Migration of a Tradition: Norwegian Folk Dress in America

By Carol Huset Colburn

Originally published in Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition, Marion Nelson, Editor. New York : Abbeville Press, 1995.

Read the essay here: https://norwegiantextileletter.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/colburn.pdf Additional folk costume photos here: https://norwegiantextileletter.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/folk-dress.pdf

Carol Colburn looked back on the exhibit and the essay she wrote 25 years ago in this Q and A, May 2020.

Q & A – Robbie LaFleur and Carol Colburn

Robbie: Would you like to say something about your memories of the exhibition and/or the book?

Carol: Marion Nelson and Lila Nelson were important mentors early in my career. In the mid-1970s, Marion asked this question of all his Art History students at the University of Minnesota – “What do you want to do with your life?” At that time, my answer was a bit ambitious – “Save the world’s textiles.” Hearing that, he suggested starting with Norwegian textiles and arranged an internship at Vesterheim Museum in Decorah, where he was also Director. There I began studying the collection while delving into a textile conservation project with Lila, Registrar and Curator of Textiles at the museum. With inspiration and guidance from Marion and Lila, I began to do research more specifically on Norwegian-American immigrant clothing, hoping to answer questions that arose from studying that collection.

Almost 20 years later it was a late night 1993 when I was awakened by a phone call from Marion, calling from NYC. Having completed meetings at the Museum of American Folk Art, the plan for a traveling exhibition Migration of a Tradition was coming together. For the catalog, he needed a commitment immediately for contributing an essay on Norwegian folk dress in America. I had most of the research already, from my work in the archives at Vesterheim and at the Norwegian American Historical Association. Marion and Lila would both help with editing and focusing my article to address themes Marion intended to explore in his curation of the exhibition.

Viewing the exhibition in three of the museum venues reinforced for me the central theme of migration of folk art. Different perspectives on this theme emerged as it was presented and received in Minnesota, New York City and Oslo – more or less in reverse order of emigration from Norway. Marion’s curatorial focus on the people (the folk in folk art) who made this art hit home to me – each piece reflects an artisan’s aspiration, reaching across geography and time.

The exhibition opened first at the Minnesota Museum of American Art (Landmark Center location) in St. Paul. The Midwest is home for many of the contemporary artisans represented in the exhibit, so the opening was well attended by those folks, along with the eager public. Later that year at the Museum of American Folk Art in New York City, an international seminar offered the opportunity for everyone involved in developing the catalog and exhibit to gather and to expand on our topics in public presentations. At the opening of the exhibition at the Norsk Folkemuseum in Oslo, I remember the reception spilling out from the galleries into the open air museum grounds, accompanied by musicians and tables of traditional foods. What could be better?

Aagot Noss wrote the essay which precedes my essay in the catalog, and I felt honored to be in the same publication. I am indebted to her work, which illuminates the translation of the language of clothing that happened in America. In the years between 1992 and 2011, I made about 15 research trips to Norway, always visiting with Aagot to discuss current projects. In her long career as Curator and then Head Curator at the Norsk Folkemuseum, she gave us knowledge of the history and meanings of Norwegian rural folk dress traditions with oral histories, film, collecting, and writing. A prolific author since the 1970s, after the summary essay written for this catalog, she went on to publish seven additional books between 1996 and 2012, documenting her detailed knowledge of the dress of specific Norwegian regions.

Looking through the catalog again, now I am aware of what is not there. There is no essay specifically about woven textiles, although the items chosen for the exhibit included a rich selection of historical and contemporary weavings. Weaving in America and Norway is discussed within the essays by Marion Nelson and Albert Steen respectively. Lila Nelson would have been the logical author for an essay on weaving, but in this catalog what we have instead is her strong presence and knowledge of the Vesterheim woven textile collection as it is represented in illustrations and captions. Her fostering of weaving in the contemporary community of weavers has been recognized through her teaching at Vesterheim for many years, and included in the exhibition and catalog is an example of her own Vestfold weaving from 1987.

Robbie: Do you have comments on changes in the use of folk dress since you wrote the article?

Carol: In Norway and America my observation has been that interest in historical folk dress, Norwegian national costume, and each regional folk dress and bunad has increased in the last decades and remains strong in the 21^st century. On both sides of the Atlantic, on the individual and family level, and still within heritage organizations in America, these handmade garments are treasured for the art and craft involved in their making, as well as the history and cultural associations embodied in wearing them. Increased ease of travel has increased awareness among Americans. For some, this travel throughout Norway leads to visits to Husflid (home craft) shops in Oslo or in small towns, where purchasing materials or completed garments is easy, if expensive. Expert embroidery and sewing instruction is available back in America. I have come to realize that “Saving the world’s textiles” can also mean passing on the skills required in their making. The recent flourishing of the teaching of craft in folk schools across the country provides an environment where these skills are sustained.

Robbie: Any follow-up that happened as a result of the publication?

Carol: I will relate a recent family story, which brought to mind the ideas in this article, and led me to understand the historical record in a very personal way. Heritage on both sides of my family is from Norway, but I’ve never seen any old photographs of relatives wearing traditional dress, and I’ve known of no textile items that were handed down. Then in 2017 I received a question from my second cousin. Among her mother’s things she found a red wool women’s vest and two beaded pieces stored together, but it was not clear how they might fit together.

Breastplate owned by Daisy Rood. Photo: Carol Colburn.

The vest had a hand-written label with the name Daisy Rood, our great aunt, born in 1891. In two generations, the recognition and meaning of this Hardanger-style set of pieces belonging to a Norwegian national costume had been completely lost. In fact, the three pieces together reflect very closely the garments depicted 1890s post card pictured in color at the start of this article. The vest, beaded breastplate and beaded belt were treasured enough to be handed down in the family, but their story was lost.

Postcard from Norway illustrating national costume, Ca. 1890s. Color postcards of this kind could have been an inspiration to Norwegian Americans who made their own costumes. The decorative designs in the beadwork appear to be drawn on the photograph for clarity. Carol Huset Colburn.

Although I can’t know for sure if my great aunt Daisy looked at this post card to make her Hardanger national costume, clearly she had worn the vest and beadwork together, perhaps for folk dance, or for other festive occasions. The Rood family was active in South Minneapolis Norwegian-American organizations such as Valdres Samband (a bygdelag organization), and Sons of Norway. I won’t know all the answers – but it was rewarding to piece together this small family puzzle, and to share this essay with my cousin. Maybe the essay will answer questions others have about the significance of dress as a reflection of heritage, among Norwegian-Americans or in the broader context within the mosaic of immigrant cultures in America.

Thank you Robbie and NTL for this project of re-publishing the catalog essays and photographs representing textiles and clothing from the exhibition. Now I am going to re-read the other essays in the catalog, revisiting the themes explored with a 21^st century perspective.

Recent resources to explore:

Digitalmuseum.no A free database of artifacts from Norwegian and Swedish museums. Contains many images of folk dress, national costume, and other folk art.

Magasinet bunad (“The Bunad Magazine”) A publication in Norwegian language, issued twice yearly. Beautifully illustrated articles and ads showcase historical folk dress and current bunad traditions. Subscription available through Vesterheim Museum Store.

RETRO REPRINT: For the Loom–Combination Double and Single-Point Krokbragd

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Revisiting the Norwegian Textile Letter Volume 1, No. 2, January 1995

This short article featured a weaving draft, for krokbragd including both single and double points.

For The Loom

Many of our members expressed interest in receiving drafts or weaving information that they can translate to their looms. From time to time we will include drafts.

Combination Krokbragd. In this threading, traditional single and double krokbragd appear in the same draft. The woven piece appears to have a compressed border with a more exaggerated pattern area in the center. When using more than two colors for a motif the appearance becomes quite linear. Any of the motifs found on page 23 and 24 of Akleboka by Gauslaa and Astby can be threaded for both single and double krokbragd with pleasing results. I have not tried to expand the single motif examples on earlier pages of this book.

This is a cryptic excerpt without access to the Norwegian book, and with no photos. Happily, Jan Mostrom has woven a combination krokbragd that illustrates this draft nicely. The draft above can be adjusted, depending on the width of the piece, and how many single points you would like at each edge.

For this piece, Jan Mostrom used 12/9 swine twine @ 7.5 ends /inch, with a 15 dent reed sleyed every other dent. The weft was 6/2 Rauma prydvev.

Here’s a detail from the right-hand edge. You can see the shift from double-points to single points clearly.

And because some weavers like to see the reverse side–here’s the BACK of the krokbragd.

Thanks to Patty Johnson for reproducing the draft so it is legible, and thanks to Jan Mostrom for such a beautiful piece to illustrate the technique.

Book Review–Hannah Ryggen: Threads of Defiance

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By Sally Reckert

Courtesy of the British Tapestry Group, first published on their website in January, 2020.

Review: Hannah Ryggen: Threads of Defiance,
by Marit Paasche

Thames & Hudson, 2019
288 pages
ISBN 9780500094099 hannah-ryggen-threads-of-defiance hardcover

In 2011 a bomb detonated in front of the “Highrise,” (the colloquial name of the government building Oslo), leaving Hannah Ryggen’s tapestry “We are Living on a Star” lying in a pool of dirty water, concrete rubble and shards of glass. Later the bomber, Anders Behring Breivik, went on to kill 69 people, most of them children, at a youth camp on the island of Utøya.

Hannah Ryggen (1894-1970) would have woven this horror as a monumental tapestry and ensured that it was hung in a public space in memory of these wasted lives. She was a Swedish/􏰗Norwegian artist whose tapestries were well 􏰗known and admired in her lifetime, and was recognised as a genius by her, mainly male, critics. Her large output of tapestry work was mainly publicly hung as she refused private commissions when possible. She exhibited internationally on a regular basis but fell into the unknown from the 1970s. Frustratingly the author, Marit Paasche, doesn’t cover this period and so tell us why. Perhaps she’ll write a second work on Ryggen?

The significance of Hannah Ryggen as one of the most important figures in the history of Scandinavian art has 􏰂􏰀􏰐􏰔only recently been rediscovered internationally, mainly thanks to Marit Paaschewho has studied Ryggen’s work for the past ten years. Ryggen’s rich􏰌􏰅􏰀􏰎􏰍 􏰉􏰇􏰏􏰊archive of news cuttings, photographs, sketches and letters 􏰇􏰀􏰈􏰂􏰉􏰃􏰅􏰄 informed Paasche’s work, whether radical political statements against fascism or against poverty􏰇􏰀􏰍􏰆 􏰕􏰂􏰓􏰅􏰉􏰆􏰔and cruelty and injustice in her own country, newly independent Norway. Using these sources, Paasche focuses on the period of Ryggen’s life that she shared with her husband Hans between the weaving of “Fishing on the Sea of Debt” (1933) and “We are Living on a Star” (1958). In “We are Living on a Star” Ryggen􏰔􏰌􏰌􏰅􏰀 has woven a naked man and woman lying within a large oval, the couple are encircled by a blue band binding and separating time, two babies lie either side of their feet; the family surrounded by the infinity of the cosmos. Ryggen explained her thinking behind the tapestry: “I chose the shortest route: woman man child. They meet on earth, star among other stars, why no one knows, where they come from no one knows. They are there together: life’s highest expression and purpose, and two children already on their way to continue on the same path.”􏰜

Responding to her grief at Hans’s death, Ryggen wove “We are Living on a Star” (1958) on a loom built by him. She had been commissioned, in 1955, by the Norwegian state to weave three monumental tapestries, to themes of her choice, to hang in the new government building, the Regjeringsbygget or Highrise designed by Erling Viksjø, whose novel sandblasted walls were the only other decoration.

There was another side to Ryggen’s life and work which illuminated everything she did, her closeness to nature, her respect and dependence on it and all other living things. “Us and our Animals” (1934) was woven in response to the necessary slaughter of her geese including her beloved Kakaleja: “I had ten geese. We slaughtered them all at once. I haven’t eaten goose since.” Unusually, for depictions of nature during this period, there is no sentimental romanticism. For the Ryggens on their small-holding, nature was very real. In 1948 Malmö Museum bought “Us and Our Animals” for 25,000 Swedish kroner, a not inconsiderable sum which caused heated debate. As the Director, Ernst Fischer, wrote, “I managed to secure the purchase today. Politics were involved…The naysayers insisted on remaining anonymous in the minutes.”

Hannah Ryggen’s visually powerful tapestries are a mixture of folk narrative and decoration, social commentary and pure colours. The wool was mostly spun by her from her own sheep and dyed by her using local plants. At once hard-hitting and humorous, her works combine personal candour, social and political engagement and visual majesty.

Paasche explores Ryggen’s bold subject matter, particular blend of abstraction and figuration, and use of contemporary and folk art not only within the context of Ryggen’s life and beliefs, but also in the context of European art and politics of the first half of the 20th century. Not reading Norwegian, it’s hard for me to know whether Paasche writes well or is served well by her translator, Katie Stieglitz, or a mixture of the two; but taken together the women speak confidently and calmly, leaving the tapestries, informed by Ryggen’s voice through her archive, to speak for themselves.

Included in the book are excellent illustrations, many with detailed accompanying images, together with numerous photographs showing Hannah with her family on their small-holding, and in her contemporary world. But this is not a picture book for the coffee table. It is a very readable and scholarly account of Ryggen’s work, backed up by a comprehensive list of works, bibliography, footnotes and archive resources. ‘Hannah Ryggen: Threads of Defiance’ provides an account of a remarkable artist. I recommend it to both weavers and non-weavers as a well-written document of a fascinating and turbulent time for Europe and it effect on an artist who engaged and wove to the full the life around her.

Review by Sally Reckert (sally@reckert.com) October 2019

Sally Reckert is an avid tapestry weaver who lives in Richmond, Yorkshire, England. She is also the editor of the British Tapestry Group’s journal, Tapestry Weaver. Sally has a tapestry in the upcoming exhibit, The Baldishol: A Medieval Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles. Read about this tapestry with special resonance now: Sally Reckert: Marching Toward the Unknown.

RETRO REPRINT: The Ruteaklaer Tradition in Norway

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Revisiting the Norwegian Textile Letter Volume 1, No. 2, January 1995

By Lila Nelson

Of the various types of coverlets produced and used on the farms in Norway during the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries, those with geometric forms woven in certain tapestry techniques have been surprisingly neglected. Much more interest has been taken in the two major pile weaves, flossa and rya, and more is known of their history. This parallels the situation in the Orient, to which the rya knot can be traced, where pile woven carpets have until recently eclipsed concern with flat woven types. Marit Wang’s Ruteaklaer (Oslo: Univeritetsforlaget, 1983) is the first in-depth study of Norway’s geometric patterned tapestry coverlets.

[This rutevev coverlet is similar to the one in the original article. From the collection of Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Full record here.]

Like many folk textiles, the coverlets have been known by a variety of names, and recently scholars have tried to arrive at one generally accepted and understood term. Aklae¹ has been in common usage to denote coverlets of which the geometric are only one example. In Akleboka (Gauslaa and Ostby, Landbruksforlaget, 1977), aklae included twills, overshot, bound weaves and double weaves in addition to the tapestry types. Smettaklae infers the technique; this refers to aklaer woven with small butterflies or bobbins with discontinuous wefts. Ruteaklae identifies the design as being built up of square blocks (Janice Stewart in her FOLK ARTS OF NORWAY uses the term “square weave” in identifying geometric tapestry coverlets), while Vestlandsaklae indicates the area in Norway where most of the coverlets were produced.

Recently the Swedish term rolaken has been used in an effort to standardize nomenclature on a broader level (Nordisk Tekstilteknisk Terminologi by Stromberg, Geijer, Hald, and Hoffman, Oslo, published, 1974, and Wang, Ruteaklaer). However, since I believe that weavers in this area still generally identify rolakan with one specific type of tapestry coverlet from Sweden, I will use the term chosen by Wang for the title of her study, ruteaklae.

When interlock tapestry, of which ruteaklae is a type, came into Norway is not known. Archaeological finds in Sweden from the eighth and ninth centuries have included fragments of rolakan considered by some scholars to be indigenous. Anna-Maja Nylen states that it is generally believed rolakan existed in an unbroken tradition in Sweden from prehistoric times.²

Janice Stewart equates the development of ruteaklae with that of chip carving in Norway,³ both appearing in the Middle Ages, although no examples from that period have been documented in any of the Nordic countries. Einar Lexow, in his 1914 study of the 280 rutaeklaer then in the Bergen Museum, speculated that the technique might have begun at a time when a sharp demarcation between rural and urban did not exist; that the eighteenth century marked the period of development among the Norwegian peasants and the nineteenth and twentieth centuries a time of gradual decadence and decline.⁴ The date of production for most extant ruteaklaer can only be surmised. Lexow dates one Sogn coverlet in the Bergen collection as no older than 1700 on the basis of the dress and pipe styles of two smoking figures in the upper center.⁵ Unfortunately, such figures are rare in ruteaklaer and, equally unfortunately, dates were seldom woven into them.

Areas of western and southern Norway where ruteaklaer were woven. Numbers refer to the Bergen Museum collection as of 1975.

A little more is known about the locus of production. Of the 346 coverlets now in the Bergen Museum (the largest individual collection in Norway), the provenance of 205 is known. Practically all come from the west coast fjord area as far north as Sunnmore and south to Mandal on the southern tip (see map, fig. 1). The highest concentration within that area is midway, in Sogn (49 aklaer) and Nordhordland (45), and in their bordering regions, Sunnfjord (23) to the north and Hardanger (19) to the south. Lexow’s additional examination of aklaer in the collections of the Kristiania Museum of Industrial Arts, the Norwegian Folk Museum and the Maihaugen collection confirmed these conclusions. The few having inland provenances were believed to have been imports from west Norway.

General characteristics of ruteaklaer include a rectangular shape around four feet in width and five feet in length. The majority are made in one piece, indicating the use of a wide loom; but in the southern areas many are woven in two equal sections joined down the center. The warp is generally of linen or hemp in the earliest pieces, but a tight twist cotton appears later. A small number throughout the west coast area have wool warps. The warp, generally single but sometimes double stranded, is spaced so that it is completely covered by the wool weft, which is packed down to produce a satisfactorily tight and warm coverlet. The occasional appearance of heading cords suggests that some aklaer were woven on a vertical loom; Marta Hoffmann has written about a west coast loom with both upper and lower beams, as well as the warp-weighted loom, which was in common use throughout the country long after the introduction of the horizontal loom on the European continent.⁶ Fringed upper and lower borders probably indicate revival pieces made for decorative use only; the early aklaer were simply turned under and firmly stitched. The designs making up the body of the pieces are built up in blocks of two, four or six warp widths, with four being the standard. Upper and lower borders are generally present in widely varying designs and sizes; four-sided borders seem to occur only in pieces from the southern areas. The ruteaklaer which, unlike the above, have an all-over banded composition, appear to be unique to the area of Nordhorland.

From the standpoint of tapestry techniques, the body of ruteaklaer were executed in four ways. Of these, the single interlock method seems to have predominated. In this method, meeting wefts are linked between warps when moving one direction only, fig.1. Double interlock, a linkage of wefts in both directions as in rolakan, fig.2 was a close second, although it appears that single interlock has been more common in late nineteenth and twentieth century coverlets.

A considerable smaller group has single dovetailed joins (meeting wefts share a common warp), fig.3, and a very few represent mixed techniques. Of 345 aklaer in the Bergen Collection, grouping according to technique was follows:⁷

Reasons for method choices are speculative. One could presume that a practical-minded housewife would prefer aklaer woven in single interlock because these were reversible. They were not however, as heavy as double interlock pieces, a factor to consider in cold climates. Marit Monsen in the 1975 yearbook of Sunnmore Museum, points up the possibility of a relationship between design and method. She noted that of the twelve ruteaklaer from Sunnmore in the Bergen collection, the seven with eight-petaled flower motifs were done in single interlock; the four with diagonal line compositions were double interlock; and the one with both motifs included both techniques. Wang found that the eight-petaled flower “appears proportionately more frequently in coverlets woven with single interlocking’.⁸

Professor Lexow from his 1914 study came to the conclusion that the wide variety of designs found in ruteaklaer developed from an originally uniform motif, the eight-petaled flower. He describes it quite explicitly:

The motif repeated in all coverlets of this older type is the eight-petaled flower with two dark colors alternating in adjoining petals. The space between the petals is yellow at top, bottom, and on both sides, and white in other spaces. Around the flower is always found an octagonal frame of darker color. This figure is almost identical on these coverlets, with insignificant variations only in color. Four of the petals are always of a reddish-violet color (from a vegetable dye made from lecanora tartaria). The other four petals are usually green or brown but now often faded completely gray; occasionally they are also blue.The frame is woven in the same colors as those of the flower. Yellow and white are the unchanging ground colors. The same rule for color placement is adhered to here as in heraldry: ‘either color on metal, or metal on color’; that is, darker colors must never be placed close to each other but must always be separated by light colors (gold and silver in heraldry, yellow and white in square weave)’⁹

Traditional eight-petaled flower. Rutevev from Hordaland in the collection of the Norsk Folkemuseum. Full record here.

Variation in the arrangement of the flowers occurred early and developed in some cases as clearly localized character. In Hardanger they became smaller than in Sogn and Sunnfjord and were repeated, often in white, up to 24 times, while broken-up diagonals with complex color and design arrangements dotted the divisions between the flowers.

Hardanger coverlet in the collection of the Norsk Folkemuseum. Full record here.

The colors were usually the standard red, yellow, and natural white and black, but in brighter shades than found to the north in Sogn, with sometimes blue or green included. Eventually the division blocks between petals as well as the alternating color arrangement disappeared, leaving a simplified form of an eight-pointed star. Generally speaking, the coverlets of Sogn and the north have big bold flowers in larger blocks of color than are usual in Hardanger and the south. In Nordhordland a distinctively horizontal orientation developed, with the eight-petaled flower only one of other motifs and techniques occurring in narrow bands across an entire piece. Relatively dark shades of red and blue also distinguished many of these coverlets.

Banded coverlet from Hordaland. Norsk Folkemuseum. Full record here.

The Celtic knot motif has been found often though not exclusively, in Sogn. It is a motif to which magic properties were once ascribed, but it is not known that this or any other motif had symbolic significance as used in aklaer. While in some media the knot has circular loops in each of the four corners, in geometric weaving these have become squares. The knot has appeared within the center of an eight-pointed star, in a double form in horizontal rows, and in a highly complex structure of 20 interlocked knots rather than the standard four.

A highly complex variant of the celtic knot from Sogn. Norsk Folkemuseum. Full record here.

In other variations the knots have been opened to form a motif called the nine crosses.

A coverlet dominated by the nine-cross motif. From Slottsfjellmuseet. Full record here.

In still another, referred to as the nine-flowers motif, the crosses have each become closed triangles. Finally, it has been combined with a variation of the lily cross in which the Celtic knot is practically obscured.

While crosses and diamonds fill the diagonals between flowers and knot motifs, they also comprise the only motifs in some aklaer. Four diamonds clustered together to form a large diamond called a hodnrose (horned flower) sometimes alternated with a five-diamond arrangement known as kollerose or hornless flower. These seem to appear in all of the west coast areas where ruteaklaer were found.

The ornamentation on upper and lower borders, which can be found in practically every rutaklaer, varies considerably in width, design, and technique. By far the most widely prevalent – and often the only- border designs are narrow stripes and two-color alterations called kjerringtenner (hag’s teeth). All the colors of the piece are picked up and blended in what is usually a pleasing contrast to the bolder blocks of color and design in the body. Other borders, which occur in approximately decreasing frequency in the order of their listing, include:

This brief introduction points up how much is left to be studied about ruteaklear. The extensive collections in Norwegian museums other than Bergen, as well as the many in private possession, need to be catalogued. Microscopic examination of warps to determine the nature of what Wang describes only as non-wool could answer questions about the introduction and distribution of cotton in rural Norway. The relationship of ruteaklaer to the pictorial tapestry tradition in Norway is a field of further exploration. Very little has been done to relate ruteaklaer to geometric flat weavings of Poland, Rumania, Bulgaria, and parts of western Europe. And of particular interest here, the number of ruteaklaer in private and public collections brought to this country as a result of the Norwegian immigration should be located and researched. They are a part of that complex and diverse entity which comprises the folk art tradition of America.

¹The spelling of aklae varies according to chronology and place. Akled, for example, is an early form.

²Ann-Maja Nylen. Tr. Anne Charlotte Harvey. Swedish Handcrafts, New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold Co, 1977, p.151.

³Janice Stewart. The Folk Arts of Norway, New York: Dover Publications, Inc., 1972, Second edition p.164.

⁴Einer Lexow. Tr. John Gundersen. Vestlanksk Vevkunst. Monograph reprinted from the Bergens Museums Aarbok, 1914. P.27.

⁵Lexow,p.7.

⁶Marta Hoffmann, En Gruppe Vevstoler pa Vestlandet, Oslo: pub, 1958; ibid, The Warp-Weighted Loom Studia Norwegica No 14, Oslo, 1964.

7Marit Wang, Ruteaklaer, Universitetetsforlaget, 1983, p. 147.

8Wang, p. 148 (English summary)

9Lexow, pp. 5-6.

Reprinted with permission form THE TEXTILE COUNCIL of the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Spring 1994

Would you like to see more rutevev coverlets?

Here are a few from the virtual galleries of Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum.

The Norwegian Digital Library, digitaltmuseum.no, includes artifacts from many museums in Norway. If you enter “rutevev” in the search box, you can see almost 400 pieces.

Migration of a Tradition: Tapestry Images

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Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition (Abbeville Press, 1995) features beautiful photos of Norwegian billedvev, or tapestry. The section is available in pdf format here: “Reflections of the Renaissance: The Tapestry Technique and Picture Weaving.”

Several historical tapestries were included in the book and the exhibit it celebrated. Also, two modern pieces reflected Norwegian billedvev tradition: a tapestry by Nancy Jackson and a quilt by Helen Kelly.

Nancy Jackson, “The Battle of the Horse and Bull”

When Marion Nelson asked Nancy Jackson if her tapestry, “The Battle of the Horse and Bull,” could be included in the traveling exhibition, she felt very honored. He told her he thought her tapestry was an important link between the old Norwegian picture tapestries and the newer Norwegian tapestry images. It was also meaningful because Marion’s wife Lila was important to Nancy’s development as an artist. Nancy wrote, “I always respected Marion and Lila so much, and consider Lila to be the first person who opened my eyes to tapestry as a serious weaving expression. She understood me and directed me through the many letters we wrote back and forth after she taught my first tapestry weaving class in the late 1970s.”

Nancy Jackson, “Battle of the Horse & Bull.” 41-inches x 58-inches. Materials: Wool on cotton warp. Photo: Charlie Langton of Vesterheim Museum.

While Nancy never saw the show in person, it led to a marvelous new tapestry. Nancy’s Norwegian friends saw the show in Oslo, completely by chance, and were excited when they found “The Battle of the Horse and the Bull” by their friend back in the U.S. Later Nancy wove a commissioned tapestry for the couple, a five-foot-high “King Olav,” inspired by Norwegian billedvev tradition.

Nancy Jackson continued to have a distinguished career as a tapestry artist and icon painter. In 2003-2004 Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum held an exhibit of Nancy’s work: Incarnations: A Nancy Jackson Retrospective 1980-2003. “The Battle of the Horse and Bull” was featured prominently, along with the working documents, including the life-sized cartoon and woven color samples.

See more of Nancy Jackson’s work at Timshel Tapestry and Iconography Studio.

Helen Kelley, “Renaissance”

Photo: Jason Onerheim, Minnesota Historical Society

Helen Kelly (1927-2008), a noted quilter from Minneapolis, Minnesota, paid homage to an old Norwegian billedvev design in “Renaissance.” Helen and her quilt were featured in the Norwegian Textile Letter in August, 2019. See: ““Under the Skin of Those Old Weavers”: Helen Kelley’s ‘Renaissance’ Quilt” By Lisa Anne Bauch.

The quilt is now in the collection of the Minnesota Historical Society.

Amy Axen: The Baldishol Bandana

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By Robbie LaFleur

Amy Axen, from Stony Creek, New York, was inspired by the images and designs in the Baldishol Tapestry to create her 21st-century “Baldishol Bandana,” both a decorative and functional piece. She studied the flora and fauna, and the geometric and organic shapes, in the original tapestry. She parsed the design elements and the story told in the images to create her own layered interpretation and homage. She began with careful study of the symbols in the Baldishol Tapestry.

She came up with came up with a complex, layered design and prepared both hand-carved wood blocks and hand-cut pochoir stencils for her textile printing.

Amy wrote in her application, “Each iconic image…will be inspired by those utilized in this treasured, historic, Norwegian antecedent.”

She mimicked the colors of the original tapestry with several botanical inks and dyes, including ochres harvested on a recent drive from San Diego, California, to the Adirondack Mountains in upstate New York.

With color and symbols she added layers of meaning.

The finished piece:

Amy has a broad art education and work background. She majored in Fine Art for both her undergraduate and graduate degrees, worked in the art departments of two magazine publishing companies and an advertising agency, and finished her formal career with over two decades as an art educator in public and private schools. She is skilled in several media, and especially enjoys drawing, painting, print and book making, ceramics, jewelry, puppetry, and animation. And fiber! Amy remembers two special textile mentors. She remains grateful to her junior high school Home Economics teacher who taught her to pin, cut, sew and iron a garment made from a paper pattern. Later, she felt blessed to be introduced to both dyeing and and the beauty of tapestry weaving by her professor, Margaret Kilbuck Johansen (1921-2004).

Amy Axen pulled together her Baldishol design into layers of meaning, a joyful re-assemblage of symbols from the Medieval tapestry, using skills from her rich and varied career. And despite the current challenges and constraints of the pandemic, she wrote, “Now, in “retirement,” each day I awaken to continue to create and I love every moment of it, just as I always have.”

During the summer of 2020, follow along with stories of the artists and several virtual experiences during the Norway House exhibit, The Baldishol: A Medieval Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles.

Red is the Finest Color We Have: On Color in Coverlet Weaving in Setesdal around 1900

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By Karin Bøe

This article is from my book Rugger og Brossar. Åkle i Setesdal (2012). My research was built on many fine conversations with older folks who grew up with traditional weaving, on examining registered coverlets, and written records. I registered 233 coverlets with diverse weaving techniques: square weave (smetting), plain weave with pick-and-pick, rosepath, krokbragd, and diamond twill. They were from Bykle, Valle, and Bygland in Setesdal. Most were in private hands, and some in museums and other collections.

A registered coverlet in smetting [rutevev or square weave]

An åkle [“OH kleh] is a woven coverlet that was used on a bed. It adorned a bed in the main room by day and was a warm covering at night. But in Setesdal they didn’t use the word åkle. Furthest north in Setesdal, in Bykle and Valle, they called it a rugge (plural=ruggar); further south, in Hylestad and Bygland, they used the term brosse.

An old rugge with just three colors, in two-shaft, or plain weave.

Natural Dye Colors

I know of very few rugger dyed with natural dyes. The colors from natural dyes are somewhat less bright than those from chemical dyes, but it can be difficult to tell the difference. Brown from stone lichen is, however, often used in coverlets, for darker and lighter brown. Colors such as pink, violet, and turquoise are typical chemical dyes. If you see a coverlet including any of them, it is likely that most of the other colors are chemically dyed too.

Chemical Dye Colors

Chemical dyes were invented around the end of the 1800s. Violet came first and was discovered in the 1850s; blue came in the 1890s. At the beginning quality was poor, but it improved over time. Pink, violet and turquoise were new colors for Setesdal weavers, and they became popular. Mari Langerak wrote that lavender was very fashionable in weaving and embroidery in the 1920s, but after a few years people quit using it. We often see these new chemical colors in the registered rugger.

Many of the interviewees described purchasing powdered chemical dyes in small paper bags or metal boxes. Each packet included instructions for using the dye, so it was an easy process.

But it was difficult to get the colors to hold. Birgit Byklum and Birgit Breive said that the home-dyed colors could easily bleed. Gyro T. Homme would not use white in a coverlet, for fear the other colors would run into it. She said that before the war there were some colors that were poor quality and would bleed, which of course was not good. Ingebjørg Bakken also thought it was difficult, but she did the best she could, adding salt to the dye to make it more colorfast.

A rugge with 14 colors; many are faded.

In several of the coverlets you can see that the colors have bled into one another. That which perhaps was white is no longer white, instead taking on a light pink or gray cast. In some rugger there can be a definite gray cast over the whole piece. It could be that poor quality dyes were used, and the colors have bled into one another.

Some colors were especially prone to bleeding. Ingebjørg Bakken thought blue and gold were especially unstable, which you can definitely see in old coverlets. Blue and colors that included blue, like violet and green, have often completely faded and can look almost white today. Red-violet or deep pink is another color that fades a great deal. It is not as easy to see whether gold has faded.

When the colors are faded the coverlets can appear to have been woven in pastels, but when you look on the back side, or in between the threads, you can often see the original colors. Sometimes the colors can be so faded that it is very difficult to determine what the original colors might have been. For example, you can only see a nuance of blue or green.

Perhaps some colors were brighter when this was first woven?

A new rugge woven by Karin Bøe

It was difficult for a weaver to determine how much yarn of each color would be needed for a rugge. Ingebjørg Bakken said that you could talk with someone who had woven the pattern before, and ask how many spools should be dyed in each color. When you spin yarn the thread goes onto a spool. When the spool is full, you have to stop and wind the yarn off into a skein before you can spin further. Therefore, spools could serve as a measure for how much yarn you have spun or that you need to spin for your weaving.

Combining Colors

Jorunn Holum said, “I associate Valle-colors with those that are clear, fine, and bright,” Many of the interviewees said they like strong colors. And some said that they like duskier or matte colors better, but colors were stronger in the past.

If you have tried weaving, you know how difficult it is to put colors together. You can lay out the yarn in a variety of colors on the table and see what looks good. But when you weave the colors together it can become altogether different and not so great after all. To fix it means you must weave it again, so it’s best to get it right from the start. This was a problem the interviewees knew well. They say putting colors together is an art. If you don’t do it well, it can “destroy” the weaving.

Gyro T. Homme said, “Putting colors together is of great importance.” Gyro Longerak said that “the greatest art is putting colors together, the right colors, colors that work well with one another.” Tone Stavenes said, “It gives you a headache when you put colors together. It’s so awful.” Jorånd Bø also said it was difficult “until you find the colors you want. But once you solved that, it went well.” And Ingebjørg A. Uppstad said, “They put together colors little by little in coverlets.”

Rugge with a bright gold stripe

So there’s a difference, depending on whether weavers are clever with color or not. When Anne Myrum examined several weavings she said, “They work well all together. It is as if it is all one border. They have the same color tones throughout. There isn’t anything that sticks out.” She also said that “the color tones follow through the whole way.” She showed one coverlet she wove and said, “See, here I put in one gold (zigzag) stripe at the end. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve been irritated by that gold stripe my whole life!” The gold stripe near the end stuck out clearly from the rest of the coverlet.

Gyro T. Homme looked at a coverlet with plant-dyed yarn and commented, “I think these colors don’t show up enough, the two dark ones (green and brown). It appears as it’s all one whole. I would have liked more striking colors mixed in. Look here, these are too similar (gold and green).”

She meant the colors must differ enough from one another so they are properly visible. If the colors aren’t easily seen, there’s no point in putting so much work into your weaving. Another couple of weavers also said that the colors can’t be too similar. It’s a balancing act. The colors must be clearly differentiated, and at the same time they mustn’t stand out too much. They must be clear and evenly distributed so there is a sense of unity in the weaving.

An old rugge in rosepath

Some say that in the past weavers used the colors they had. And some say you can use the colors you want–just that they work together. But is it so easy? A Valle-kone (a woman from Valle in Setesdal) told about how she was once teaching a “city-woman” to do løyesaum (an embroidery technique with wool, mostly used on Setesdal national costumes). She told the “city-woman” she could pick whatever colors she wanted, and the “city-woman” chose green tones. That was a problem for the instructor from Valle, because in løyesaum it is the red colors that are central. For the Valle-kone the red color was a given, but clearly that was not the case with the “city-woman.”

I believe that in a small area with local traditions, local color preferences will develop. When people grow up and see the colors around them, they learn that’s the way it should be and they come to love those colors. I don’t think they are conscious of it at all. Of course there can be differences in taste, but it is within a certain unwritten and unconscious framework. When some people said they used the colors they had, I don’t think it was a fluke. They had those colors because it was the ones they liked and it that was the way it should be. But there was something to be said for using what colors were available. During and after World War I, for example, it was difficult to obtain embroidery yarn in their preferred colors. Then they might have had to use pink instead of red, or blue instead of green.

Colors in the Registered Rugs

The colors in rugger are preferably clear and sharp. The base color is most often black and the main color red. There is some green and blue. Using a little gold and a little white brightens it up, according to Gyro T. Homme. Approximately a third of the coverlets have some orange, pink, dark red, and/or violet. Gray, brown and mossy-brown were sometimes used.

“Red and green belong together, and gold and blue belong together,” said Gyro T. Homme. Especially red and green were often used together in rugger, but also a similar amount of red and blue. Yellow and blue or violet were used sometimes. These are complementary colors, but also have a warm-cold contrast. Contrast between light and dark was also used, for example orange, pink, white, or gold together with red, blue, dark red or black. Closely-related colors and shades of the warm colors were also often used, but not the cold colors. We often see the warm colors–red, orange, pink and dark red–used together. Green and blue together was were not so commonly used in Bykle and Valle, but somewhat more common in Bygland.

Colors in Løyesaum Embroidery

Now we will describe a bit about the colors in løyesaum embroidery on Setesdal national costumes, to compare them to coverlets. It was, of course, the same women who both wove and embroidered. Mari Langerak wrote about the typical medley of colors in løyesaum: mostly red, some blue and green and a little gold. There is also a little burgundy, a little white, and occasionally black. Red can be used every other time. Langerak wrote about the rhythm in the embroidery. Red characterizes the rhythm and it is red they begin with when they embroider. In løyesaum the colors on the scroll designs are very often two red, one green, two red, one blue, and so on.

Scrolls in embroidered løyesaum on a national costume

The authors of Rette Klede i Setesdal (Correct Clothing in Setesdal) wrote that the colors in løyesaum can should be sharp, with clear separation. Let’s look at several examples they wrote about. The scroll designs can be red, green, and blue. If you wanted more colors, you could trade out some of the red with pink or dark red. On flekkjesaum (“braided” satin stitch covering an area) it was written that the main color is red with green and blue in between. They believed that you shouldn’t have too many red colors close together or it would appear like a single red surface. “Ton i ton” (shades of the same color) don’t belong in Setesdalsaum (Setesdal embroidery). And when it came to trousers and vests for men, the rule was to use twice as much red as other colors.

Flekkesaum embroidery on a national costume

A vest for a man embroidered in løyesaum

Other colors that were used a bit were orange, violet and lavender, Langerak wrote. While she wrote violet and lavender, she perhaps meant violet and pink? She wrote that in the 1920s it was so fashionable to use “lilla”, or lavender, in weaving and løyesaum. But after a while people tired of the color. One Valle-kone said that she couldn’t tolerate those colors: “They don’t belong in our embroidery.”

In Rette Klede i Setesdal, they wrote that pink was used a great deal around the First World War. The reason was that when people bought yarn they bought an equal amount of each color. They used red yarn the most and then they weren’t able to get more during and after the war. So they used pink instead of red, and later became so tired of it they stopped using it altogether.

Langerak also described the oldest yarn they used for embroidery. It was called dyffelgarn and it came from Germany, as did løye yarn. But dyffelgarn had duskier, paler colors than løye. Red, blue, gold, green and black were used to embroider kinnplagg (baby shawls) and baptism caps. Many thought the old embroidery was finer and more beautiful, Langerak wrote.

We have seen that the use of color in løyesaum and rugger is very similar. The colors are clear and sharp and are clearly defined. Red is most frequently used, with a good bit of green and blue in between. Then there is a little gold and white. In addition there is some pink and dark red in embroidery and weaving. Orange, violet and blue-green, or turquoise, were often used in rugger, but less frequently in embroidery. A bit of black was also used in embroidery.

There can also appear to be more variation in the color tones in rugger than in løyesaum, for example green-gold, green-blue, blue-green, blue-violet, or gold gold-orange and orange-gold. That could be because the yarn for løyesaum came already dyed from the factory, while weaving yarn was spun and dyed by the weavers.

The base color in rugger is usually black. The base color in løyesaum can also be black, but also green.

In Conclusion

The art is in putting together colors in the right way. The colors should be distributed across the whole weaving for a unified look; none should stick out. Red colors were used a lot with some green and blue, a little gold and white, all on a black ground. The colors were put together in such a way as to make each color clearly delineated. To do that, weavers used contrast such as complementary colors, light/dark colors, and warm/cold colors. The use of these contrasts against a black ground gave a colorful and exuberant expression to the rugger in Setesdal, at any rate around 1900.

A newly-woven rugge

It’s exciting to work with these weavings and figure out how they would have appeared when they were new. Many surprises and color combinations turned up, ones I wouldn’t have thought of myself, or dared to try. That’s why it is important to conduct this research and display the results. The talented weavers of Setesdal deserve no less.

Karin Bøe moved to Valle in Setesdal in 1995 as a craft instructor. She began to study weaving traditions in the Setesdal region by examining coverlets and interviewing older weavers. In 1996 she began her business, Valle Vev, creating traditional weavings. She has a certificate in handwaving and a masters in traditional folk art. In 2012 she published her book, Rugger og Brossar. Åkle i Setesdal (Rugger og Brossar: Coverlets in Setesdal).

Photo from Karin Bø’s Valle Vev Facebook page

Translated by Robbie LaFleur and Lisa Torvik

Would you like to purchase Karin Bøe’s book Rugger og Brossar. Åkle i Setesdal (2012) (Rugger and Brossar Coverlets in Setesdal)? It is written in Norwegian with an English synopsis at the end. Contact Ken Koop in the Gift Shop at Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. The museum is currently out of stock, but more are on order.

Nordic Notes: Articles, Exhibits, and News

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Beginning with this issue, the Norwegian Textile Letter will include a regular column to alert readers to recommended online Scandinavian textile information. I often hear of interesting articles online, and this will be a venue to share. Several times each year I learn of Scandinavian textiles in gallery or museum exhibits. This “catch-all” Nordic News column will include websites, blogs, conferences, or projects. Let me know if you have items to share!

Articles

The Journal of Dress History is the academic publication of The Association of Dress Historians. This very readable historical article from 2018 chronicles the development of bunads (regional national costumes), and their relationship to traditional peasant dress. See: Solveig Strand. “The Norwegian Bunad: Peasant Dress, Embroidered Costume, and National Symbol.” The Journal of Dress History, Volume 2, Issue 3, Autumn 2018, pp. 100-121. (The link is to the whole issue; scroll to page 100 for the article.)

Claudio Cocco traveled all the way from Arizona to study drawloom weaving with Anne Nygård at her Damaskvev studio in Bjorn, Norway. Read about Claudia’s travel and textile adventure in her extensive blog post, Damask Adventure – Weaving at the 66th Parallel. You can follow Claudia’s further weaving adventures on her blog, Vairarenbeth’s Blog, and on Instagram, where she posts under the name #teacatweaver.

Exhibits

Ann-Mari Forsberg (Sweden, 1916–1992) for Märta Måås-Fjetterström, Red Crocus hanging, 1945. Cooper Hewitt Design Museum

A trip to Milwaukee this summer is in order, to visit a major exhibit, Scandinavian Design and the U.S., 1890-1980 at the Milwaukee Art Museum, from May 15–September 7, 2020. There are a substantial number of textiles included, 32 of the total of 180. From the overview:

Scandinavian Design and the United States, 1890–1980, will be the first major international loan exhibition to examine the extensive design exchanges between the United States and the Nordic countries (Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden) during the twentieth century. The exhibition will examine how both Nordic ideas about modern design and the objects themselves had an indelible impact on American culture and material life, as well as demonstrate America’s influence on Scandinavian design.

News

In Minnesota, the Scandinavian Weavers Study Group is embarking on a group project. 18 members will weave pillow tops in rosepath, inspired by Anna Östlund’s book, Från Januari blues till December röd: 18 kuddar i rosengång (From January Blues to December Reds: 18 pillows in rosepath). Watch for updates about the project on the Scandinavian Weavers blog, at scandinavianweaversmn.com.

Bedding before 1900 in Nordfjord

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By Ingrid Berger

You probably know what a coverlet, a rya or a blanket is [an åkle, napparye, or kvetel], but did you know that in earlier times these were bedding? Beds used to be in the room where guests were greeted and where people ate and worked. The bed, at least the visible part of the bed, was there for all to see.

Many layers

The Princess and the Pea lay on a bed with 20 down duvets and 20 mattresses. Without stretching the comparison further, the beds of Nordfjorders also had many layers at one time. The layers were not down duvets and mattresses, but various types of woven coverings. Topmost in a prepared bed in Nordfjord was a coverlet or a rya [a blanket with pile]. If it was a rya, then the pile side was facing downward. Beneath this layer was a wool blanket called “nearest blanket” [nemmaste kvetelen, or kvitelen]. The nearest blanket was soft and fine. Under this blanket lay the “under blanket” [ondekvetel], and it was between these two layers that people slept. The under blanket was a thin wool blanket. Beneath this layer lay a “straw blanket” [halmkvetel] over the straw, because it was upon straw that one ultimately laid. The straw blanket was heavy and stiff, perhaps a blanket that had become felted in the wash or an old and worn rya. It was with these layers of wool that the beds in Nordfjord were most often prepared, in any case on the farms in the countryside, and from long ago until the 1900s.

A “kvetel” [blanket] is the word that is most often used in Nordfjord in describing a wool blanket for the bed. In the Nynorsk dictionary the word “kvitel” is used. Such a blanket is less decorative than a rya or coverlet, with stripes or checks as part of the fabric. The blanket is often called “sheep-white” with stripes in “sheep-brown” or “sheep-black,” an indication that people used the natural wool colors they had. NFM.0000-03769 Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Nordfjord Folk Museum

Bed covers, including coverlets, ryas and blankets, were commonly woven in the home during wintertime. In this photo one sees the beginning of a blanket that is being woven on a loom. A blanket is often sewn together in the middle from two lengths because most looms were not wide enough. This loom is standing just beside a bed made up with a similar blanket. The bed and loom are part of the interior in “Moritsstova” from farm nr. 012 Rygg in Gloppen municipality, now at Nordfjord Folk Museum. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

Coverlet – the top layer

In times past, the bed, and the uppermost layer of the bed, were much more visible than is common today. It is not surprising that a good deal of effort was devoted to making the bed look nice. The coverlet, whose most important role was as a bed cover, was most often topmost on the bed. But through changing times and changing needs, the coverlet has been used as a wall hanging, a table cloth, a rug, a sled or carriage blanket, a christening blanket and a drape for a coffin. As a coverlet became more and more worn, it could see such uses as a horse blanket or a covering for potatoes. A coverlet was made only if one was finished with all the weaving that was necessary for a year, and as such, a coverlet was an extra flourish, an indication of abundance and prosperity. A beautiful coverlet was also an indication of skill. But it wasn’t everyone who had the opportunity to weave, and thus weaving could become a trade for those who wove on commission or for sale. A coverlet was quite valuable, being equal to two to four cows.

A bed made up as it could have looked in the 1800s and earlier. We have turned some of the blankets to one side to show the “layers” in the bed. When the bed was made up, the topmost layer covered the layers underneath. In this bed, a rya is topmost. The photograph is from a bed in “Moritsstova” from farm nr. 012 Rygg in the Gloppen municipality, now at Nordfjord Museum. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Nordfjord Folk Museum

Types of coverlets

There are many names for the various types of coverlets, depending on whether you consider the technique, how it looks, its use or its pattern. We can simplify things by distinguishing between striped coverlets and square [geometric-patterned] coverlets when thinking of pattern. A striped coverlet has stripes or patterns in stripes crosswise over the entire surface. A square coverlet has patterns built from geometric arrangements of squares. Coverlets have “wandered” in the sense that they have been purchased or brought in from other regions. But there are also, especially in the inner areas, typical coverlets for the different regions. In outer areas there are many different coverlets, because coastal people had more contact up and down the coast. In Nordfjord there are both striped and square coverlets. Striped patterns could be in krokbragd, rosepath or pick and pick techniques, with single-colored fields between. It seems that a striped coverlet with black fields separating rosepath pattern stripes was typical for Nordfjord.

Square, or geometric patterned coverlet. Different cross forms were common in a coverlet. This coverlet has been in use on farm nr. 078, Hunskår in Gloppen municipality. NFM.1979-04085. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

Striped coverlet. The coverlet is sewn together from two lengths. It is woven in the krokbragd technique. Pattern stripes in various colors with dark single-colored stripes between is typical for Nordfjord. NFM.000-03779. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

Rya

Lying beneath a coverlet, or sometimes instead of a coverlet, would often be a rya. A rya is a woven blanket, mostly of wool. The pile is composed of wool yarn or rags that are knotted around the warp threads such that there is a pile layer on one side of the rya. The other side is smooth, most commonly with stripes. Ryas were used instead of, or as the successor to, a sheepskin covering. A rya was easier to clean and handle than a sheepskin, but just as nice and warm. Marie Ryssdal remembers from her childhood in Davik that the rya was a heavy textile. A rya easily lived its own life atop the bed, she remembers, and youngsters had a great time getting the rya to end up on the floor. Typical for Nordfjord were ryas with a pile made of rags. A rya made with a pile of rags is, as one might say, “recycling your grandmother.” The rags show how every single piece of fabric was put to use. Nothing that could be used for something else was thrown away. But the rags in a rya didn’t only come from the household. It is likely that rags for the pile of a rya were also bought in Bergen; on returning from an excursion to the city, men could return home with sacks filled with rags purchased from a tailor.

A rya seen from the “pile side.” Various pieces of fabric are knotted in during weaving to give a pile effect. Ryas with a pile made of a rags, or fabric scraps, are typical for Nordfjord. For finer use, the pile was made from plied wool yarn; for everyday use it was a rag rya, writes Maria Ryssdal in “Soga om Gloppen og Breim.” NFM.0000-02184. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

A rya seen from the side without pile. This side lay facing upward on the bed for everyone to see. The pile side was facing down. NFM.1987-00266. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

From bedcovers “on display” to duvets in private bedrooms

We don’t know how old this manner of preparing a bed is, but it remained for a long time in the countryside, at any rate on the farms. Around 1900 things began to change. First the rya was enclosed inside a cover, later the bed cover was made of quilted cotton-batting, and finally the bed cover became a duvet filled with down. Changes also occurred in the way people planned and used their homes. As the 1900s progressed, houses were built with more rooms, and especially bedrooms became typical over time. The bedroom was a private area and not a place for visitors. Bed covers went from being “on display” to being more secluded and private.

This is how a bed cover could be hung for storage if it was not in use. People tried to have such a “reserve,” an indication of prosperity. It was also good to have extra bedding, for example for a large gathering when one made up beds for many people. The photograph is from a new building from the farm Ravnestad, farm nr. 013 in Gloppen municipality, now at Nordfjord Folk Museum. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

This article originally appeared in the Kulturhistorisk Leksikon published by the Fylkesarkivet i Sogn og Fjordane, and is reprinted in translation by permission.

Translation by Katherine Larson.

What is Norwegian Weaving? (In a Nutshell)

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By Robbie LaFleur

Are you an admirer of fine folk art craftsmanship?

Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum recently published the third in a series of beautifully-illustrated pamphlets on major types of folk art in their collection: rosemaling, woodcarving, and weaving. They serve as primers for first-time visitors, and show knowledgeable craftspeople the depth and beauty of artifacts owned by the museum. They are also valuable resources for Folk Art School students.

“What is Rosemaling?“

After noted rosemaler Marlys Hammer died, several of her friends donated funds for Vesterheim to create a booklet about Norwegian rose painting. It focuses on describing and distinguishing between regional rosemaling styles. Photos of artifacts from the Vesterheim collection illustrate the text by Judy Ritger and Patty Goke.

With the success of this booklet, the Museum obtained grant funding for two more booklets.

“What is Norwegian Woodcarving?“

Woodcarver Phil Odden describes traditional techniques you might recognize–like wood burning, chip carving, and acanthus carving–and some you might not know, like kolrosing (a delicate incising technique) and kroting (carving into dark-painted wood). The booklet focuses on carved decorative techniques, and the illustrations show some different forms created with woodworking (such as bentwood and stave containers).

“What is Norwegian Weaving?“

I was asked to write the weaving booklet, which was a privilege–and a challenge. Hmmm….distill all of Norwegian weaving into several paragraphs in a 10-page booklet. I worked with Curator Laurann Gilbertson, who suggested we focus on coverlet techniques, partly because those techniques are taught in weaving classes at Vesterheim. We brainstormed about which Vesterheim-owned weavings would best represent the several techniques chosen.

Once I was over the hump of “oh my gosh, how will this ever come together,” the entire process went more smoothly than I anticipated. It couldn’t have happened–none of these booklets could have happened–without the expertise and editing of Laurann Gilbertson, and Charlie Langton’s beautiful layouts. Thanks also to Lea Lovelace, head of Vesterheim’s Folk Art School, for her editing; she brought clarity to the text by reading with a non-weaver’s eye.

Print copies of the booklet will be available at the museum. If you would like to print it out, here is a pdf: “What is Norwegian Weaving?,”

We hope to see you at a Vesterheim Folk Art School class soon!

Norwegian Textile Letter

Archives

Migration of a Tradition: Norwegian Folk Dress in America

Originally published in Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition, Marion Nelson, Editor. New York : Abbeville Press, 1995.

Read the essay here: https://norwegiantextileletter.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/colburn.pdf Additional folk costume photos here: https://norwegiantextileletter.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/folk-dress.pdf

See also these articles: Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition (Introduction) and Migration of a Tradition: Tapestry Images.

RETRO REPRINT: For the Loom–Combination Double and Single-Point Krokbragd

Revisiting the Norwegian Textile Letter Volume 1, No. 2, January 1995

Book Review–Hannah Ryggen: Threads of Defiance

Review: Hannah Ryggen: Threads of Defiance,
by Marit Paasche

RETRO REPRINT: The Ruteaklaer Tradition in Norway

Revisiting the Norwegian Textile Letter Volume 1, No. 2, January 1995

Would you like to see more rutevev coverlets?

Here are a few from the virtual galleries of Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum.

The Norwegian Digital Library, digitaltmuseum.no, includes artifacts from many museums in Norway. If you enter “rutevev” in the search box, you can see almost 400 pieces.