Eveliina Sarapää

What if the Sámi were not side characters in the story of the North, but instead put at its centre? What if it was made visible that they are a people whose roots, rights, and cultural continuity run deeper than the borders of nation states? What might Sámi building traditions have become if the Sámi had been allowed to develop them free from the pressure to assimilate into a majority culture? Could the relationship to Sámi culture be reimagined into something different, then? Could there be an understanding of Sápmi as a profound cultural landscape where Sámi history and rights have always been present?

The debate on Sámi architecture and building in Sámi lands has recently intensified in Norway and Sweden. Architecture and construction are part of visible culture and contribute to defining who we are and what we want to be. As a Sámi architect, I have the opportunity to make an impact on the future of the Sámi built environment and to influence the principles behind construction for Sámi people and Sámi lands.

“By learning to identify traces of colonialism and dismantle them through design, one can set an international example of what truly sustainable architecture can mean.”

The Sámi worldview is based on reciprocity: take only what is truly needed, and ask permission from nature before taking anything. Humans are only one part of Sápmi’s web of life, where trees, rivers, and animals also have the right to exist. Every fell, river, and forest is someone’s home. At the heart of Sámi architecture must be principles drawn from this worldview. By learning to identify traces of colonialism and dismantle them through design, one can set an international example of what truly sustainable architecture can mean. Architecture that acknowledges Indigenous rights and builds in reciprocity with both nature and culture, safeguarding the continuity of a living culture and the interconnected whole.

If we think of architecture as a concept, it can in many ways open up as alienating, elitist and colonialist for the Sámi. On the Finnish side of Sápmi, the word in itself may evoke images of typical post-war houses that Finnishised and “modernised” Sámi life, housing and construction. The harnessing of the Sámi sacred fells as holiday towns with high-rise hotels, or the exploitation of Sámi cultural otherness in the tourist field. Significant buildings for the Sámi are financed by the state culture, designed by non-Sámi architects and built according to the state culture's own principles and tradition. In architectural discourses and representations, Sáminess is often exoticised in simple symbols or forms. Despite potential, understandable, feelings of scepticism towards architecture as a concept, the Sámi themselves should be the ones to define the principles according to which the Sámi homeland area is built.

“ Humans do not control the land or nature, but live in dependence and in relation to it.”

The foundation of every architectural project should be the understanding that people do not own the land, but are part of it. Humans do not control the land or nature, but live in dependence and in relation to it. When a person feels belonging to a community and a place that supports their life and identity, a sense of reciprocity emerges—a desire to give back. The built environment can either strengthen or sever this connection. When new building materials and supplies are not readily available, existing buildings, materials and goods become valuable resources that, with ingenuity and tinkering, are transformed into new uses.

In my own work as an architect, I have worked with renovation, traditional and timber construction since the beginning of my career. Over the last five years I have become familiar with Sámi architecture through teaching, lecturing, designing, creating installations and video works, as well as participating in exchanges with other Indigenous practitioners from around the world. Indigenous people all wrestle with similar issues and the Maori of Aotearoa are, for instance, much further along in the decolonisation of architecture than the Sámi. The Maori have, among other things, developed their own design principles, which have been adopted by the City of Auckland and others.

Joar Nango’s work Girjegumpi – The Sámi Architecture Library has sparked discussion about Sámi architecture and, at the same time, brought together Sámi architects from Sweden, Norway, and Finland. The Sámi architects aim to establish their own Sámi Architects’ Association (SAA), which could ideally initiate much-needed collaboration between the architectural associations of Sweden, Norway, and Finland.

In my article “An Imagination of Architecture for Future Generations in the North” in the Finnish magazine Kaltio, I presented a suggestion for a manifesto on building in Sápmi:

1. The scale of construction must adapt to the landscape, the size of the village, and the number of inhabitants.

2. Building projects should be evaluated for their environmental impact.

3. Construction should rely primarily on local materials such as wood, logs, turf, and natural stone.

4. Building processes should include community involvement and local participation.

5. Sámi languages should be used in public buildings and signage.

6. Construction must not target Sámi sacred sites or traditional use areas.

7. Building must promote the self-determination of Sámi communities and their right to decide regarding their own culture, environment, and future.

8. Building must adapt to rapidly changing weather, snow, and ice conditions and help communities navigate uncertainty.

9. Every solution is assessed for how it affects the lives of future generations and how it safeguards cultural continuity.

10. Eallit čábbát: beauty, practicality, and good life go hand in hand. Buildings should be long-lasting, adaptable, and repairable, forming part of a whole where practicality, durability, and aesthetics intertwine.

11. The goal of construction is to realise a future in which Sámi culture thrives. Every building is a promise: we will leave this world in better condition for the next generations.

The necessity of these principles should not be solely driven by the Sámi community, but needs the support of the architectural community, museums and the construction field as a whole, to turn the tide away from a romanticised and colonialist approach to Sámi culture. My goal, however, is to bring Sámi architects together to collectively consider how building in Sápmi should be approached from a Sámi perspective, and for the manifesto to emerge as a collaborative effort among Sámi architects. In the future, this manifesto could serve as a foundation for guiding planning and construction practices in the municipalities of Sápmi.

“When discourse turns to new buzzwords such as regenerative architecture or permaculture, the North recognises that the core principles of these concepts are those Indigenous peoples have practiced for thousands of years.”

The building sector is facing a situation in which attitudes towards both materials and nature need to change. In the North, there is a strong awareness that what the Western world presents as innovations are often, in fact, ancient Sámi wisdom: living in harmony with nature, respecting natural cycles, and sustaining community. When discourse turns to new buzzwords such as regenerative architecture or permaculture, the North recognises that the core principles of these concepts are those Indigenous peoples have practiced for thousands of years. This way of life is not theory, but living heritage and a way of being. At best, the answers to the future challenges of construction could be found close at hand.

The above is a combined, edited and abbreviated version of two separate texts written by Eveliina Sarapää in 2024 and 2025, published in conjunction with the start of the project Oadjut in late 2025.