By Melba Granlund

This adventure in weaving began a couple of years ago when the Weavers Guild of Minnesota’s  Scandinavian Weavers study group chose to focus on Swedish art weaves.   I and many others in the group had never personally studied or done this type of weaving, although some of the patterns resembled Norwegian patterns we knew.  At or about the same time, I had been “gifted” several pieces from southern Sweden woven in this fashion from the late 19^th or early 20^th century, so we had examples to study up close and personal.  However, we needed to find out more about what these Swedish “art weaves” were all about, and I looked forward to the challenge.

I was aware of the Swedish weaving school Vävstuga in western Massachusetts, operated by Becky Ashenden, as I had taken the “Beginners” class there a few years earlier.  While looking at Vävstuga’s website and pondering whether to return there for further instruction on “Swedish classics,” I remembered that while studying at Vävstuga I had purchased a book on the subject, written in Swedish by Gunvor Johansson.   I now saw that the book was available in English.  Wanting to know more about Gunvor, I continued to dig deeper on the internet and discovered that she was teaching Swedish art weaves through the Skåne Hemslöjd in southern Sweden and had done so during the month of June for at least the last couple of years.  It seemed to me that if I wanted to learn from the best, then being taught by the person who taught Becky many years earlier at Sätergläntan made the most sense.  Being the frugal person I am, the cost of instruction was the next thing to consider.  I found that traveling to Sweden for a class was almost the same as going to western Massachusetts. In fact, it was almost cheaper.  

That was it.   I needed to go to Sweden.  So, I sent an email to Hemslöjden i Skåne to inquire about classes in 2016.   As it turned out, while the class was being offered again during the same week in June, it was eventually canceled for lack of interest.  While I was disappointed, I was happy that I hadn’t already booked my flight and hotel room.  Having thought that further instruction would not be possible – at least in Sweden – I then received news about Vesterheim’s 2017 Textile Study Tour.  The itinerary showed that the tour was at or about the same time as the class in Sweden and that we would be traveling nearby while in Denmark.  So, I contacted the Hemslöjd once again. This time I dug a little deeper and inquired how a person might “guarantee” not having the weaving class canceled for lack of participants.  I was told that they would be happy to host a “private” class for us “English speakers” if we had enough students.   One thing led to another (email upon email) and, finally, there were eight of us who wanted to take the class.  Liz Hunter in our group made our hotel reservations and also tracked down flight info.  Edi Thorstensson handled train reservations.  I took care of class registrations.  The Hemslöjd was thrilled.  We were thrilled.  It was actually going to happen.  Hooray!   Our class even became a post on the Hemslöjd’s Facebook page as they prepared the looms for us. 

Landskrona turned out to be a storybook town.  17^th and 18^th century buildings and cobblestone streets everywhere – each block had a different type of stone and pattern.  Our hotel was only a couple blocks from the North Sea and only a few blocks from the Hemslöjd, which had been relocated to the former Landskrona train station which, in itself, was an architectural beauty.  

Arriving at our classroom the first morning, we were greeted by Åsa Stenoft who had been the person I communicated with in scheduling our class.  She could not have been a more gracious host and supplied us each day with freshly baked coffee cakes and treats (freshly brewed coffee was always at hand).  Her knowledge of weaving was also very helpful during class time and she helped translate for Gunvor, which turned out to be almost never. 

Gunvor Johansson

Gunvor Johansson

A little bit of background on our teacher, Gunvor Johansson, and the Skåne Hemslöjd.  The Swedish hemslöjd, or handicraft, movement was first developed in 1899 by Lilli Zickerman who sought to encourage self-supporting artists working in their homes while at the same time preserving Swedish folk art traditions.   Lilli traveled around Sweden to map and document the textiles and their makers.  

Since the mid 1980s, Gunvor has continued to study and expand the documentation of the Skånsk textiles based on the Stiftelsen Skånsk Hemslöjd (Skåne Handicrafts Foundation) archives collection in Landskrona, with textiles dating from the 17^th century forward.  This work culminated in the publication of her book, Väv Skånska Allmogevävnader, translated into English by Birgitta Esselius Peterson as Heirlooms of Skåne: Weaving Techniques.  In her studies, Gunvor researched the colors of the original yarns, drew up the patterns and developed suitable yarns currently available for replication of these beautiful pieces.  She has taught the weaving techniques rosengång, halvkrabba, dukagång, munkabelt, krabbasnår, rölakan, viggrölakan, and trensaflossa to students in classes at Sätergläntan and continues to teach through the Hemslöjd organization in Skåne. With Kristina Lindkvist, Gunvor co-owns the company Kyrkotextil i Syd, creating liturgical textiles for use in churches.  In 2005, in connection with Hemslöjden Malmöhus’s 100th anniversary, she received the Swedish Hemslöjdsföreningarnas Riksförbund’s Royal Silver Medal for her work on the documentation of Skåne’s art weaves, her work for the handicraft movement since the mid-1980s, as well as for her outstanding contributions to ecclesiastical textile art.   Hemslöjdsföreningarnas Riksförbund is the national umbrella organization.  Therefore, its Silver Medal is a very high distinction.

From the Hemslöjden Skåne website:    

We use natural materials, reuse and keep the knowledge of how to manufacture long-lasting items. The slöjd helps us solve problems with our own power.  It gives a sense of context, belonging and roots; inter alia by building on the long tradition of doing things by hand. In addition, it fills people’s everyday lives with well-being, beauty and creativity.

Beauties actually change the world. And we do it with only our hands.

Hemslöjden – Our hands shape the future

For a sustainable world created by our hands

 What a great philosophy!

By Annemor Sundbø, June 18, 2017

Editor’s note: This article originally appeared in Lokalkulturen, a local culture blog produced by the newspaper Fædrelandsvennen, under the title “Brennesler – til tøy og mot utøy.”

Cultural Memories (Kulturminner) is a reflection on textile-related matters. Just now it concerns close contact with a plant that has deep roots both in the earth and in tradition.

‘Weeding out’ my thoughts about everyday things for the blog, Local Culture (Lokalkulturen.fvn.no), led me to the most common weed we have in Vest-Agder. Stinging nettle, a plant that truly makes itself felt by hours-long stinging and blistering when one brushes past them, as for example next to the steps to my shop in Ose, Setesdal.

Stinging nettles are nonetheless a diverse and important plant that has had great importance along Norway’s coast. The plant grows wild on hills and rocky areas where it is otherwise difficult to cultivate vegetables.

It is used both as a foodstuff and as medicine, as fertilizer and as a source of yellow dye.  In addition, it has been used as a fiber plant.

Nettles have also been very important as a forage plant for pigs, horses, cows and chickens. Pigs ate it fresh or boiled with flour and potatoes.  Horses especially liked nettle seeds blended with oats. Cows were given nettles dried or boiled into a broth.  This gave greater quantities of milk and increased fat content in sour cream and butter. Chickens were given seeds or a decoction, which made them lay eggs more frequently, with yolks that became golden yellow.

Nettles were also important in the daily diet. The plants have twice the nutritional value as carrots, and must have been an important source of vitamins.

Nettles have had great importance as medicine, especially against respiratory diseases and asthma.  On the island of Hidra in Vest-Agder, people whipped themselves with nettles as a treatment to cure arthritis, and a decoction was used as a treatment for scabies, according to Christiern Pedersen’s Medicine Book (Lægebog) from 1533:

“Take nettles, mash with a little salt and rub the scabby limbs”

In many places, a nettle decoction was also used for dandruff and itching, and among other things was recommended for hair loss in Randesund. Nettle leaves were laid on children’s impetigo sores, and for cattle they were blended with stale urine as a healing ointment.

In 1972 I lived in the Faroe Islands.  The purpose of this stay was to study the wool-working methods that allowed the Faroese to survive in this barren landscape with its harsh climate.

At one place on the islands there were nettles. They were outside the ruins of the Magnus Cathedral in Kirkjubøur.  It is likely that these plants were grown for food and medicine, but possibly also as fiber plants? I became quite curious about this after being inspired by H. C. Andersen’s fairytale, The Wild Swans.

The princess in the story had eleven brothers that had been bewitched into swans. She could free them from this spell if by sunrise she could spin and knit a shirt for each of them out of fresh nettles.  If she failed, she would be burned as a witch.  By dawn, all the shirts were completed except one, which was missing a sleeve.  As the princess was led to the fire, the swan brothers came flying, and she managed to throw the shirts over them.  The swans were transformed back into princes except for the youngest brother, who got the shirt with the missing sleeve. He was left with one swan’s wing.

Even though I am no princess, I nonetheless wanted to try out this fairly tale. The collection of the nettles was real enough, anyway, I could feel it on my skin!

Earlier I had grown and processed flax, and now I wanted to process nettles the same way.  The plant stems consist of outer bark, baste fibers, pectin and a woody substance. When the plants are placed in a water bath for five or six days, bacteria will loosen the pectin through a fermentation process, and the bark will rot. This is called retting. I laid the plants in a bath tub.  The first day it smelled like fresh hay, the next day like a barn, the third day like a manure heap, the fourth day like rotten eggs, and the fifth day – the foulest bad breath imaginable!

The nettles were thrown out far away.  When I finally found the courage to come near them again, the plants were dry.  I could easily break the woody substance, and the fibers came forth as small bands. As I combed the fibers, they became shiny and silky smooth, and I could begin to spin them into thread using a drop spindle. But compared with flax, which has long fibers, nettle fibers break at each branch on the plant stem, giving less fiber length.

My conclusion after this adventure – it’s a good thing that the burning of witches is forbidden, because considering the time and work that this process required, my amount of thread would not have saved more than one feather if the swans had been my brothers!

See also: A Rag Pile – My Lot in Life

Annemor Sundbø (b. 1949) of Kristiansand, is a Norwegian national grant holder, and the recipient of the Kings Medal of Honor, the Norwegian Handcraft Association’s Medal of Honor in 2004 (for preservation and continuance of cultural values, both domestically and internationally), Aust-Agder County’s Cultural Prize in 1999, Bygland Community’s Cultural Prize in 2004, Sørlandet’s Literature Prize in 2006, Vest-Agder County’s Cultural Prize in 2015 and Kristiansand Community’s Cultural Prize in 2017. She ran Torridal Tweed and Wool-Duvet Factory from 1983 to 2006, when the machines were moved to the textile museum at Sjølingstad Woolen Factory, and started Ose Woolens in Setesdal in 1993.

Books published: Kvardagsstrikk 1994, Lusekofta fra Setesdal 1998, Usynlege trådar i strikkekunsten 2005, Norske votter og vanter 2010, Strikking i billedkunsten 2010 (translated into English as: Everyday Knitting, Setesdal Sweaters, Invisible Threads in Knitting, Knitting in Art, Norwegian Mittens and Gloves); and Spelsau og Samspill 2015 (not translated). 

Articles:

“Forsøk med spinning av brennesler” m/ illustrasjon, Norsk Husflid nr. 1, 1973.
“Brennesler til tøy og utøy” Kysten nr. 1 1989.
“Brennesle” Våre Nyttevkster, 2001.

Thank you to Katherine Larson for her translation. 

The annual notice: Help keep the newsletter free to readers around the world and show your support. Any amount, now and each year, is appreciated. Thank you!