Edvard Munch’s Christmas Tree Baskets – A Christmas Story

By Geir Thomas Risåsen

[Editor’s note: This article was originally printed in the Norsk Folkemuseum’s Museumsbulletinen, No. 86, 3&4, 2017, and is reprinted in translation with the permission of the author.]

In the collection of the Norsk Folkemuseum are four woven Christmas tree baskets. These unique baskets were given to the museum with the following information: “These flags and baskets were made by Sofie, Edvard and Andreas (Munch). Some were made in 1877 when Sofie was sick, she died in 1878, and some were made a few years later, about 60 years ago. These have been carefully cared for by an aunt.”

These four Christmas tree baskets were woven by the 15-year-old Edvard Munch and his siblings in 1877 and the years thereafter. The baskets are quite carefully made, with appliqués and one with pleated edges. These are among the oldest dated Christmas tree baskets preserved in Scandinavia. Photo: Haakon Harris, Norsk Folkemuseum.

The four Christmas tree baskets are interesting for a number of reasons. The most obvious is that they were woven by the 15 year old Edvard Munch (1863-1944) and two of his siblings. Equally important is the fact that they are probably the oldest woven baskets of this kind preserved in Norway. They further differ from other known baskets in that in addition to being woven, they have cutout shapes affixed with glue, and one has pleats. They are also part of an interesting history of Christmas tree baskets in general. Before we look more closely at the Munch siblings’ four baskets, we will consider that history.

Scandinavian tradition with Danish origins

The Danes have a strong connection with woven Christmas tree baskets, or “Christmas hearts” as they are known. The oldest preserved basket we know of was woven by the poet Hans Christian Andersen (1805–1875) in the 1850s and given as a gift to Mathilde Ørsted. This is a woven basket without a handle and was therefore not hung on a Christmas tree. The basket is woven in yellow and green glossy paper and today is found in H. C. Andersen’s House in Odense. In Denmark it became popular to weave Christmas tree baskets in the national colors of red and white after the Danish-German war of 1864 [Second Schleswig War], when Denmark lost the Duchies of Schleswig and Holstein.

In 1871, the journal *Nordisk Husflids Tidende* presented drawings of “cones in heart shape” intended as “decorations for the Christmas tree.” Nils Christian Rom, the founder of the Danish handcraft movement, was behind the publication.

The oldest known instructions for weaving Christmas tree baskets was published in 1871, in the journal Nordisk Husflids Tidene [Nordic Handcraft Times, a Danish journal], where they are referred to as “cones in heart shape” and “Christmas tree decorations.” Niels Christian Rom (1839-1919), the founder of the Danish handcraft movement, was behind the publication. Rom was trained as a teacher and therefore familiar with the educational trends of the times, a subject we shall return to. A Swedish publication of 1883, intended for homes and schools and including text and illustrations, gave instructions for a “woven heart basket.” The instructions show a basket with a square woven pattern and pleated ends. Much indicates that woven Christmas tree baskets appeared in Sweden in the course of the 1880s, and that instructions with pleated ends characterized the early Swedish heart-shaped versions.

The oldest surviving Christmas tree basket in the collection of the National Museum in Copenhagen is from 1873, while the oldest in the Nordiska Museet’s collection in Stockholm is from the early 1900s. In Norway the Munch siblings’ baskets can be dated to 1877 and shortly after. The spread of woven Christmas tree baskets is connected to the spread of the Christmas tree. This was originally a German custom, mentioned as early as the 16th century and much later introduced into Denmark by Danish-German families. The first Danish tree was lit in Holsteinsborg [Estate] in 1808. In Copenhagen it was introduced in 1811 by the Lehman family in Ny Kongensgate [New King’s Gate]. In Norway the first known tree to be decorated was in Christiania (Oslo), by Miss Winschenk in 1822. In the 1840–50s Christmas trees were increasingly mentioned among middle-class and civil servant families, but they gained wider acceptance with the broader population only in the latter half of the 1800s, and were not considered common before 1930.

Figure from the first Swedish publication of Christmas tree baskets, from 1883, with text and illustrations suitable for use in home and school, and including instructions on how to weave a Christmas tree basket. Note the pleated edges that are recognizable from one of the Munch siblings’ baskets.

The earliest decorations were edible, but in the 18th century such edible items were supplemented with gifts hung on the tree. From the middle of the 19th century it gradually became common to have decorations in the modern sense, that is intentionally made as Christmas ornaments to be used year after year. As the Christmas tree custom spread, so too did an industry to supply decorations. This was particularly known in Germany, where the Christmas tree originated, but in addition to imported ornaments it became common to create one’s own decorations, especially in paper. In Heinrik Ibsen’s 1879 play A Doll’s House, Helmer says to Nora: “Do you remember last Christmas? For a full three weeks beforehand you shut yourself up every evening until long after midnight, making ornaments for the Christmas Tree.” [English quote from Project Gutenberg.]

Such paper decorations could include elaborate paper flowers such as those made by Nora, or a Jacob’s Ladder, or variations of paper stars and colorfully linked chains, and last but not least woven Christmas tree baskets. In this way children and adults came together for a common task in preparation for Christmas.

The Christmas tree basket’s symbolism lies in the heart shape – a symbol for love. In addition the woven baskets helped to continue the tradition of edible decorations, since they were well suited for holding raisins, almonds, nuts, caramels, marzipan and chocolates. In this way the custom of harvesting or plundering the tree at the end of the Christmas Season, on the thirteenth or twentieth day, could live on. This is described in one of Denmark’s most treasured Christmas songs, Hojt fra træets grønne top [High from the tree’s green top]. Peter Faber (1810–1877) wrote the text for the family Christmas in 1847 under the original title Juletræet, Sang for Börn [The Christmas Tree, Song for Children]. Here is the first verse:

Høit fra Træets grønne Top
Straaler Juleglandsen;
Spillemand, spil lystig op,
Nu begynder Dandsen.
Læg nu smukt din Haand i min,
Ikke rør ved den Rosin,
Først maa Træet vises,
Siden skal det spises.

From high up on the Christmas tree
The light of Christmas shines
Fiddler, play a jolly song
We’re about to start the dance
Kindly extend your hand to me,
Don’t touch that raisin!
First we will look upon the tree
Then we will eat from the tree

[English lyrics: https://lyricstranslate.com/en/peter-faber-emil-horneman-lyrics.html]

The song describes children’s joy and anticipation of the Christmas gifts that hang neatly on the tree, where “Peter loves the branch so dearly, upon which the drum dangles.” Typical decorations like Christmas tree baskets are not mentioned as they had not yet become common. One of the earliest Danish descriptions of Christmas basket weaving comes from [the island of] Lolland in the beginning of the 1880s. Lauritz Jørgensen (b. 1876), son of the Søllestredgård estate, said: “After dinner on the first Sunday of Advent, the Christmas paper was brought forth. It was called “Christmas cutting paper,” and the first time I remember this was in my grandfather’s living room at the large square mahogany table that had rounded corners. Father measured and drew to the corners very exactly… The hearts were easily woven by small fingers, but were quite difficult to finish.”¹From his childhood in Kvinnherrad in Hordaland around 1890, Olav Omvig (b. 1883) related: “While Mother cooked and prepared the table, we children decorated the Christmas tree with all the baskets and stars and chains made of glossy paper that we had worked on for weeks, or that had been stored from the year before.”² Kristian Tordhol (b. 1889) notes the same from his childhood in Lesja, Gudbrandsdal, around 1900: “The last Sunday before Christmas was when we made Christmas tree decorations. The tree that year is the one I remember best. My two younger brothers were with me, but they had to content themselves with watching. I learned to cut and weave paper baskets and make various other things of paper, an education that gave me much happiness.”³

A Christmas tree is decorated with baskets in colored glossy paper in 1950s Oslo. Photo: Leif Ørnelund. Oslo Museum.

Concentration and finger dexterity

Most of us have woven Christmas tree baskets in kindergarten and in school. This has been considered an educational exercise from the early 1900s. At that time it was regarded as an activity suitable for school children since it provided training in concentration and finger dexterity. Weaving with glossy paper was part of the groundbreaking early childhood education envisioned by German educator Friedrich Wilhelm August Fröbel (1782–1852), where the intention was to strengthen the child’s creative abilities, their patience, fine motor skills and self-discipline. The weaving of Christmas tree baskets was well suited to this purpose. Fröbel believed that from an early age children should be developed methodically, that at every stage they should receive knowledge appropriate to their age and that childhood should not only be a preparation for adult life, but be an important part of life in and of itself. The child’s abilities should be developed spiritually and humanly through play. The various disciplines he advocated included paper weaving, where cuts are made in a sheet of glossy paper, and strips cut from another sheet are woven into the first. Then the completed woven sheet could be formed into useful and decorative objects such as baskets, boxes and the like, and from there it was not far to the woven Christmas tree basket. As mentioned, the author of the earliest known instructions for weaving these baskets was educated as a teacher. Similarly, the first Swedish publication about Christmas tree baskets from 1883 was meant for use in homes and schools.

The Munch siblings’ Christmas tree baskets

And so we return to the siblings’ Christmas tree baskets. As is well known, Edvard Munch’s childhood was marred by the sickness and death of those close to him. The Munch family moved from Løten to Christiania in 1864. His father, Christian Munch (a military doctor), and his mother, Laura Cathrine née Bjølstad, had five children: Johanne Sophie (1862), Edvard (1863), Peter Andreas (1865), Laura Cathrine (1867) and Inger Marie (1868). His mother was often sick and died of tuberculosis in December 1868, leaving behind five small children. The five-year-old Edvard later remembered his dying mother in the living room at their home in Pilestredet 30. “All five of us stood around her. Father walked up and down across the floor and then sat beside her on the sofa. She smiled and tears ran down her cheeks.” After his mother’s death, her younger sister Karen Bjølstad moved in and was a mother to the children. It was she who preserved the four Christmas tree baskets made by Sofie, Edvard and Andreas. In 1878 the family was struck by another death when the eldest, Sofie, died of tuberculosis. For their aunt, Karen Bjølstad, these baskets may have become a treasured reminder of happier days when all the children were making Christmas decorations together. For us they are also a testament to Christmas celebrations, and perhaps they are our earliest example of siblings who made Christmas tree decorations together.

The Munch Christmas tree baskets range from 6.2 x 6.2 to 11.5 x 18.5 cm in size. While three have handles and are woven in red and white glossy paper, the fourth is without a handle – but with a string in its place – and woven of burgundy and white glossy paper. The strips the baskets are woven from are cut straight and the woven strips in each number 12, 9, 8, and 7 respectively. While the three baskets in red and white glossy paper have appliquéd pieces glued to them, the fourth basket instead has pleated edges like the Swedish Christmas tree baskets mentioned above. We don’t know when the Munch children began to weave baskets, possibly in 1877 or earlier, but according to their aunt’s recollections they continued to weave baskets in the following years as well. We don’t know whether Christmas tree baskets were a common phenomenon in some Norwegian settings at that time, or whether some had picked it up in 1871 from the journal Nordisk Husflids Tidende, which also had Norwegian readers. But we can assume that the tradition of woven Christmas tree baskets was already established in Norway when these four baskets were woven, from 1877 and onward. Today there are not as many who weave Christmas tree baskets from glossy paper, but for those of us who do, it is a particularly pleasant and welcome “handwork” in the time before Christmas. It is a pleasure to gather together, children and adults, or perhaps only adults. A better way to relax your pre-Christmas shoulders can hardly be imagined!

Geir Thomas Risåsen (b. 1961) is a Norwegian art historian and non-fiction writer. He has worked as a conservator at the Norsk Folkemuseum since 2023 (where he is also Norway’s only “Christmas Curator”). Risåsen has worked with cultural heritage protection for several decades, and has published a number of books. His latest book, God Jul [Merry Christmas] is about Norwegian Christmas traditions, both old and new.

Translation: Katherine Larson, Affiliate Assistant Professor, Department of Scandinavian Studies, University of Washington

Notes

1 Museet Falsters Minder: Sådan lærte min Mor mig at flette. Nykøbing 2000, s. 5.
2 Omvik, Olav: I manns Minne – Dagleg liv ved hundreårsskiftet. Band 1, s. 306. Oslo 1967.
3 Tordhol, Kristian: I Manns minne – Dagleg liv ved hundreårsskiftet. Band 1, s. 29. Oslo 1967.

References

Ibsen, Henrik: Et dukkehjem, published 1879.
Museet Falsters Minder: Sådan lærte min Mor mig at flette. Nykøbing 2000. Omvik, Olav: I manns Minne, band 1. Oslo 1967.
Tordhol, Kristian: I Manns minne – Dagleg liv ved hundreårsskiftet. Band. Oslo 1967.

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Tales in Thread – The Tapestry Series “Åsmund Frægdagjeva” by Ragna Breivik

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By Robbie LaFleur

Ragna Breivik (1891-1965) transformed the weaving cartoons of Gerhard Munthe into astonishing artworks. Munthe’s dark depictions of bloody folktales are powerful, but it is the subtle shading and strong contrasts in Ragna Breivik’s weaving that builds the impact of the images. Ten monumental tapestries woven by Ragna Breivik, which make up the “Àsmund Fragdagjeva” series, are on display at Bryggens Museum, the city museum of Bergen.

You should go to see Tales in Thread – The tapestry series “Åsmund Frægdagjeva” by Ragna Breivik. Block a good amount of time, because the descriptions of Breivik’s life and of the tales told in the tapestries are well-written and absorbing. The presentation is stunning. Visitors have enough space to see each large tapestry clearly, close up and at a distance.

Below is one of the full tapestries, The First Hall. The sign reads, “Inside the mountain it is cold and dark. Countless halls stretch before him. Åsmund enters the first one. The hall is empty and quiet, but there is no doubt there has been a party here. The tablecloths are drenched in blood, and black serpents slither across them. Without a sound, he moves on.” Snakes and blood! (And what is under the table?)

Gerhard Munthe, Designer. Ragna Breivik, Weaver. “The First Hall,” 1949. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

As I examined each tapestry, I took photos of details I loved, both for the images and Breivik’s brilliant weaving skills. I marvel at the subtle changes in gray and beige. Details like these:

Near the end of the exhibit a wall essay tackles the question of whether Breivik should be considered an artist.

Art or craft? Tradition or innovation? Artist or artisan? The ten tapestries that make up this exhibition reflect an artist and an art that defy easy categorisation.

Throughout her life, Ragna Breivik worked to combine modern art with ancient craftsmanship. Though celebrated for her work, she faced resistance from the established art world. By the time she completed her life’s work, “Àsmund Fragdagjeva”, time had moved on from the predominantly national romantic tapestries. Interest in her artistry faded, leaving only the image of a craftswoman who merely copied the designs of others.

Yet, it was “Asmund Fragdagjeva” that secured Ragna Breivik’s place in Norwegian and international textile art. Through this and her other work shines an innovative, modern, original artist, teacher and craftswoman. She lived and worked in the juxtaposition of tradition and innovation – both when working from her own designs and when following designs made by others.

I’m not sure whether her designation matters. Her genius is taking the lines drawn by an wonderful artist — in this case, the bones of the image by Gerhard Munthe — and bringing life to the final artwork through her use of color and her mastery of tapestry technique. Another exhibit label notes, “They called her “Munthe’s little weaver” – a craftswoman who wove tapestries from others’ designs, especially Gerhard Munthe’s. An independent artistic vision, they claimed, was out of the question. But Ragna Breivik possesses originality, skill, and a voice of her own. Her art and outlook on life resonate in Munthe’s imagery and folk ballads.”

This is the cartoon for “The First Hall,” shown above. Image from the Hordamuseet, as found on digitaltmuseum.no. Full record: https://digitaltmuseum.no/0210214843148/tegning

The Bergen City Museum has a deep historical collection, and the exhibit designers clearly have the ability to include buttons to push, or things to light up — all the bells and whistles that are used to attract modern audiences. I appreciated the Breivik exhibit design with only the slightest bit of high tech. A painting of Ragna Breivik at her tapestry loom, animated with AI, is placed in a huge space as you walk down stairs to the exhibit. It’s mesmerizing to see her hands pluck the warp threads, to go back in time. But beyond that, it is the tapestries, and the stories — both of Breivik’s life and the Àsmund Fragdagjeva heroic tale — that engage the viewer.

Video: Robbie LaFleur

The paragraphs below from the exhibit are a beautiful summation of her life and work.

On a rainy September day in 1891, a new life enters the world on the Rod farm in Fana. The little girl, named Ragna Mathilde after her grandmother, is the second of what will become a family of ten siblings. She grows up between mountains and fjords, surrounded by sheep, cows, pigs, and hens. Her father’s job as a maritime pilot often takes him away from home, while her mother tends to the land, house, and home.

The days are too short, yet her mother still finds time for the loom. Countless tapestries and shawls take shape beneath her hands. It is meticulous work, and it must be done properly. Ragna watches and learns. At just eight years old, she can shear sheep, card wool, spin, and weave. Most importantly, she learns the secrets of dyeing yarn with plants. “My home was my academy, and my mother, my professor”, she would later say. The legacy of her childhood home, the craftsmanship, work ethic, and the joy of weaving – leaves an imprint that will never fade.

Art and cultural heritage meet in Ragna Breivik’s work – innovation and tradition are entwined. Like many artists of her time, she is drawn to national identity, the search for “authentic Norwegian qualities”, and a new national art. In particular, she seeks out the richly adorned and vividly coloured textiles of the Middle Ages. Here, sagas and stories from a distant past are brought back to life.

Just as important as the finished piece is the preservation and passing on of old knowledge. Ragna is firmly rooted in Norway’s old rural traditions, yet she dares to venture down new paths. With a profound understanding of wool, spinning, dyeing, and weaving, she explores colours, yarns, textures, and techniques. Plant-dyed wool and warp thread of blended hues create a shimmering, undulating effect on the fabric. In the meeting of old and new, traditional craftsmanship takes on a fresh expression – modern art, rooted in history.

For more information, a detailed article about the artist and her lifelong devotion to tapestry, “Ragna Breivik and her Works,” by Magnus Hardeland, is included in this issue. It is translated by Lisa Torvik from Frå Fjon til Fusa, Årbok 1966 for Nord-og-Midhordaland Sogelag [From Fjon to Fusa, Yearbook 1966 for North and Mid-Hordaland History League], p. 111-130.

I you are not already planning a Bergen trip to see this exhibit, here is more praise from another Minnesotan, Holly Hildebrandt, an enthusiastic weaver who is new to tapestry.

I was struck by the fact that she dyed her own yarns to achieve such specific shades for each piece to so beautifully depict the originals.To be honest, I loved how gory it was. When I think of weaving – the act of weaving personally, studying textiles and techniques – it’s such a wholesome practice, rooted in tradition, and connected to ancestry and something ancient. It’s cozy, comforting, and calming. I didn’t know what to expect from Ragna Breivik’s exhibit, as I wasn’t familiar with her prior, but what I found was anything but cozy in the best way! I loved that she used her weaving abilities to convey such a gruesome and heroic story. The increasingly present blood spatters in every panel, the disturbing trolls and witches, it was fantastic. And so different from how I’ve ever thought of weaving!

Finally, for tapestry fans traveling to Bergen, I have two more pieces to add to your itinerary. Frida Hansen’s Juni transparent tapestry is at KODE, the art museum in the center of Bergen (described in this post), and the Science Building at the University of Bergen houses a three-story high tapestry by Elsa Marie Jakobsen (described in this article: The Red Thread: A Monumental Tapestry by Else Marie Jakobsen).

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Norma Smayda: Sixty Years a Weaver

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*Fjord Hesten.* Traditional Norwegian tapestry, wool on linen warp. 1974.

By Norma Smayda

After graduating from Bucknell University with a degree in Biochemistry, I worked at DuPont’s biology lab for one year. I moved to Norway as a new bride in 1956 to begin an exciting four years as a Fulbright wife, working part time at the Institute of Marine Biology and raising our first child. I grew to love that country and its people, many of whom became dear friends. The landscape, the culture – theater, concerts, art exhibitions and craft galleries – all felt right, comfortable and challenging. Perhaps this is because I am of Norwegian heritage, although growing up I experienced few Norwegian traditions. Our landlord was an art collector, introduced me to art galleries, and I bought my first art piece, a lithograph by Knut Froysaa.

I credit the start of my career in weaving to seeing a label on a lovely blanket that said “hand woven by.” I don’t remember if I ever knew the weaver’s name. I knew nothing about handweaving, had never met a handweaver. But something resonated. Six years later we were back in Oslo for six months, and I found a summer weaving school, Monica Skolen. It was located in a charming old fashioned cabin in Frogner Park, behind the royal palace. I signed up for a two week session, and was so enamored that I signed up for a second session. Tom and Susan, now ages 8 and 6, played in the park while I wove, four hours a day, five days a week. I wove beautiful products – table runners and mats, a tote bag, a poncho – in different traditional Norwegian techniques, in beautiful yarns and colors. I still have most of those textiles. We wove on 4 shaft Monica table looms, with string heddles and a swinging beater. The looms were threaded to different techniques, with treadling directions taped to the looms. I was becoming a weaver! By the end of the second session I ordered a loom, loom stand and warping mill. My wonderful teacher, Kari Kaurin, dressed my loom with 15 meters of blue wool, threaded to rosepath. Back in Rhode Island I wove and wove, and soon realized I had a problem. I had learned nothing about designing a warp, dressing the loom, or even where to buy materials.

[Below, two pieces woven at Monica Skolen in 1965: “Vams,” a wool ski top in rosepath, and a lined wool tote bag woven in krokbragd on three shafts.]

The Weaving Goddess was watching over me. About the time I finished weaving yards and yards of rosepath, I met a woman who was giving a talk on finger weaving. She agreed to help me design and wind on a project, saying, “I will only come back again to help if this is woven off in 3 weeks.” I took good notes and wove it off in less than 3 weeks! Gwen MacIntyre became a mentor and good friend.

In 1973 we found ourselves back in Norway for a sabbatical. The children were now busy becoming Norwegian teenagers and learning to love the country as I did. I had the time to take a year-long weaving course at the Baerum Husflidsforening (home craft school) 6 hours a day, 5 days a week, plus other textile related classes, including tapestry. Ulla Hansson became my mentor. She was a knowledgeable weaver, an excellent teacher, and she recognized and encouraged my passion for all things weaving. Along with the simpler traditional techniques, I also had the opportunity to delve into Meraker (a non-reversible pick up double weave), kjepskill, and skillbragd on a loom especially adapted for this technique. I was also able to take two week concentrated courses in spinning and plant dying at the Statens Laereskole i Forming [National College of Applied Art].

[Below: A wall hanging sampler in Meraker, along with two detail shots.]

[Below are two weavings woven in 1973 at Baerum Husflidsforening: a linen unicorn tapestry woven in Beiderwand pick up technique, and a hostess skirt and blouse woven in Monk’s belt. The wool, lined skirt and blouse were designed and sewn at a BHF tailoring class.]

A fun fact: The Baerum Husflidsforening was located on the second floor of the old police station, an historic wooden building. One morning a man appeared at the door and inquired what we were doing to make so much noise. Some weavers were making rugs. He asked if would please stop weaving for a while. On the first floor Sean Connery was being filmed for a segment of the movie Airplane, and our weaving caused the old building to vibrate and disturb their filming. We stopped weaving, but unfortunately never got to see Sean Connery.

[Below are two skillbragd pieces, woven in 1974 at Baerum Husflidsforening: a wall hanging in wool and linen, and a runner woven with a loom attachment to allow for pattern shafts.]

I completed that year in Norway with two weeks in Toijala, Finland, to learn Finnish traditional weaving techniques, and wove more finnweave, with one layer in twill, the other in plain weave, a raanu (a colorful plain weave rug used as coverings for Saami tents), and a lovely blanket that was machine brushed with teasels. I had seen beautiful tapestries in Norway and Finland, and especially admired historic tapestries, work of Hannah Ryggen and Frida Hansen, and square weave wall hangings.

We returned to Rhode Island in September 1974, and I was in ‘weaving mode,’ weaving on my Monica table loom while I waited for my new loom at arrive, a 54” 8 shaft countermarche Glimakra loom (now converted to a 10 shaft, 12 treadle loom). This was and still is my favorite loom.

My Norwegian teachers, especially Ulla Hansson, had been very generous with their skills, knowledge and time, and I wanted to give back in some way. A few local weavers asked me to teach what I had learned, and fortuitously a wonderful space became available. Neighbors were adding a craft center to their home, and I was given a small section.

I started the Saunderstown Weaving School. Over the years I acquired more of the space, until today we occupy all of it. More looms found space here. A few I bought, more were donated, some of historical significance. Among others are two looms from William Henry Harrison Rose (1839-1913), a prominent Rhode Island weaver known as “Weaver Rose.” The niece of Osma Gallinger Todd gave me her aunt’s loom, built by Milo Gallinger. And a little two legged Swedish loom with string heddles and a swinging beater – yes, two legged! – with built-in clamps that clamp to a table, and can be collapsed to fit under the bed. From our original 6 looms we now have about 45 floor looms, 3 table looms and 3 tapestry looms.

What began as one class with 6 weavers, quickly expanded to 3 weekly classes with a student body of 25 – 30 weavers. Much of the weaving here is traditional, weaving Scandinavian techniques as well as Weaver Rose and Bertha Gray Hayes overshot patterns. I had wanted to teach weaving at the college level, so went back to school, getting my MFA in Visual Design from University of Massachusetts-Dartmouth. However, after teaching one semester at Emmanuel College, I realized that I was spending too much time on committees, and really wanted to devote my time to teaching. The weaving school was designed on what I knew from my Norwegian classes. I had no other model. Beginner, intermediate and advanced weavers in each class, weaving on a variety of looms, and creating a variety of projects, gave the weavers a broad experience. We celebrated our 50^th anniversary with a celebratory exhibition at Hera, a local women’s art gallery.

I’ve returned to Norway a few more times. From 1978 – 1982 I planned weaving tours and took eight weavers annually for five years, visiting the places I loved. We traveled from Bergen to Trondheim to Oslo, in mountain and fjord country, took walking tapestry tours in each city, and wove in a small craft school. In 1987 I returned to visit my son, who was working in Bergen that year, and to see my first granddaughter. We continued from Bergen to Oslo, and on to Sweden to attend Väv, an triennial weaving conference.

Along my weaving journey I became active in and teaching at local, regional and national organizations, becoming President of the Handweavers Guild of America in 1988. I attended the first Norwegian Breakfast Club meeting organized by Lila Nelson I think at Convergence held in San Jose. I attended many more Breakfast Club meetings. The Norwegian Breakfast Club eventually became the Norwegian Textile Newsletter. I visited Vesterheim in Decorah twice to give talks and workshops.

[Below: the Norwegian Breakfast Club organized a study group to investigate Flesberg technique, a three-shaft rosepath.]

Because I had access to original Bertha Gray Hayes handwritten materials, I coauthored Weaving Designs by Bertha Gray Hayes in 2009. At Convergence in 2010 I took a class on the fan reed, became enamored with ondulé textiles, and researched and wrote Ondulé Textiles: Weaving Contours with a Fan Reed in 2017. Soon a small but devoted study group was established in Complex Weavers. This led to an in depth series of articles in the Complex Weavers Journal, February 2025.

The next Saunderstown Weaving School exhibition, to celebrate our 55th anniversary, is already scheduled for the fall of 2029!

Bonus photos! Row 1. Crackle overshot detail; Roses of the Sogn. Double weave pick-up with monksbelt border.
Row 2: Overshot table mat; Rosepath and monksbelt blended draft wall hanging. From Sigrid Palmgren’s Vavbok I. Linen. 8 shafts.
Row 3: Stars of the North. (detail) 8 shaft summer and winter. Design from Ekenmark damask patterns. Woven for Convergence 1994, Minneapolis workshop. Linen; Stars of the North.
Row 4: Rosepath and monksbelt blended draft wall hanging (detail). From Sigrid Palmgren’s Vavbok I. Linen. 8 shaft; Rosepath and monksbelt blended draft sampler. From Sigrid Palmgren’s Vavbok I. Cotton. 1980.
Row 5: Monk’s belt pink table runner. Cotton, cottolin.

November 2025

[Editor’s note: See also a wonderful interview on the Handweavers Guild of America “Textiles and Tea” series web page: Norma Smayda.]

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November 17, 2025

Ancient Techniques and the Newest Technology: The Digital Weaving Conference In Norway

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By Laurie Carlson Steger

In March this year, the Weavers’ Guild of Boston hosted Robbie LaFleur for a lecture and workshop about Frida Hansen. I was busy weaving my open warp style tapestry when I saw an email from Vibeke Vestby, founder of Digital Weaving Norway. She invited me to submit a woven artwork for an exhibit in Norway to be held in August. YES! I was immediately planning the trip. The exhibition would be held in conjunction with a conference celebrating thirty years of the Thread Contoller (TC1 or TC2) loom. The Sundvolden Hotel in Krokklevia, on the edge of a fjord north of Oslo, was a perfect location for an August event.

The conference, Digital Weaving: Innovation Through Pixels, featured talks from thirty textile professionals who varied from University professors, designers, desearchers, skilled TC2 trainers and independent artists. Twelve speakers represented the USA. The loom is the new tool on the block in Maker Spaces, university textile departments, prototyping engineering labs, and is part of weaving residency programs in locations such as the Icelandic Textile Center.

A catalogue with the conference title was also published. It tells the story of Vibeke Vestby’s background, and how the TC looms were developed at Tronrud Engineering Moss.

Vibeke Vestby and the team of TC2 Trainers. www.digitalweaving.no. and www.tronrudmoss.no .

Vibeke’s dream to build a modern tool for hand weavers began in the 1980s as computer technology and creative programs for drafting weaving patterns were just beginning. After years of research and development, the first loom was sold in 1995. In 1996 I attended one of the first workshops to introduce the TC loom, held at Montclair State University, New Jersey, and I put the loom on my wish list.

Vibeke Vestby has persevered with a vision for weavers that has changed the way textiles can be developed. In 2006, when The Woven Pixel: Designing for Jacquard and Dobby Looms Using Photoshop, written by Alice Schlein and Bhakti Ziek, was published, it became the weaving manual that instructed how Photoshop could be used to design woven structures. Programs such as Photoshop, Fiberworks, WeavePoint and Arahweave, developed for the needs of weavers, now enable rapid design manipulation. A new software was introduced at this year’s conference, AdaCAD. It was developed by Laura Devendorf at the Unstable Design Lab at the University of Colorado, Boulder, and is an exciting open source program. Now, in 2025, with 300 looms installed in locations around the world, weavers gathered to share stories about the TC loom and how it has transformed their weaving practice.

The conference presented opportunities for the TC loom weavers to sit together and swap experiences of working with the loom, to buid new connections within the growing community of digital weavers, and to make new friends.

Weaving traditions depend upon a span of time for them to be thoroughly adapted into general practice. As textile professionals, we study ancient techniques and honor the methods of our ancestors. As the mode of learning and showing respect, showcasing difficult technical skills that have been personally mastered is a way to prolong the heritage of the craft.

New weavers who begin a weaving journey have digital skills in image manipulation, a library of pixelated weave structures and intuitive computer skills that allow them to jump into weaving at a high level. These innovators take materials at hand, without necessarily worrying whether the sample or fragment will endure the test of time. Weavers delve into the field to combine engineering with multimedia. They explore texture and how to project emotions. They use materials that sense information or function as an aid to human experience with temperature detection or moisture containment or sound responsive properties. Artists push the boundaries of “tapestry” with personal, social or political messages woven into the cloth. This wall hanging by Katia Huhmarkangas takes medical and other tech world imagery of the heart and combines them into a personal statement.

After many years, I became a TC2 loom owner in 2016. Taking workshops with Cathryn Amidei, the USA representative, (cathrynamidei.com) and with online tutorials plus many hours of trial and error, my weaving has found a personal style. The piece I sent was woven from one of my drawings inspired by jazz musician, Lyle Mays.

Laurie Steger, Lyle, just playin’ . 2024

The honored designers that have shaped this generation of textile makers — such as Dorothy Liebes, Lucienne Day, Jack Lenor Larson, Annie Albers, Sheila Hicks, or the legendary Frida Hanson, to name a few — will be joined by Vibeke Vestby as a breakthrough inventor, educator and developer of modern methods of textile practice.

With the fjord just steps away from the Sundvolden Hotel, my husband and I took an evening walk. We could hear sounds of hammering nearby. Like the Pied Piper calling to men everywhere, we tracked down the source to discover The Hardraade Project, a community of people building a replica of an authentic Viking ship. They were using all the old techniques: wooden pegs, blacksmithed fixtures and handwoven linen sails. They were rushing to complete it for a planned launch on August 30.

Viking ship construction with old techniques. Photo: Hardraade.

Visits the to Fram Museum, the Kon Tiki Museum (image: Kon Tiki) the Nobel Center and the Oslo National Museum of Art filled our two days left before heading home.

After learning about the newest weaving technology, viewing historical Norwegian tapestries at the National Museum completed my full circle of travel inspiration.

Tapestry, 1903. Gerhard Munthe, Designer. Nordenfjeldske kunstindustrimuseums atelier for kunstvævning, Producer. Photo: Frode Larsen

Laurie Carlson Steger is a weaver and Fiber artist from South Dartmouth, Massachusetts. She works on 4 and 8 harness looms as well as the TC2 loom. She studied textiles at the University of Massachusetts, Dartmouth, is a member of Complex Weavers and Handweavers Guild of America and current Dean of the Weavers’ Guild of Boston.

Lauriecarlsonsteger.com, @lightweaver11_laurie_steger

October 2025

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Husfliden: A Herstory

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Jane Addams, “Husfliden: A Herstory.” Originally published in Vesterheim Magazine, Vol. 21, No. 2, 2023.

Handcrafts and textile production were essential survival skills in pre-industrial Norway. Addams describes how the availability of machine-woven cloth gave many rural women the time to produce goods to sell. During the National Romantic era, beautiful textiles became symbols of national identity.

Click on the photo or title above for a pdf copy of the article.

Addams’ survey of women and handcraft history even describes the movement of Norwegian traditional craft to the U.S.

“The Norwegians who moved here in the Great Migration hoped to rise above the social status they left behind, so in the interest of assimilation they quickly adopted the “American” aesthetic. It is the later generations who, realizing what they left behind, picked up the pieces to form a uniquely Norwegian-American identity.”

Jane Addams is a first generation Norwegian American with a long family history in the woolen mills of Norway. She has designed Selbu mittens for yarn stores and fashion brands and enjoys studying and teaching this rich textile heritage. She recently led the 2025 Vesterheim Textile Study Tour to Norway focused on bunad history and handcraft. Jane is currently a graduate student of Biology at the University of Wisconsin-La Crosse studying the effects of climate change on traditional dye plants and lichens, and will teach a lichen dye class at Vesterheim in Summer 2026.

Below: Jane Addams’ lichen-dyed yarn; mittens of her own Selbu-style design; and a tintype of the author in her Fana bunad. Photos courtesy of Jane Addams.

October 2025

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The American Debut of “This is Norway”

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By Josh Brown, Ph.D.

For ten days in early September 2025, Eau Claire, Wisconsin hosted Anne Tiedemand-Johannessen Møller and her billedvevene (woven tapestries). This year we are celebrating the 200^th anniversary of Norwegian immigration to the United States. The sloop Restauration arrived on October 9, 1825, in New York City with 52 people aboard and has since become a symbol of Norwegian American identity. In this anniversary year, Møller came to the Upper Midwest with many of her woven tapestries so that we could delight in their depictions of Norwegian life and history. A highlight of the exhibition was Møller’s tapestry of the Restauration itself being led across the ocean by a bald eagle. I was especially intrigued by her use of threads outside of the woven ground to show interest and dimensionality.

Detail of Restauration showing addition of non-woven threads. All photos are courtesy of the author.

Møller grew up on a farm in Gausdal, northwest of Lillehammer, Norway. As a child, she enjoyed exploring the outdoors — hiking in the woods and mountains and skiing in the winter. She began work in healthcare but later took further education in art history and eventually weaving courses in Lillehammer. She enjoys that her tapestry weaving can tell a story.

In 2004, Møller’s This is Norway — a set of twelve tapestries — travelled around the country. She intended them to feature the months in her region of Norway. The tapestries are full of animal life with wolves, puffins, and polar bears. My favorite one was December which presented to the viewer as if peering through from a warm inside through a window to the cold outside. The folks outside were just as warmed through it seems, enjoying some fun winter activities.

Two friezes depicting historical events in Norwegian history were also included in the exhibition. The first depicted scenes from Norwegian history and was woven by Møller to celebrate the 100^th anniversary of the dissolution of union with Sweden.

Another frieze, woven to celebrate the 200^th anniversary of the Norwegian Constitution in 2014, shows decades of recent history in Norway.

[Left: Detail of the Frieze, Norwegians heading to church. Right: Detail of the frieze, Svinesud Bridge crossing Iddefjord joining Sweden and Norway, 2005]

I was honored to offer the presentation “From Norway to the American Midwest: 200 Years of Immigrant Folk Art” as a complementary program to the exhibition. I used the presentation to position Møller’s traditional craft within a larger story of Norwegian folk art and craft in the diaspora — with a special focus on the lasting contribution of Norwegian folk art and craft in the American Upper Midwest and the value in maintaining it and its practitioners.

Møller’s visit and exhibition was sponsored by Løven Lodge (Sons of Norway), Midwest Institute of Scandinavian Culture, Waldemar Ager Association and Museum, McIntyre Library (University of Wisconsin–Eau Claire), and L.E. Phillips Memorial Public Library. She continues to work on tapestries and is currently weaving one of St. Olaf, the 11^th century King of Norway.

October 2025

Josh Brown is Skwierczynski University Fellow in Languages and professor of German and linguistics at the University of Wisconsin–Eau Claire. He prefers spending time at the loom, learning about the techniques that are deeply rooted in a culture, especially his own Pennsylvania Dutch culture and Scandinavian cultures. Josh has published and presented widely on heritage language communities in the U.S., including the Scandinavian Americans. He dreams of a life as an artisanal weaver in New England. His academic website is: https://www.joshuarbrown.com/ and his weaving website is: https://www.thebullfroginn.com/

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Trådar/Threads

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By Amy Sands

For years, I’ve been making art that aims to elevate the work of women. When I was a young adult, I received a beautiful doily as a shower gift from my great-aunt, Betty. I was enamored with the detail, appreciating each stitch. I understood the time and care that went into this work and remembered seeing doilies selling for pennies on the dollar at craft fairs. It was this experience that moved me to honor these labors of love. After exhausting my personal collection of doilies and other lace works to inspire my paper abstractions (such as my Revolution and Constellation series), I decided to dig deeper and research my Scandinavian roots.

My roots are predominantly Norwegian, with a small amount of Swedish and German heritage. Locally, my research led to a solo exhibition at the American Swedish Institute in Minneapolis (2021) that honored Swedish bobbin lace, including the Bobbin Lace Fence Project (an outdoor installation along the fence on Chicago Avenue during the pandemic).

This focus on Scandinavian handwork in my art propelled my first trip to Norway in 2019, where I studied the collections of the Tekstilindustrimuseet (Salhus, Norway) and the Osterøy Museum (Gjerstad, Norway). I arrived that year in Oslo, Norway, on May 17^th, and was in awe of the celebrations, culture and incredible detail of the bunad folk dress worn by the locals. While at these museums, I learned about the warp-weighted loom and other textiles in the collection of the Osterøy Museum, and the knitted works at the Tekstilindustrimuseet. I noted the differences between the hand-made vs. machine-made at each museum. The Tekstilindustrimuseet features great machines, both electric and hand-propelled, but it was the historical photographs in their collection that moved me the most. The photographs told stories of the people who worked at the textile factories of Norway, and the various roles of men and women within. I wondered what it must have felt like to transition from a mostly hand-made industry to this commercial facility, and how fast that transition must have been during the industrial revolution.

Between these two musuems, I enjoyed the rolling hills and sheep-filled pastures on the drive, which was about 34 kilometers. As an outdoor enthusiast, I was in awe of the waterfalls that seemed to be flowing out of every farmstead. To get to the museum, we needed to pass through single-lane dirt roads that seemed like we had stepped back in time. With a focus on preserving cultural traditions, the Osterøy Museum is not only a museum, but a living practice involving these handwork traditions. The Osterøy Museum is a compelling and active connection to heritage that I had not experienced before. I knew I must stay and learn.

I continued to research this work for the next few years before eventually producing two main bodies of work: my Portal series and Bunad series, which were first exhibited at the Osterøy Museum in 2023. It is now a traveling exhibit, and was shown at the Hjemkomst Center (Moorhead), Norway House (Minneapolis), and will be featured as an upcoming solo exhibition at the Vesterheim Museum in 2027.

While I was at the Osterøy Museum, I focused my research on the bringeklut portion of the Bunad folk dress. I carefully documented several bringeklut pieces and other textiles with my camera, keying into the details of each stitch. The Bunad series developed out of this documentation.

When I returned home, I translated these images into polymer photogravure prints. This process involves the transfer of a photographic image onto a polymer plate that can be used for editioning. Once the plate is developed, it is inked up and printed by hand with an etching press.

For these works, I intentionally printed the images in black and white to draw attention to the labor of the handwork, leveling out the competition of color and bringing to light the human use of these textiles. I wanted the stains, rips and loose threads to become an active component of the work. To me, these imperfections accentuate the importance of our existence, and the role textiles have played in being human. I added subtle hints of the original colors back into the images through my own embroidery and beadwork. This process allows me to play a role in directing the viewer to the important aspects of the textiles that have captivated my attention.

In the Portal series, I integrated historical photographs from the Tekstilindustrimuseet and patterns from the textile collection of the Osterøy Museum, creating an intersection of handwork and the textile industry. Transforming the photographs into fish-eye lens perspectives and printing them as archival pigment prints on paper transports the viewer back in time, honoring those who paved the way for the industry. In addition, I’ve added lace-pattern borders sourced from the Osterøy’s collection that are drawn by hand and embellished with embroidery and beads, referencing this handwork as an expression of love and a means of survival. They were symbols of life at home, yet through the Industrial Revolution and invention of machinery, these skills quickly transformed into a prominent way of earning a living. The work I created for the Bunad and Portal series honors and recognizes these labors of love. Additional works from this series can be found on my website, www.amysands.com, and my Instagram page, @printmaker.

A view of my exhibition *Trådar* at Norway House in 2025.

Photo credit to Ukjend (Tekstilindustrimuseet) on the following images: Portal VI, Portal VII, Portal VIII, Portal IX, Portal X. All other photographs are public domain/free use as part of Tekstilindustromuseet collection. Lace patterns in Portal series are credited to Osterøy Museum and Tekstilindustrimuseet collection. All textiles in the Bunad series are from the Osterøy Museum collection.

Amy Sands is a Minneapolis-based visual artist and educator who creates work that honors handwork traditions through the reimagining of textiles into visual works. These works include prints, photography and public art. She is a practicing professional artist, Professor of Studio Arts and Department Chair of Fine Arts at Metro State University, a wife to a wonderful husband, mother of two adult children and two cats. She lives for the outdoors and elevating the work of women, current and past. www.amysands.com IG: @printmaker

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Solving the Mystery of the Backwards Baldishol

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By Robbie LaFleur

I find it surprising that so many weavers have felt compelled to reproduce Norway’s most famous weaving, the Baldishol Tapestry. Many Baldishol replicas are in the U.S.: Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum has three full-sized replicas, and one is in storage at the White House, a gift from Norwegian-American women to President and Mrs. Coolidge. (Read more about those in “The Baldishol Tapestry–The White House Replica and Others.”)

Baldishol Tapestry. Between 1150-1190. Nasjonalmuseet. (full record)

Weaving a Baldishol tapestry is not a small commitment for a weaver; a full-sized replica is large at 46” x 80”. It is tricky in terms of technique; in particular, several outlined areas on the birds’ breasts and the back of the horse challenge even the most skilled tapestry weavers. Perhaps that’s why many weavers choose to make their own copies – to challenge their weaving skills? (1)

I learned of another reproduction of the Baldishol in the U.S. in 2021. It was located in Florida and presumably woven by Abbie Wetzel (1920-2002).

Abbie Wetzel was born in Massachusetts. According to her brief obituary, she was a veteran of the U.S. Navy, serving in World War II. She taught instrument flying to pilots. She was married to Robert Wetzel, an artist, Navy veteran, and producer of animated films. Bob and Abbie had no children. They lived in the Washington DC area for many years, later retiring in Winter Haven, Florida.

After Abbie died, Bob remarried. He died of cancer in 2004, and Abbie’s textile supplies and the Baldishol reproduction were left with his second wife, Mary Martin Wetzel. When Bob Wetzel died, much of the background story of the Baldishol replica was lost. After Abbie Wetzel’s death in 2002, the Baldishol replica remained in her husband’s family for two decades, carefully stored in Winter Haven, then Gainesville, Florida, and then Asheville, South Carolina.

Emily Mann, the granddaughter of Bob Wetzel’s second wife Mary, contacted me about the tapestry, believed to be woven by Abbie Wetzel. It seemed a bit baffling. What prompted Wetzel to take on such a large weaving and this image? Had she seen the original? Did she have Norwegian background? Was she an experienced tapestry weaver?

The original Baldishol Tapestry is 46.5” tall by 80”. The Abbie Wetzel reproduction is approximately 50” by 70”, so it is a full-size replica. But this Baldishol tapestry has a very odd characteristic — the image was woven backwards!

Snapshot taken by Emily Mann, with the horseman riding in the wrong direction

That didn’t seem right, and I suggested to Emily that perhaps she had sent me a photo of the back. But it was the front; she sent me photos clearly showing that unwoven ends were on the other side. That was also a bit odd. In the Norwegian billedvev [tapestry] tradition, the hanging ends on the backs of tapestries are woven in so that the reverse side is as beautiful as the front.

Emily Mann inherited the tapestry, but after it was in storage for so many years, her family members had few details. They did know that Abbie Wetzel was not able to finish it, and Bob Wetzel paid someone to finish the weaving. When that was or who did it, Emily didn’t know.

I searched for more information on Abbie Wetzel. She was an active spinner and weaver and at one point owned five spinning wheels, according to a 1990 article in the Pensacola News Journal. She had been spinning for thirty years. She gave workshops on straw weaving and demonstrated spinning at her local library. Abbie compiled extensive natural dye notebooks and samples, which Emily inherited and passed on to an artist friend.

Then I spent a whole day on the couch, peeling back layers of the internet….

It wasn’t Abbie Wetzel who began the Baldishol, It was a Norwegian-American weaver, Maria Mundal. And the person who finished weaving the tapestry was Mary Mahon from Orlando.

Mary Mahon pictured in an article in the *Orlando Sentinel,* August 22, 1999, “Interweaving Artistry, History.”

In an article in the Orlando Sentinel, Mary Mahon mentioned that it was Maria Mundal who started the tapestry. Mary Mahon and Abbie Wetzel were active members of the Weavers of Orlando; both are mentioned in issues of the guild newsletter, Fibergramme, which is archived online. It is interesting that Mary Mahon is working on a floor loom, not an upright tapestry loom. I thought she might just be weaving something else, for the purposes of a photo, but it looks like she is weaving tapestry. She is not weaving in the Norwegian tradition with butterflies; I see a tapestry bobbin and another small shuttle.

The article states that Mary Mahon had been working on it for three years, so probably beginning about 1996. The article noted that the original weaver, Maria Mundal, died more than 20 years previously (previous to 1999) and said it was an accident.

What was the accident? I discovered the sad answer through the Norwegian National Library online, in an article from Nordisk Tidende, June 27, 1974. “Art Weaver Maria Mundal is Dead.” (My translation)

The renowned art weaver Maria Mundal died at Ullevaal Hospital in Oslo on June 11. She had been living in Alexandria, Virginia, and had earlier this summer traveled on vacation to Norway after a 40 year absence from her homeland. She turned 80 in October 1973.

After a visit to the Munch Museum she was hit by a car and broke her collarbone. She was taken to the hospital. She developed complications and her life could not be saved. She died on June 11 and was buried in Vegårdshei in Aust-Agder, where her mother is also buried.

Maria Mundal had a strong wish to weave the Baldishol Tapestry, one of Norway’s most famous tapestries, through her whole life. It dates from the 12th century and was found in the Baldishol Church in Hedmark. and hangs in the Kunstindustri Museum [now part of the Nasjonalmuseet] in Oslo. She obtained the materials she needed and had begun the large work, but it was not completed. Now another person will be sought to finish it. Maria Mundal herself said that the Baldishol would be the greatest work of her life.

So how did Maria Mundal’s Baldishol come to be with Abbie Wetzel? I guessed that Abbie was a tapestry student in one of Maria Mundal’s tapestry classes, or was a friend through a weavers group near Alexandria, Virginia, where Maria Mundal lived before her death. Wetzel lived in the DC area before retiring later to Florida.

I discussed the backwards Baldishol with Laurann Gilbertson, Curator at Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum. She began digging into a cache of letters and records about Maria Mundal in their archives. There were letters from Abbie Wetzel, who had donated other weavings by Maria Mundal to the museum. The story of Maria Mundal’s Baldishol replica became much clearer, and I should have contacted Laurann earlier! In 2000 Abbie Wetzel was in communication with Vesterheim about the completed Baldishol replica. This was shortly before she died in 2002. The communication stopped. The Baldishol was stored away in Florida. And two decades later Emily Mann inherited it and began to seek information about it.

In a letter from the Vesterheim archive, Abbie Wetzel related more information about Mundal’s Baldishol replica. “Husfliden resisted selling Maria the handspun vegetal dyed yarn so it was Maria’s persistence that won out. She had been working on the tapestry for about a year before her untimely death and had completed about ¾ of it. The cartoon was lost in the handling of her estate and I obtained a copy from a friend in Norway.”

An article in Nordiske Tidende from October 4, 1973, profiled Mundal as a prominent Norwegian-American weaver, and ends with the following paragraph. “Maria has just received yarn from Norway and is ready to begin weaving a copy of the Baldishol Tapestry, a project she has looked forward to and feels will be one of her most important works.” If Maria Mundal began weaving the replica around October, 1973, when she was 79, and then wove ¾ of the tapestry before her accident in Oslo in March, 1974, that was a fast weaving pace!

But why was the image backwards?

A question remained: If Maria Mundal began the tapestry, and she learned to weave as a child, in an unbroken tradition from her mother, grandmother, and as one article said, weavers back to Viking times, why would she leave tails on the back of a tapestry? That is against Norwegian tapestry history and technique. And if weaving the Baldishol Tapestry was a lifelong goal of Mundal, why would she weave it backwards? I have a theory.

I believe Maria Mundal was weaving the tapestry from the front, left the tails of each color on the front, and planned to weave in all the ends (like a good Norwegian). But the person who finished weaving the tapestry (Mary Mahon, and perhaps also Abbie Wetzel) didn’t know that was supposed to be done. Most American tapestry weavers don’t follow that tradition. I looked more closely at one of the detail photos, showing one end of the tapestry, and it looks like some ends have been woven in, just not cut off. If all the ends can be woven in – voila! – the horseman will not be riding backwards.

Emily Mann is donating the Baldishol replica to Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum, which has a number of other pieces woven by Maria Mundal. Maria Mundal would be pleased, no doubt, although her initial hope was that it would be displayed in the Norwegian Embassy in Washington, DC, or at the United Nations. And Abbie Wetzel, who had been a good friend to Maria Mundal, would be happy to know that the completed Baldishol will be part of the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum collection. (2)

Abbie Wetzel once wrote to Laurann Gilbertson, “My experience as a handspinner and handweaver has contributed to my respect for these crafts associated with these creative endeavors. When it is the part of the lives of many generations, as in a museum, it evokes reverence and a joy of the spirit, doesn’t it?”

(Robbie bio)

(1) Weavers in Norway continue to challenge themselves by weaving Baldishol replicas. See “From 1180 to 2024 – Norwegian Weavers are still Committed to the Baldishol Tapestry.” robbielafleur.com, April 22, 2024.

(2) Members of the Minnesota Weavers Guild of Minnesota Scandinavian Weavers Study Group will weave in the loose threads on Mundal’s tapestry, to fulfill her strong wish to weave a Baldishol replica.

October 2025

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What’s in that Potte-blå?

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By Robbie LaFleur

Frida Hansen (1855-1931) and Hannah Ryggen (1894-1970), two of the most important Norwegian tapestry weavers of the 20th century, wove monumental tapestries with very different styles and aesthetics. They both used liberal amounts of the vibrant blue loved by countless Norwegian weavers over time, potte-blå, or “pot blue.”

Most dyes require a mordant in the dyeing process, an ingredient that creates a bond between the color and the fiber. In the case of indigo, urine works well. Although both artists warrant much longer descriptions of their lives and works, this article will focus on interesting anecdotes about their use of blue dye and urine—from camels and from men.

Frida Hansen was most active from the late 1890s through the 1920s and her tapestries reflected the Art Nouveau style of her era. Her figures, almost exclusively of women, were elegant. She was one of the first artist weavers, responsible for both the design and weaving of her tapestries (though she had help at the loom). Her images were filled with nature, evoking flowers from the gardens of her youth. In addition to her artistic talent, Hansen was also known for reinvigorating historical Norwegian tapestry weaving at the end of the 19th century, for her research into traditional plant dyes, and for her entrepreneurship as the head of a weaving studio of around 20 weavers.

Many of Frida Hansen’s tapestries include liberal amounts and numerous shades of indigo blue. In Sørover [Southward, 1903], ten maidens ride swans on blue fan-shaped waves. The indigo shades set off the sinuous maidens in complementary colors. Without the variety of blue, the massive tapestry (10’ x 11’) would be much less striking.

Frida Hansen. Sørover [Southward], 1903. Photo courtesy of Peter Pap.

Frida Hansen also developed and patented a unique form of wool transparent tapestry, with areas of open warp contrasting with fully-woven sections of pattern. Blue was a favorite color for her warp; more than half of her designs featured indigo-dyed warp. Blue was also prominent in the rugs and upholstery fabrics woven in her studio.

Indigo-dyed warp used in Frida Hansen’s transparent tapestry Nellik og Hane [Cloves and Rooster], 1901. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

Frida Hansen dyed large quantities of wool for her own tapestries and those woven in her workshop, and her students did too. Around 1916 Ragna Bachke, a student of Frida Hansen’s, ran into problems obtaining her mordant for indigo. Bachke was weaving three rugs designed by Hansen and she needed several liters of potte-blå. Frida Hansen specified that only natural dyes be used, and Bachke was importing camel urine from Morocco for her indigo mordant. (Wouldn’t it be interesting to see the bottles and labels?) However, submarine warfare interrupted shipping, and Bachke visited Frida Hansen to express her concerns. Hansen consoled her immediately, saying, “Remember, dear lady, there are strong men at Jæderen too.” (1)

Røde roser [Red Roses], 1902. Photo courtesy of the Stavanger Kunstmuseum. Photo: Dag Myrestrand. The rugs woven by Ragna Bachke likely included red and blue roses similar to this tapestry.

It is interesting that camel urine was used, that WWI interrupted its use, and that in its absence, Frida Hansen suggested that men’s urine, in particular, was still available. Hmmm…only men?

Hannah Ryggen’s career started around the time of Frida Hansen’s death in 1931. She was born in Sweden and married Hans Ryggen, a Norwegian artist. They lived on a small farm without electricity near Trondheim, Norway, yet her visually powerful tapestries commented on international issues. For example, she skewered Hitler and Nazis while Norway was occupied and continued her social critiques for decades. Her images were not always political. We are Living on a Star, woven to celebrate her marriage, is filled with symbols of love, but the tapestry became political. It was hanging in a government building and damaged during the terrorist attack of Hans Breivik on July 11, 2011. When the tapestry was repaired, it was done imperfectly, intentionally, to show the tear in the fabric of society, and the coming together in its wake.

Hannah Ryggen. Vi lever på en stjerne [We are Living on a Star], 1958. In the collection of the Norwegian Government. Photo: Christine Novotny.

Her use of bold color and design brings to mind the decorative aspects of folk art, yet the images wouldn’t be called pretty. Ryggen said that she did not consider her works as textiles, but representations of people’s lives and struggles. She mostly used wool spun by her from her own sheep and dyed it with natural materials. Ryggen also used men’s urine in dyeing her vibrant blue. Many overviews of her work note that Ryggen kept a bucket for pee and asked male guests to her farm to contribute.

Hannah Ryggen. *Karsten i vevhimmel* [Karsten in Weaving Heaven] 1953. The beautiful blue in this tapestry of the painter Ludvig Karsten extends to tufts of pile. In the collection of the Nationalmuseet, Stockholm. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

A contemporary artist, Veslemøy Lilleengen, whose own grandfather had contributed to Hannah Ryggen’s famous jar of pee, made it a personal quest to dispute the common belief that men’s urine makes the best blue.

She wrote, “The content of urine affects the color. What you have eaten and what you have drunk, health and age are examples of what gives different shades of blue. After working with the color method for a few years, I have been confronted time and again with a certain myth: only men can contribute urine to make pot blue. It comes from different quarters, both experts on color, experts at Hannah Ryggen and museums. It may seem that people believe men have magical urine.” (2)

To dispel this mistaken belief, Lilleengen collected urine from other women artists and used it to make a blue shade unique to each person, a sort of genetic fingerprint in a dyepot. She dyed a t-shirt in the unique dye for each artist and stamped the artist’s name on the front. The 55 shirts were assembled as an art work, Norsk Bauta [Norwegian Monument], and displayed at the 2021 Høstutstillingen, a prestigious annual contemporary art exhibition in Oslo. The indigo t-shirt project is a part of Lilleengen’s larger focus on the underrepresentation of women in art and museum collections. (3)

Veslemøy Lilleengen. *Norsk Bauta*, 2021. Photo courtesy of Veslemøy Lilleengen.

Both Frida Hansen and Hannah Ryggen would have enjoyed Veslemøy Lilleengen’s research to break the myth of men’s urine as best. But however those artists obtained their potte-blått, the resulting tapestries with a myriad of blue shades are a cause for celebration and admiration.

1. Letter from Christian Mohr to Anniken Thue, Oslo, October 27, 1991, Anniken Thue’s Frida Hansen archive, Stavanger Art Museum.
2. Lilleengen, Veslemøy. “Norsk Bauta.” Website: https://www.veslemoylilleengen.com/work/norsk-bauta.
3. LaFleur, Robbie. “To the Point, with Textiles.” Vesterheim, Vol. 19, No. 2 2021.

More reading on Frida Hansen:

LaFleur, Robbie. “Frida Hansen’s Sørover.” Norwegian Textile Letter, February 2022.

LaFleur, Robbie. “Frida Hansen: A Brief Biography.” Norwegian Textile Letter, February 2022.

Simonæs, Anne Sommerin. “Frida Hansen: A Leading Star in European Textile Art.” Nasjonalmuseet website, Oslo. https://www.nasjonalmuseet.no/en/stories/explore-the-collection/frida-hansen/

Ueland, Hanne Beate, editor. Frida Hansen, Art Nouveau in Full Bloom. Stavanger Art Museum, 2015.

More reading on Hannah Ryggen:

“Hannah Ryggen.” Webpage from the Nordenfjelske Kunstindustrimuseum. This Norwegian museum has the largest collection of Hannah Ryggen’s tapestries.

“Hannah Ryggen, 1894-1970,” AbsoluteTapestry website. https://www.absolutetapestry.com/artist/hannah-ryggen/

Paasche, Marit. Hannah Ryggen: Threads of Defiance. London: Thames & Hudson, 2019.

A web search of Hannah Ryggen’s name will turn up many articles that include photos of her amazing tapestries.

This article originally appeared in Tapestry Topics from the American Tapestry Alliance, Spring 2025, Vol. 51 Issue 2.

Help support wonderful articles on Scandinavian textiles with a donation to the Norwegian Textile Letter. Thank you! Tusen takk!

Nordic News and Notes – Summer 2025

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Nordic Craft Week

Nordic Craft Week is an annual campaign on Facebook celebrating Nordic handicraft. For a week each autumn the Nordic countries come together to showcase both their unique local craft techniques and their shared cultural heritage. It was first held in 2018, initiated by the Nordic Folk Art and Craft Federation. Follow Nordic Craft Week on Facebook.

Magnhild Peggy Jones Gilje drafted a pattern for a band to share at Nordic Craft Week 2024. Here are the instructions in English. NCW 2024 – Pattern – Braces from Tovdal in Åmli

The Nordic Craft Week site lists the crafts chosen in earlier years. In 2019, the theme was mittens and there are links to patterns from several Nordic countries.

Rag Rug Article Online

Viveke Hansen wrote a beautiful online article for the IK Foundation, Swedish Rag Rugs – A History of Recycling Fabric from the 18th Century to Present-day. (January 20, 2024) The article is rich with historical photos of Swedish interiors with rag rugs.

An Online Article Features Bolsters and Pillows

Vivike Hansen writes on the iTextilis site (March 2025) about “Bolsters and Pillows – Swedish Weaving Traditions and Historical Reproductions.” “Durable handwoven striped woollen qualities used for warm feather/down bolsters and pillows were popular in many Swedish farming communities for centuries. These textiles – named “bolstervar” – were sometimes stuffed with straw, reeds, horsehair, grass or other easily acquired materials instead.”

Read an Article about a Talented Iowa Weaver

The Winter 2024-25 issue of Inspire(d) Driftless Magazine from Decorah, Iowa, featured “Laura Demuth: A Beautifully Woven Life,” by Laura Barlament. You will be inspired by Demuth’s life story, and by the gorgeous photos.

Watch a Film about Band Weaving

Swedish weaver Sonja Berlin has been studying and weaving bands since the mid-1970s. Her work was featured in an exhibit, Trådar och tankar (Threads and Thoughts) at Sörmlands Museum in Nyköping, Sweden, from February 25-May 18, 2025. The exhibit has ended, but we are lucky that there is a marvelous film available online, with English subtitles, about her innovative work with band weaving.

Watch a Webinar about Sámi Bandweaving

A new webinar from Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum is the first in a series of cross-cultural explorations of band weaving traditions. Sámi Bandweaving features Weaver and Sámi culture bearer Laurel Sanders.

Take a Course in Person or Learn Online

The Midwest has a wealth of Scandinavian textile learning opportunities. Check out the fiber classes at North House Folk School in Grand Marais, the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum courses, and the textile offerings among the American Swedish Institute’s Nordic Handcraft classes. Several courses are virtual, so Norwegian Textile Letter readers from anywhere can benefit.

Heather Torgenrud will give a Sami band weaving webinar through Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum in September.

Help support wonderful articles on Scandinavian textiles with a donation to the Norwegian Textile Letter. Thank you! Tusen takk!