An Interview with Eevi Tolvanen, Amos, Riikka Lakea, and Ren Salento

We interviewed hellänä – tenderworking group: director and choreographer Eevi Tolvanen, performer Amos, producer and artistic dialogue  Riikka Lakea, and production intern Ren Salento. hellänä – tender will be performed at Mad House’s Parvisali stage from March 26–28, 2026.

Photo: Angela Mugisha

Mad House: hellänä – tender is a dance performance that explores ageing queer and trans peoples' experiences of care and shares lived histories of different generations: their knowledge of touch, closeness, and  relationships. The performance is the culmination of the multi-year Queer Generations project. The project organises art workshops and home visits for queer seniors, as well as intergenerational meeting places for queer and trans people of all ages.

It would be great to hear a little about the background of the project, its arc, and the realities attached to it. How did you arrive at  hellänä – tender?

Photo: Camila Oliveira

Eevi Tolvanen: The Queer Generations project continues the work of the Queer Dance Group community I founded in 2022. The Queer Dance Group emerged from a longing to be in a space where queer and/or trans people could explore movement in a safer environment. Peer support has been at the core of everything from the beginning. The community has been facilitated together with Jan Loukas, Pie Kär, and Sophia Wekesa, as well as many wonderful substitutes facilitators over the years.

However, we noticed that people over 50 weren't finding their way to QDG. Where are they, and why don't I know them?

Both QDG and Queer Generations also come from a somewhat selfish place. I wanted to be and work surrounded by my own community. I wanted to find chosen parents or grandparents—people with whom to share the experiences of queer life. Before the Queer Generations project, I didn’t know any queer or trans people over the age of 50. Now suddenly, I have many new friends, and with some of them, the age difference is fifty years. Like Kuisma Savisalo, now the chair of Sateenkaariseniorit ry, with whom we planned the Queer generations project and began close collaboration.

In the beginning,  all activities were intentionally closed. Art groups, home visits, and performances all took place within the community. Building trust takes time. Once the first connections began to form, it was important to give that process exactly as much space as it needed.

In the second year, we started making small outward movements. Sing-along gatherings were opened to everyone, and we toured performances in senior centres. It wasn't easy. When a community opens itself outward, it also meets opinions, attitudes and fears. We encountered entirely new kinds We had to face entirely new kinds of challenges – but also many successes. We've had incredibly moving encounters, especially in senior centres.  It has been powerful to witness a person who has been involved in then project from the beginning share his story as a trans man to audiences of a hundred seniors, and to see those audiences moved to tears and wanting to speak with the performers afterwards.  

Now, in our third year, it feels like we have left some kind of lasting trace in queer-sensitive elder care.  hellänä – tender has been intentionally opened to all kinds of audiences of all kinds. The piece is a proposal that has grown out of this three-year journey – a proposal for a different kind of reality. 

I also remember very clearly when we applied for the first year of funding from the City of Helsinki. One potential partner told us: “Ourclients aren’t the right target group for  performances. They aren’t ready to see half-naked people waving around on stage.”

Well, they didn’t end up becoming partners in the project. But at the same time, I hope that this very “wrong audience” will come to see the performance.

Because, yes, there are bodies on stage. Sometimes with very little clothing. Bodies that move through tenderness, intimacy, sexuality, life itself. And perhaps that is exactly why they can be so frightening to some people. 

If the whole world could be queered, this performance offers a small glimpse of what that might feel like. What the world could look like if queerness were the starting point? A world where people hold each other in ways that make all kinds of lives possible. 

In this project, the community has revealed itself as a life-igniting force – a tender yet fierce form of support. The people around us are the reason to return and continue from where we last left off. The reason to leave home. To build relationships. To develop crushes, fall in love, make friends. To reconcile conflicts from decades ago. settle disputes dating back decades.

And above all: a reason not to be alone.

MH: What kind of place has “herkkä - tender” been for you, and what will it become?

Amos, performer:A safeplace to process things that arise from deep within the body. It has brought insights and the courage to do things I never would have imagined daring to do before. It is a gentle environment for growth.  At the same time, it turns something private into something shared –  making things visible so that viewers may gain something from it themselves: identification, insights related to their own lives, and so on.  

I can't really say, nor do I even wish to hope for, what the future will bring, because I approach the project with an open mind and receive whatever comes.  It's better not to think or speculate too much about the future, but simply to dive in. That way, I don't remain afraid or hesitant, and I dare to surrender to the process–and that's when it gives the most. New things keep emerging all the time, and afterwards I find myself amazed, thinking: I was actually able to do something like this.

Riikka, producer and artistic collaborator: This process has been full of awe, discovery and learning for me. I have witnessed things I have never seen anywhere else before: seeing aging adults explore touch and movement is something I experience very rarely, and even more rarely by aging queer and trans people. I have been deeply touched and amazed by the performers' courage to try out new things and their sensitivity towards each other in every rehearsal. The space and atmosphere Eevi is building in the rehearsal room is gentle and encouraging, and it's quite astonishing what can be created in a safer and braver space like this. There are of course good and bad days and different opinions and needs, but the space we have created together can hold that friction, because everyone commits fully to the community. Working in this group has been very beautiful and unique.  

Our shared tender space is filled with vulnerability, care, caresses, intense gazes, laughter, tears, and sweaty dances. It has become a cozy collective, a place that energizes me for days, a time together I'll remember forever. And I think it will become the most memorable performance of the year for the audience, too.  

Ren, tuotantoharjoittelija: hellänä on ollut minulle pienessä ajassa herkkä, liikuttava ja turvallinen paikka. Paikka, josta itseni tunnistan ja paikka, jossa kipuiluni tunnistetaan, mutta myös paikka, mikä ruokkii minua rohkaistumaan ja kasvamaan itseeni. Se on tila erilaiselle kohtaamiselle, kosketukselle ja yhteydelle. hellänä on siis muuttumassa osaksi kuvaani hellyydestä, yhteydestä ja kosketuksesta <3


MH: Minkälaista hellyyttä kutsut lavalle, ja mitkä yhteisöt kutsut yhteen tämän esityksen kautta? Minkälaisen loitsun toivot voivasi langettaa maailmaan?

Eevi: From the very beginning, I wanted to invite many different nuances of tenderness onto the stage. I wanted to challenge the stereotypical notion of what tenderness should look like—especially when it comes to aging bodies. Tenderness isn’t just soft and polite. It can also be intense, messy, stubborn, erotic, and complex.

I wanted to show a spectrum of tenderness—from a chosen family to conflict, from intimacy to disagreement. Tenderness also exists when things break, when someone gets sick, when someone dies, when love becomes difficult.  Feeling tender can mean so many things, it can also be raw and aching.

I was fascinated by the tender body in all its states. A body aching with grief. A body exhausted by wild physicality. A body trembling in an embrace. A body that still desires, thirsts, and longs.

I also didn't want to be afraid of fetishes, sensuality, or sexiness. Desire doesn't fade with age.

The process has been a collective one. Each performer has entered this world of tenderness in their own way. We’ve had many deep conversations about boundaries, consent, and what tenderness even means to each of us. Some performers wanted to explore power dynamics, fetishes, and sexuality. Others, friendship, care, illness, and grief. And in some way, all these worlds coexist beautifully in the same space. The performers truly support one another. They support each other in whatever direction their own tenderness leads them.

This performance is definitely rooted in queer love. In some ways, it certainly speaks a language that a queer audience will recognize immediately—something that lives within our bodies and our history. But I also hope that a very diverse audience will discover this performance.

After all, how often do we get to see aging queer and trans bodies together in a theater space? Moving, touching, telling their stories openly. Taking up space without apologizing. Honestly—who wouldn’t want to see that?

If this performance casts a spell, I hope it’s a slightly mischievous queer spell. One that spreads joy, tenderness, and communal love everywhere. A spell that reminds us that life doesn’t end at a certain age. Aging bodies still want things: love, touch, sex, friendship, adventure, tenderness.

And also a reminder that queer and trans history did not begin with our generation. It existed long before us—and will continue to exist long after us. Many of the performers—and many of the people involved in the Rainbow Generations project—carry stories that have not yet been written down. But they live on in bodies. In gestures, memories, and survival.

These stories are meant to be felt.

And they deserve to be heard.

Learn more about theQueer Generations project.

Read more about the performance hellänä - tender.