Photo Story: Into the Factory of Family Lore - Vilhelmiina Penttilä, photojournalist

Sorsakoski, a village at the southern border of North Savo, has been home for a steel factory for over a hundred years. The village, born as a settlement around a water sawmill at the end of the 18th century, was a prime example of early Finnish industrialization. At its largest, the Hackman (today Fiskars) factory employed around 700 people. The Hackman trademark is still familiar to many Finns for its classic cutlery models such as Savonia and Carelia.

I have heard much about the factory in my lifetime as I happen to be a descendant of several generations of people who worked there. "Only scraps of the cookware factory remain", said my grandmother as I interviewed her for a high school "granny project" a few years ago. Her statement contained a sprinkling of drama, but it is true that the annual production of several million utensils, as well as many other departments of the once significant factory have disappeared. And with that, almost all services and the young generation have also left from the village.

I had never actually visited the familiar-looking factory before last summer. And indeed, inside it one can still hear countless different sounds of life, some of which even required ear protectors. Sorsakoski has not become a historical attraction like its cousin Fiskars in southern Finland, but the factory now successfully clings to the new, trendy values of domesticity and sustainability. Its number of employees, now around 100, has grown for the first time since the 70s.

Some of these images appeared in an article I wrote about the factory for Savon Sanomat in July 2022.

In the depths of the factory. A production operator peers from the far end of the hall towards the clanking machines. The piles at the foreground are aluminium bases for pots and pans.

The factory building. These days, the Sorsakoski factory only has active production in its newest building, this gray building that towers over its centenarian redbrick neighbours. The sign on its wall has changed several times in the modern-era flurry of business fusions.

Through the line. Factory manager Terjo Hänninen (closest to the camera) and his employees make their way through the factory hall.

Patterns form under pressure. A pot starts to resemble itself as it receives stove-friendly patterns to its base. Later, a logo and smaller symbols will be carved on it, too.

Towards reuse. Surplus aluminium is recycled, and the self-branded sustainable factory uses recycled aluminium in all the dishes it produces. Stainless steel is almost completely reused as well.

Queuing up. The inner surfaces of the pots are steel-brushed as one of their several phases of production. Depending on the design, the correct treatments and substances are chosen.

The bygone world. The factory, in its time, produced tools for its own use as well as bespoke-made to several different industries and even the army. Today, the tool factory, built in the early 1900s, stands completely empty after having housed a pub and a gym in the last decade.

A question of quality. Standing out with quality is critical for today's relatively expensive domestic production. Production operator Kari Itkonen checks and cleans the pan bases one by one.

A veteran. Technical expert Kari Haatainen has worked at the factory since the 80s: his career originally began at the tool factory. He does not live in the village, like an increasing number of his colleagues - the community has changed a lot with the decades.

Stacked and piled. The dishes, having arrived from the line, are waiting for handles and lids, final checking and packaging.

Into the box. Production operator Heidi Sikanen casts a last glance on a porridge pot. The handles to the pots and pans were once made here as well - today they come from foreign subcontractors.

Time at a halt. In the centuries-old village of Sorsakoski, factories, pensioners, still-flourishing gardens and a few completely abandoned houses live side by side. This backyard is still cared for, but when walking in the village, one often tends to only be met with a silence or a couple of cars on their way to neighbouring towns.