🔗 Trust Box (Gallery): https://heya.world/trust_box
Introduction
What does trust look like?
Trust is not something we often visualize. It doesn't even have a universally recognized symbol. Yet it is so important for the well-being of individuals and the fabric of any community. Imagine a world without trust. What kind of society would we build? What kind of relationships could we keep? And what kind of hopes would we have to live on? In this project, I used 5 sets of disposable cameras as a tool to explore what trust might look like in Finland.
This project was created during and funded by Aalto University’s Art + Media Studio (Interactive and Participatory Art).
Note about Finland
Finland is often considered one of the most honest and reliable countries in the world. In a "lost wallet" experiment conducted by Reader’s Digest, Helsinki ranked as the most honest city, with 11 out of 12 wallets returned (see: https://www.rd.com/list/most-honest-cities-lost-wallet-test/). This aligned with my own experience as well. I once accidentally left my phone on the metro, and it was so promptly and kindly returned to me in the next 30 minutes.
But at the same time, Finland struggles with loneliness; it consistently ranks among the top in Europe for social isolation. According to a 2025 report by the Finnish Red Cross, 59% of people in Finland feel lonely at least occasionally, and one in four have been feeling lonely for over five years. My Finnish friends also confirmed this by saying that social isolation and lack of grassroot communities is quite common in Finland.
Finland, with its high level of public trust and social isolation felt to be an interesting place for me to conduct this trust study on.
The Process
Left: Process of making the trust box; Right: All the instruction booklets and logbooks
Here’s how it went: I bought 5 disposable cameras and put each in a small mail box labeled “Trust Box.” Along with a camera, I included two copies of an instruction booklet (in English and Finnish) and a logbook in each box.
I gave each Trust Box to someone I personally trust. I asked each of them to take three photos — one about the person who gave them the box, one about themselves, and one about the person they would pass it on to. Then, as the instructions suggested, I asked them to sign the logbook and hand the box in person to someone they trust.
Each camera can hold 27 exposures, meaning it would ideally pass through nine people total, connected by a chain of trust.
The 5 people whom I personally handed the box to
Of course, there were risks. At any point in the chain, a camera could be lost, forgotten, or rejected. While I trusted the person I gave the camera to — and maybe even the person they would pass it to — how could I be sure about the fourth, fifth, or ninth person in line? They would be complete strangers to me. I couldn’t imagine what they look like, so how can I say I really trust them?
But still, the participants are not truly random strangers. Each was chosen by someone. In this way, I am connected to the final participant through an intimate, intentional thread built entirely on trust. So, despite my trust issues and anxieties, I chose to follow through. After all, I had already bought the materials and built the boxes. And even if this experiment fails, I would still have learned something.
The Results
The results were both unexpected and heartwarming. Out of the five boxes I distributed, four were completed within a matter of weeks. The final participants in each chain reached out to me (using the contact info I left in the box), and I was able to retrieve the boxes in person. And I’d have to say, meeting each of them was deeply rewarding.
Each “last person” in the chain was unique: one was a bachelor’s student in Espoo; another, a human rights NGO worker in East Helsinki; third was a father in a family of eight living in Vihti (I picked up the box from his brother, due to distance); and the last one was a midwife in Tampere, just heading into her first night shift. All of them, in their own way, were so kind, genuine, and supportive. My conversations with each of them, albeit short, felt so special and moving.
Dare I even say, this project restored a bit of my faith in humanity.
Once I retrieved the 4 boxes, I got them developed, printed, and scanned at Fotoyks Kamppi. It was exciting to wait for the development to complete. Although I have to admit, I was nervous not knowing what the photos were going to look like. I guess this is the beauty of a film camera–the element of risk and waiting.
I was so delighted to see the results. It was interesting to follow the journey of each camera through the lens of others. Even the a bit dark and underexposed were charming, and random objects in the photos sparked my curiosity. What could these photos be about? Without knowing any details other than notes left in the logbooks, my mind naturally imagined a story for each photo. I liked that most photos remain a mystery to me, so I didn’t probe further.
The resulting photos that you can see here are snapshots of daily life across Finland. Individually, or without context, they might look quite random or insignificant. But taken together, they form an emergent, communal archive of trust. The scanned logbooks (which includes handwritten notes of why each person trusts the next person in the chain) add another layer of meaning to the archive.
Photo #16 from Trust Box #1
On Participatory Art
This was my first experience (at least intentionally) making participatory art, where participation becomes the medium itself. The photographers — or, the co-artists — were the 36 people who chose to trust me and briefly share parts of their life. (Who knows — maybe I’ll recover the fifth camera someday, bringing the total to 45. I’m not losing hope!)
Letting go of control was not easy. (I can be a bit of a control freak when it comes to art and I definitely have social anxiety.) Because the artwork literally left my hands, I really had to trust in the process and the decisions of others. Yet, the process taught me something valuable. In order to make a work about trust, I had to practice it.
What’s Next?
I plan to continue exploring the theme of trust. My next project is Trust Café, a temporary café set up in an abandoned shopping mall in Imatra, Finland. I will put a small table in its car park, surround the table with shelves, brew coffee and tea, and invite strangers into conversations about trust. It will involve a new chain of interactions and generate another form of visual artifact (likely in the form of using clay sculptures). Like the Trust Box project, I’m getting a kick of nervousness and excitement at the same time.
Acknowledgements
Special thanks to artist Oliver Kalleinen for his mentorship and encouragement throughout this project, and for introducing me to the wonderful (and scary) world of participatory art. And of course, big shout out to the participants for trusting me and becoming the co-artists for this project.