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The Red Thread: A Monumental Tapestry by Else Marie Jakobsen

Excerpted by the book Levd Liv, Vevd Liv (Woven Life) by Janne Leithe.

Translated by Robbie LaFleur.

Translator’s note:  A two-story-high tapestry, “The Red Thread” by Else Marie Jakobsen, hangs in the Science Building at the University of Bergen. Weavers will no doubt want to peer closely at the surface, and examine the thick warp threads weighted at the bottom with small stones. You should! I’ve managed to set off the alarm both times I visited this monumental tapestry, by getting too close. 

Else Marie Jakobsen was born in 1927, lived in Kristiansand, and died in 2012. Luckily, author Janne Leithe was able to interview Jakobsen extensively near the end of her life, allowing us to know a great deal about her thoughts behind many of her tapestries. This excerpt is used with permission. 

The Science Building at the University of Bergen (Realsfagbygget), built in concrete in 1977, was designed by architect Harald Ramm Østgaard.  The architectural style was called brutalism because the use of unfinished concrete gives a massive and brutal effect. Jacobsen won a closed competition for the decoration of the vestibule in the science building with her piece “Den Røde Tråd” (The Red Thread).  She always embraced the context and took it into consideration when designing her sketches. In the 1970s the sciences were a masculine and technical milieu. She felt that the masculine-dominated environment needed something soft, warm, and earthy. She chose to give women and women’s work a central place, and chose tapestry as her point of departure; to paraphrase, women who are woven and women who weave. In the huge tapestry there are repeated references to the unknown and little-known weavers who were overlooked and undervalued in their time. She created a collage of various motifs from various eras, divided in three sections. These are taken from the Middle Ages and in the years up to her own time. Else Marie Jakobsen used “The Red Thread” to create and draw a picture of all the women who have been important transmitters of our history through their work at the loom. 

The challenge of this project was working with the very prominent ramp that winds up three stories in the massive building. The ramp dominates the entrance, and Else Marie Jakobsen had a gray granite wall at her disposal, circled with steel and concrete. The wall that “The Red Thread” would inhabit had marked divisions, a problem Jacobsen solved by creating the tapestry in three sections, each six meters high and four meters wide.  

It’s difficult to get a photo of the entire piece. Jan Mostrom standing on the ramp gives an idea of the scale. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

She used the ramp’s zig-zag form as inspiration and let the form of the tapestry create a fishnet pattern.  The dominant ramp prevents the public from seeing the tapestry in its entirety; therefore, she chose fragments of art and textile history that can be read independently. The tapestry can be read in this way, whether or not the viewers understand its entirety or have previous knowledge.  Those in the art world will recognize motifs, and others will see glimpses of an important and partially hidden textile art history. According to Hjørdis Danbolt, the unwoven sections of warp (devoid of motifs) are important indicators of the parts of textile art history and tapestry history that are missing. That history is fragmented, as depicted in “The Red Thread.” Here the viewers themselves must participate and contribute to bring out The Red Thread’s unwritten and unwoven history. 

The fragments are assembled in a collage of varying styles and expression in the fishnet pattern.  To unify the tapestry and at the same time show a clear message, she brought it together with a distinct color palette. Red and pink are dominant, contrasted with black, gray, blue, and white.  The cotton warp was dyed gray, and natural-colored linen was used. This work required a great deal of planning. 250 kilos of yarn was wound and dyed. The Red Thread used handspun spelsau wool, silk, nylon, and clipped lengths of seine twine for variation in the surface. Tightly woven sections of the fishnet pattern mixed with unwoven areas of warp. To get the weaving to hang in place, Jakobsen chose stones with holes in the middle, tied at the bottom of the warp. She picked the stones herself on the beaches in Møns Klint in Denmark. 

“…Here there is not only tradition, but also a renewal. What a brilliant idea has been carried out,” wrote the historian Hjørdis Danbolt in her report on “The Red Thread” in Bergens Tidende on June 17, 1982.  She meant that the ingenious thing Jakobsen had done was to weave the history of the forgotten women, and that the history was finally told. Textile history had been visually depicted, and strategically placed in a public setting. The history could have been placed on a dusty bookshelf, but it was now visible to hundreds of people. The unknown weavers finally found a place in history through Jakobsen’s commitment and creation. 

In the first tapestry Else Marie Jakobsen began by showing the women who wove images of men from Viking times, the Middle Ages, and up to 1650. War, weapons, and men on horses were repeated images. Stories from the early Middle Ages were depicted on meters-long pieces, made with both embroidery and tapestry. Jakobsen chose motifs from 800-1700, including the Baldisholteppet, dated from around 1150. The section she chose of that tapestry, found in 1879, shows a rider in armor and a man with a crown, possibly a king.

She also chose motifs from traditional woven coverlets (åkletepper), generally abstract and geometric patterns.

This section echos rutevev, or square weave coverlets.

In the lower right corner is a “virgin” from the Wise and Foolish Virgins tapestries, which Jakobsen also referenced in another of her tapestries, “Elsk din Neste.”

She finished the tapestry with the initials of the unknown weaver. By writing them down, she gives identity to the anonymous. Other well-known textiles she references are the weavings from the Oseberg Viking ship, found in 1903. The weaving fragments are from a pictorial frieze and dated around 820, among the oldest found in Norway. She also used these as inspiration the following year when she wove “Fortidsminner” (Historical Memories) for Sen Rådhus (City Hall) in Tønsberg. Jacobsen also used a motif from the Sandsvaer antipendium from 1625, showing Christ’s crucifixion. 

Christ on the cross, from the Sandsvaer antipendium

In the center section she weaves motifs taken from the artists Hannah Ryggen and Frida Hansen. She admired them both greatly, and they served as sources of inspiration. In these thirty square meters, she praises her sources.

She also took a small detail from Gerhard Munthe. He painted cartoons for tapestries, for which he was best known in his time. But Munthe didn’t have the same connection with the materials of tapestry, as he had others weave for him. Jacobsen said that this could be noted in his tapestries, that they were a bit stiff in character.

Frida Hansen (1855-1931) was best known for her Art Nouveau style.  She received a gold medal for her tapestry “Melkeveien,” (Milky Way) in Paris in 1900, the highest honor an artist could receive at that time. Still, Hansen had problems being accepted as an artist in her own country, at that time or afterwards. Much of this had to do with the wave of National Romantic sentiment in Norway at the turn of the century. Norwegian critics felt that her style was too European. Frida Hansen’s work was primarily acquired by applied art museums in Central Europe, where her work was more right for the times. Wild roses and stylized flowers are characteristic of her tapestries. Jacobsen used her characteristic motifs and flowers in a collage-like manner. She also includes details from Hansen’s works, “Flyvende Villender” (Flying Wild Geese) and “Juni” (June), curtains in transparency technique from 1918. Hansen developed a transparency technique, in which she left portions of the warp threads unwoven. In “The Red Thread,” Jakobsen was directly inspired by that technique. 

A clear homage to Frida Hansen

Hannah Ryggen (1894-1970) was the artist for whom Else Marie Jakobsen had the most admiration and respect.  Hannah Ryggen was Swedish but settled in Ørland in Trøndelag with her Norwegian husband, Hans Ryggen. She was revolutionary in that she changed tapestry weaving from the creation of decorative textiles to a form of art. She is best known for her political images, especially those critical of Nazism and facism.  As the first artist to have a tapestry accepted for the Høstutstilling, (The Fall Exhibition, a prominent annual Norwegian exhibit), in 1964, she paved the way for textile art and tapestry.  In the same year she was Norway’s first female artist in the Venice Biennial, one of the word’s most important annual exhibitions. In 2012 several of her tapestries were included in Dokumenta, which is held every five years in Kassel, Germany. Hannah Ryggen’s art has had a renaissance in contemporary art. She donated several of her tapestries to the Nordenfjeldske Kunstindustrimuseum in Trondheim, where they are a part of the permanent exhibit. Jacobsen chose details from “Mors Hjerte” (Mother’s Heart), which depicts a mother’s concern for her sick child, and “Kaj Munk,” which is a homage to the poet and priest Kaj Munk, who was killed by Nazis. She also chose details from the tapestry “Karsten i Vevehimmelen” (Karsten in Weaving Heaven). Ryggen was a great admirer of the painter Ludvig Karsten. To finish Else Marie Jakobsen “signed” Frida Hansen’s and Hannah Ryggen’s signatures clearly where she repeated their motifs. 

Left: Else Marie Jakobsen paid homage to Hannah Ryggen’s tapestry, “Mor’s Hjerte” (Mother’s heart). Right: A detail of Ryggen’s “Mor’s Hjerte.”

The last section is in praise and recognition of her own weaving colleagues. She chose a dozen artists from her own time who are reproduced in the final 30 square meters. Jakobsen reproduced a motif from each of the artists, and wove in their initials so that it is easier to recognize them. She began with Synnove Anker Aurdal, who was a leader in Norwegian abstract art.

Synnøve Aurdal’s initials are at the top left.

She also chose motifs from the artists Elise Jakkheln (EJ), Brit Fuglevaag (BF), Ann Sønju (US), Ingunn Skogholt (IS), Kjellaug Hølaas (KH), Nina Gjestland (NG), Eli Marie Johnsen (EMJ), Eli Nordbø (EN), Karin Sunday (KS), Sidsel Karlsen (SK), Bodil Cappelen (BC), Tove Pedersen (TP), Inger Johanne Brauteset (IJB), and herself. She displays them chronologically—the eldest reference to the left—and finished with her close colleague Eli Nordbø. Nordbø was Jakobsens assistant in weaving “The Red Thread.” It took two years, with assistants, to complete Norway’s largest tapestry. 

Jakobsen’s assistant, Eli Nordbø, is commemorated on the lower right hand side of the final panel.

More Handmade Underwear: From Norway to the Dakotas to Vesterheim

Editor’s Note: The article about historical underwear reminded me of another set of Norwegian underwear I’ve seen. The Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum owns a pristine set of handwoven long underwear, by way of a Norwegian mother concerned about cold Midwestern winters. Robbie LaFleur

Vesterheim Curator Laurann Gilbertson wrote:

The long underwear belonged to Nikolai Knudson Farestveit (1899-1980) of Modalen, Hordaland, Norway. His brother Knut was the first in family to come to the U.S., and farmed in western North Dakota. Nikolai (Nick) worked in an orphanage in Norway and heard that Knut had done well, so he immigrated in 1923. He worked as a farm hand near Beresford, South Dakota, then as a finish carpenter in Grand Forks and Northwood, North Dakota. Nick’s mother, Anna Helland Farestveit, made the long underwear for him to pack in 1923. She carded and spun the wool, wove the fabric, and sewed the garments. According to Nick’s daughter, he could not tolerate wool next to his skin, so the long underwear are barely worn. (Gift of Carl and Arlene Farestvedt Evanson, Vesterheim – 2010.026.001)

Inspired by the Baldishol Tapestry

The previous issue of The Norwegian Textile Letter included articles on the Baldishol Tapestry and a Call for Art for the exhibit of Baldishol-inspired textile works to be held at Norway House in Minneapolis, Minnesota, beginning in June, 2020. 

The Baldishol: A Medieval Norwegian Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles

 June 26-August 30, 2020
Norway House, Minneapolis, Minnesota
Opening Party: Friday, June 26, 2020, 5-8 pm 

There is Still Room for Your Creativity

The response to the Call for Art has been outstanding; nearly 20 entries have been accepted–from the U.S., Canada, and England so far–all with thoughtful interpretation based on the theme, design elements, colors, or technique of the original.  

Consider creating a piece for this show; space is available for up to 35 Baldishol-inspired works. Registration is open until December, or until the space if filled. 

A Few Examples of Work Underway

Garment-maker and Quilter Laurie Bushbaum is creating an appliquéd and quilted coat inspired by the April man, a seed bearer. Look for transformed vines and flowers from the Baldishol Tapestry, medieval text, and even pockets to bear future seeds. Deborah Lawson was also inspired by the tunic of the April man, and will be re-creating his bell-sleeved tunic in hand-woven silk, with tablet-woven edges in a design that echos the border of the Baldishol Tapestry. She wrote, “I am attempting to replicate the feel of the original tunic while using modern sensibilities to expand on it.”   

Deborah Lawson has started dyeing silk for her Baldishol exhibit piece

Do you see the spots on the Baldishol horse?  They will appear again on wide stripes in shades of indigo in a wool rug by Jan Mostrom, and on a thick pile rya by Katherine Buenger. 

Melanie Groves was intrigued by the calendar aspect, and will create a 3-dimensional felted panel for another month: Sólmánuður (sun month), the third month of summer in the old Norse calendar. It will include a Viking longboat, a solar image, and a tessellation of fish. Lisa Bauch will represent the months of April and May from the Baldishol Tapestry with two long, narrow rugs (16” x 9’). Their abstract designs will be based on the color relationships in the original tapestry. 

Medieval techniques and materials are integral to many pieces. Kelsey Skodje’s embroidery on linen will include floss spun with a medieval-style drop spindle.

A wide range of textile techniques are represented, including fabric block-printed designs using botanical inks and dyes  by Amy Axen, and mixed media textile collage by Amy Ropple. 

Appropriate to an exhibit honoring the Baldishol Tapestry, several tapestries will be featured. Vladimira Fillion-Wackenreuther is using traditional Norwegian billedvev (tapestry) technique, design, yarn, and colors for her tapestry. See this clever concept sketch of the men and their costumes in “Dress Me Up.  

Lindsey Marshall designed a tapestry banner after learning that the Baldishol fragment may have been part of a long frieze. In her concept sketch, the wings at the end reference the Baldishol birds.

The Baldishol Tapestry is a physical embodiment of a past time. Sally Reckert will weave with Scandinavian rare breed wool warp and weft using Norwegian tapestry techniques in an image that brings the Baldishol to today. The horse, birds, and standing person from the Baldishol are joined by children marching behind the horse for action on climate change. Mark your calendar–you’ll want to see her sketch turned into a timeless tapestry. 

More information: Call for Art 

For inspiration, see these articles in the Norwegian Textile Letter “Baldisholteppe: A Treasure from the Middle Ages;” “The Baldishol Tapestry in the White House,” which originally appeared in the Kulturhistorisk Leksikon (Cultural History Encyclopedia), published by Fylkesarkivet i Sogn og Fjordane (the County Archives of Sogn and Fjordane); and “The Baldishol Tapestry–The White House Replica and Others.”

Nordic Weaving Network

A new group has emerged for those who follow weaving in the Nordic countries.  The Nordic Weaving Network was established in February 2018, initially by Danish and Swedish weavers and researchers. Anyone can be a member, and through an active Facebook group you can follow weaving activities in the Nordic countries (plus Nordic weaving activities in the U.S.).

When American weavers hear “Scandinavian weaving” or “Nordic weaving,” they might think about historical coverlets with regional differences, like Norwegian skillbragd or Swedish opphämta weaving. Or Sami woven bands from the north of Scandinavia. They might think about a simple, graphic båtrye (a boat rya) from the West coast of Norway or a 20th century art rijuy from Finland. But an overall Nordic definition of weaving? To Americans in general, that might conjure an image of clean lines, a mid-century modern feeling.

It’s safe to say that most people in the Nordic countries are familiar with weaving traditions in their own countries, but don’t think about a group identity as Nordic weavers.  The Nordic Weaving Network hopes to spark conversation and discussion about this concept of Scandinavian or Nordic weaving, with members who are interested in historical research and contemporary weaving. They hope to build relationships, encourage research, and promote weaving generally among the countries.

Follow along with the conversation by joining the Nordic Weaving Network Facebook group.  New members are encouraged to post about their connection to Nordic weaving.  There have been many links to exhibits and conferences. Whether your interests are in historical textiles or the latest contemporary weaving in Nordic countries, this is a great resource. 

Origins and Ongoing Work of the Nordic Weaving Network

In June, 2018, Vævernes Hus i Denmark arranged an international seminar entitled “Scandinavian Weaving” where 25 participants from 8 different countries came together, partially funded by the Nordisk Kulturfond. It was there that the Network was conceived, a steering group was formed, and future goals and initiatives were planned. A report to the Nordisk Kulturfond on the seminar was approved in October 2018.

In 2018 the steering group worked on expanding the network, and many organizations, schools, and workplaces now support the Network. 

An important goal of the Network has been to establish leadership representing the five Nordic countries.  Currently, the steering group includes: 

Annelie Holmberg, Textile Studie, Uppsala University, Sweden

Arianna Funk, Textile artist at Studio Supersju, Sweden

Gitte Karlshøj, Weaver and Designer at Vævernes Hus, Denmark

Kikka Jelisejeff, Development Manager for Taito, the Finnish Crafts Association, Finland

Merethe Stavnsbjerg, Board-member of Vævekredsene i DK, Denmark

Ragga Thorsdottir (or Ragnheiður Björk Þórsdóttir), Textile Artist at the Icelandic Textile Center in Blönduós, Iceland

Åse Eriksen, Textile Designer at Nordic Textile Art, Norske Tekstilkunstnere and
Norske Kunsthåndverkere, Norway

Tove Engelhardt Mathiassen, museum curator of historical dress and textiles at Den Gamle By in Aarhus, Denmark, is administrator of the Nordic Weaving Network Facebook group .

This triptych by Anne Marie Pedersen is currently the featured image on the Facebook page. Steering committee member Gitte Karlshøj wrote about it Pedersen, “She is a brilliant weaver and a wonderful person. I have never seen anything like her tapestry made in the technique of “Rosengang”. It demands lots of patiense, brainwork and creavity. Anne Marie Pedersen is a member of  Weavers in West Zealand (Vævere i Vestsjælland) and the House of Weavers (Vævernes Hus). Here we are were proud of her and appreciate her skills very much.”

 

 

By Robbie LaFleur

Note: Read to the end for a special offer for readers of the Norwegian Textile Letter.

In the 25th year of The Norwegian Textile Letter, interest in traditional and contemporary Norwegian textiles is strong.  Sweater designer Cynthia Atley Peterson has taken her inspiration from Norwegian skilbragd and doubleweave åklær to design unique sweaters, hats, and mittens. 

People who see the sweaters designed by Cynthia Atley Peterson are no doubt impressed with their beauty, and probably recognize a Scandinavian flair to the designs.  But for weavers familiar with Norwegian weaving techniques…how impressive and intriguing! Two designs in particular take designs from the loom to needles. 

Double-weave coverlets—Off the Bed 

Berit Olsdatter Hilmo, born in 1764 in Tydal, Sør-Trøndelag, was a noted and prolific weaver of doubleweave coverlets. She wove around 500 in all, with intricate patterning woven in a very slow technique. She numbered them and often added the initials of the recipients. Many pieces are in museums. This piece is from the Norsk Folkemuseum, NF.1910-0433.

While researching doubleweave patterns, Cynthia became acquainted with a contemporary weaver in Norway who is weaving in the Berit Hilmo tradition, Berta Stive Lid. This is Stive Lid’s weaving: 

Cynthia was intrigued by the symbols, including hearts for love, branches for life and death, pelicans for Christian charity, and of course, the eight-petaled rose found in so many Scandinavian textiles, for protection. This is the first page of her very thorough and descriptive instructions for her “Double Heart” pattern. 

Purchase the pattern here

Across Norway Sweater

Traditional Norwegian skillbragd patterns unfold with knitting needles, not shuttles, in Cynthia Atley Peterson’s Across Norway sweater. 

Cynthia was inspired by a now out-of-print book, Åklær (Coverlets), by Anne Grete Sandstad. She combined patterns from many regions, including Kystlinja i Sør Trøndelag, Tydalen, Røros, Orkladalføret, Oppdal, and Selbu. She wrote, “Each vertical band in the sweater is from a different area of Norway, all the way around. It is like making a cable sweater and when you learn a band and can recognize where you are it is actually easy!”

Purchase the pattern here

The Roots of Norsk Needlework

Cynthia Atley Peterson grew up in a Norwegian-American family in Minnesota and was drawn to Norwegian folk art. Her mother made Scandinavian-like sweaters in pieces, knitting back and forth, purling on the back, and twisting the colors. Cynthia learned to knit from her mother when she was five, but it wasn’t until she moved to Europe as a young woman and met a Norwegian girl that she learned to more efficiently knit in the round. “It was home free from there,” Cynthia said, “It cut the time from months to weeks for a sweater.”

Cynthia has deep knitting roots throughout her career.  At one point she owned a yarn shop and taught Norwegian knitting and embroidery. She now  sells her knitting designs through her website of the same name, Norsk Needlework.  It was only five years ago that she began to weave, too. She bought a Glimåkra loom from a friend, and received instruction and support through the Central Oregon Spinners and Weavers Guild in Redmond, Oregon. 

She passed on her textile genes to her daughter, Tracy Horner, an embroidery designer who sells her patterns through her website, Ink Circles. You can find three of Cynthia’s Scandinavian designs there, too. This one is “Fjord Ponies.” 

You can knit the wonderful ponies, too, with her “Wild Blue Horses” pattern. And, as a special gift to Norwegian Textile Letter readers, you can contact her for a free download of the “Wild Blue Horses” mittens. 

 

Recently Cynthia relocated to Washoe Valley, Nevada, and has a goal—to weave, rather than knit, her next skillbragd.  

 

Contact Cynthia Atley Peterson:
cindy@norskneedlework.com
18200 Lake Vista Rd, Washoe Valley, Nevada 89704
Web: http://www.norskneedlework.com
Blog: http://norskneedlework.blogspot.com 
Ravelry name: cwoz

 

Underpants History

By Ingrid Berger

What did people wear next to their skin here in Nordfjord in the 1800s and earlier?  What were the common customs?  In pictures, drawings and descriptions from the 1800s, it is most often the outer clothing that we learn about.  It is also the visible clothing that is most researched and described in writing.

Sparse information

There is a good deal of underwear in the collection of Nordfjord Folk Museum (NMF), but the cultural history that surrounds these items is more difficult to determine.  Naturally, perhaps.  But information does exist, for example in the folk-life observations of Eilert Sundt, who travelled around Norway’s rural communities in the 1800s gathering information about how the “common people” lived.  In his book Om renligheds-stellet i Norge [On Cleanliness in Norway], there is much to read about the subject.

Underpants – a new invention

And, brace yourself, underwear was simply not common in the countryside before the middle of the 1800s!  This applied to both women and men.  Among other things, Sundt reported that in a rural community in our county there was a “tauskone” [old maid] who first began to use underwear sometime around 1830, and that “hun blev riktignok hedende Brok-Kari for det samme, ja, da en mand siden fulgte exemplet, fik han også samme navn” [she was, in fact, called Underpants-Kari for that; and yes, when a man later followed her example, he got the same name].  It was so unusual to use underpants at that time that one received a nickname for doing so.

A woman of today would not go without underpants under her skirt, even if the skirt was ever so long.  It would most certainly clash with her understanding of what was seemly.  But early in the 1800s it was completely the opposite: it was unseemly for a woman to wear underpants under her skirt!

An example of knitted women’s underpants in wool from Gloppen.  The length is 69 cm. The underpants are grey-blue and likely machine-knit.  There is a decorative, crocheted portion inset on one side of each leg, and uppermost on one side.  There is a crocheted edge at the waist to thread an elastic cord through.  There is a gusset in the crotch.  A patch of cotton fabric is sewn onto the inside of the back.  Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – Dated: 2006 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum.

Airy women’s underpants

Remarkable for us today is also the fact that women’s underpants could be open in the crotch.  Such underpants were called open pants.  Open pants had two legs that were only held together at the waist and that were not sewn together in the crotch.  Women today would consider such open pants to be highly risqué, but such was not the case for women 150 years ago.  That which is considered seemly has completely reversed on this point.

But why didn’t they use underpants in the early 1800s?  Looking at some practical conditions at the time may not give the entire explanation, but it can make that convention more understandable.

An example of women’s underpants in white cotton from Gloppen.  From the waist down, the length is 71 cm.  The pants have some small tucks in the waist and waistband that were wider in the middle front such that they go down into a point.  There is an opening in the sides that can be tied together with cord and a gusset sewn in the crotch.  Both machine- and hand-sewing have been used.  Sewn to the bottom edge of the legs is some “bought lace” with a hole pattern. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – Dated: 2006 – photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum.

The skirt as a private toilet

The toilet rarely existed as a private room at that time.  The toilet was usually communal, or people did their “business” outside.  When women would “relieve themselves”, they could simply go a little way from others, stand upright with a slight curve in their back, slightly bend their knees, and hold their skirt a little out from themselves. Women could thus, rather unseen, take care of their “business.”  This usually happened in fixed places.  It goes without saying that for this errand, it would not be practical to have underpants, or have pants that were sewn together in the crotch, when the alternative was to draw up your skirt, pull down your underpants and squat.  Seen in this light, one can understand that it was, in fact, quite seemly to go without underpants, or to have them open in the crotch.

To save cloth and work

We can also gain an understanding of “underpants resistance” when we realize that fabric and yarn for the production of cloth was much more highly valued by people in the 1800s than it is by us today.  A finished piece of clothing was the result of a long process.  Cloth of wool, hemp and linen had traveled a long way from raw fibers to finished cloth, and by way of people’s own hands.  Nothing was in abundance.  Regular people in rural Norway had very little, which meant that one managed with the little one had.  Seen in this light, one can understand that underwear was an unnecessary luxury.

How to keep warm

How did they keep warm, especially in wintertime, without underpants?  Long upper garments of wool were usual during winter for both women and men.  These were long, preferably extending down a little over the thighs.  In this way the body below the waist was kept warm.  Men had pants and women had wool skirts and wool underskirts, and both men and women had wool stockings.

For women it must have still been drafty and cold under their skirts during the cold winters. Sundt confirms this when he writes that various abdominal complaints were a frequent problem with women.  Eventually recommendations were forthcoming from the health authorities to use underpants.  For women’s health, the absence of underpants was not good.

An example of rib-knit (1 knit, 1 purl) long wool underpants from a woman from Eid. The length is 90 cm from the waistband down.  It is likely machine-knit. A two-ply wool yarn was used, and there is a crocheted edge uppermost to thread an elastic cord through.  At the bottom of each leg is a knitted ribbed portion (2 knit, 2 purl).  A knitted gusset is sewn into the crotch.  Probably men’s and women’s versions of this type were not particularly distinctive.
Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – Dated: 2006 – photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum.

Materials and technique

When underpants eventually came into use, they were first hand sewn from woven wool cloth.  Knitted undergarments from wool yarn came into use around the mid 1800s, first as knitted undershirts, then as knitted underpants.  When the knitting machine came into use, knitted underpants became the rule.

In the beginning, women preferably went pants-less under their skirts during the summer, but used wool underpants during the winter.  Eventually, as cotton became common, they used wool and cotton alternately, depending on the season.  In a reminiscence from Gloppen, the underwear of an older women born in 1838 was described.  This woman used a wool undershirt nearest the skin, had gathered wool underskirts in tabby and underpants of wadmal during the winter, and home woven cotton twill during the summer.  As described, these were sturdy clothes, in the shape of “half pants” of the knickers type.  These were garments elderly women used in the beginning of the 1900s.

“Despite the prejudice against it”

It is possible that the more widespread use of underpants may be associated with the more common use of cotton from about the middle of the 1800s.  One could buy yarn and weave the cloth oneself, or buy ready-made fabric, although the latter was likely a luxury in the beginning.  One could also buy cotton and spin it at home.

Eilert Sundt believed, in any case, that there was great benefit with the appearance of cotton tabby cloth: “Ikke alene til skjorter og særker, men også til underbukser – et plag som i det sidste halvhundrede år har holdt på at komme i brug selv blandt almuekvinderne, trods den fordom, som var i veien” [Not only for shirts and shifts, but also for underpants – a garment that in the last half century has been coming into use, even among rural women, despite the prejudice against it].

Mostly unused underwear

Most of the underwear in the museum appears to be unused, and perhaps the explanation is that they were so old-fashioned during the time they were produced that they were left unworn? As a rule, underwear was not taken care of for posterity.  For the most part, it is finer clothes that we have left from our ancestors.  Underwear was “used up.”  For example, we have no open underpants in the collection, so if anyone has some in a closet, please contact the museum (Nordfjord Folk Musuem).  

An example of a woman’s knitted wool undershirt.  The length is 73 cm.  Note that the undershirt is very long, such that it will reach well below the abdomen. The undershirt is knitted in ribbing (1 knit, 1 purl) of thin wool yarn and it is relatively light and soft.  It’s likely that the body is machine-knit, while the sleeves could be knitted by hand.  The sleeves are sewn on with gussets that are knitted in two rounds.  There is a crocheted picot edge in the neck. The sleeves have ribbing (2 knit, 2 purl). The shape of knitted wool undershirts seems to have been fairly similar for women and men, and there is not much variation in their construction.  Women’s undershirts can be somewhat more decorated, for example with a crocheted picot edge, and they usually have short sleeves or no sleeves, while the men’s undershirts have long sleeves. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – Dated: 2006 – photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum.

Sources:

Frykmann, Jonas: Den kultiverade människan. Gleerups, Kristianstad. 1979.
Ryssdal, Marie: Husflid og handarbeid i tida ca.1850-1940. Særtrykk av Soga om Gloppen og Breim. Sandane. 1979.
Sundt Eilert: Om renligheds-stellet i Norge. Gyldendal Norsk forlag, Gjøvik 1975.
Riddervold, Astrid: – Og hva hadde de så under -? Undertøy i Norge 1860-1930. I Dugnad ¾. Novus forlag, Oslo 1987.

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 and Marta Kløve Juuhl

New Birds Sighted on Minnesota’s North Shore–Felted Ones

By Mary Reichert

Karen Flatøy Svarstad’s North House workshop in February 2019, Felting Exploration: Sculptural Felting, was a look into both flat and sculptural forms of felt-making. Karin is well known for her elegantly sculpted bird forms, as well as the strength and quality of her finished felt.   

Attentive workshop students

She began class with what seemed to be a straightforward task–making strong, square pieces of felt.  It is no easy task making felt that is even, well fulled, and with straight edges (no cutting allowed!) Our aim with this piece was to create layers of different colors so we could then cut designs into the felt.  

Student felting

One of her gifts as an instructor is her in depth understanding of how to work with different types of wool. She said if you look at the sheep and how they behave, their wool will behave quite similarly. Those who wander, jump, and play in the hills have a wandering wool (like the Old Norse Sheep), and Merino wool will stay put while felting.

This combination of wandering wool and non-wandering wool made a very dense and strong piece of felt we could cut and then reveal the colors underneath.

The sculptural portion of class focused on creating small song and shore birds.  Many of the birds became a cross between a seal and a song bird as we attempted to create a strong core of leftover bits of wool which was then layered with batting into the general bird shape. 

Student work–birds emerge!

Karin’s visit brought awareness to the details of making felt, as well as raising good questions about our own local economies in support of wool. Are we doing enough to help sustain the land, sheep, and farmers who make it possible to do all the spinning, weaving, sewing, knitting, and felting that we love?  

One of my biggest takeaways in Karin’s class was the world of fleece is incredibly varied, and it’s well worth experimenting to discover the possibilities.  The flat-felt we made was very dense, but not just from extended fulling.  Karin has mastered the ability to pick and choose different types of wool to blend, depending on the project and her desired outcome.   This way she can guide the strength, flexibility, and finish of the piece.  She taught me that I still have much to learn about the qualities of individual fleeces and how to blend them to create just the right wool for the project.

Karen Flatøy Svarstad’s felt-sculpted birds

If you would like more information about Karin’s work, you can find Gallery Frøya and the North Atlantic Native Sheep and Wool Conference on Facebook.

The SommerAkademiet is on the web at www.sommerakademiet.com 

Karin’s website: www.karinflatoysvarstad.com

Author bio: My grandmother was a weaver, spinner and lace-maker and inheriting a loom of hers with a half-done project is what led me onto the path of fiber arts.  In 2005, I began to work for a couple of small sheep and fiber farms where I learned to weave, spin and felt. I am now a full-time felt-maker, inspired especially from the felt culture of Central Asia where there is such elegance and attention to detail on everyday items like bags, blankets and rugs. It makes daily life into the work of art. I have now traveled to Kyrgyzstan three times to study felt-making, with particular focus on rugs.  My most recent trip I learned the traditional art of making shyrdaks. I am currently working on three large community felted rug projects (Grand Rapids, Duluth, and Grand Marais) and when I’m not traveling and teaching, I work out of my home studio in Grand Marais, MN.

Book Review: “Tablet-weaving—in True Nordic Fashion” by Sonja Berlin

By Helen Scherer

Discovering a 2017 English-language copy of Sonja Berlin’s Tablet-weaving—in True Nordic Fashion at the Eugene Textile Center was a delight; it was exactly what I wanted for quickly and easily learning about the tablet-weaving tradition in Norway and the other Nordic countries.

The first seventeen pages outline the history of tablet-weaving in each country: Denmark, Norway, Iceland, Finland and Sweden. In the section on Norway, Sonja mentions the use of warp-weighted looms as early as the 3rd-4th centuries as well as the tablets found in the Oseberg grave from the 830s. She highlights the distinctive Telemark Bands, which are used as belts and hair bands with Telemark bunads, and even provides a weaving pattern for “Belt Band Nr 1971-575, from East Telemark”.

The weaving instructions on pages 37-89 are very concise and easy to follow. Pages 90-92 provide instructions for tutoring children using smaller tablets.

Although the equipment list calls for a back strap loom, I chose to use my LeClerc Cendrel Inkle Loom with all but three pegs removed for my first attempt, knowing that I would have to jump up for every beep, bell, ring and buzzer in the house. Since tablet rotation causes the yarn behind the tablets to twist together, it is necessary to use a loom that can hold a long warp between sturdy pegs or beams, and since the warp can tighten or loosen as weaving progresses, the loom must offer a simple mechanism for adjusting the warp tension.

I purchased both wooden tablets and cards, but chose to learn with the cards, since their holes were labeled A, B, C and D.

For my first warp, I didn’t want to waste any of my precious stash of 6/2 Rauma Spaelsau Prydvevgarn, so I used 3/2 cotton thrums left over from weaving a color gamp blanket. Therefore, I had to use several different greens and several different reds for the two-color sampler that demonstrated “Five Pattern Variations”.

The resulting band was not bad. Even though the “stocking stitch” seemed to create itself evenly without fussing too much over how snug to pull the weft and how hard to beat it, it became evident that keeping a fairly constant warp tension and weaving consistently was important to avoid creating a snake that looks like it ate a few mice.

The sample bands begin on page 57, each introducing a new concept, such as color patterns, stocking stitch, same direction twining, direction changes, the relief (missed-hole) technique, cabling and double-faced weave. The book has an excellent section on Icelandic double cloth along with patterns for weaving a beautiful alphabet. Sonja also covers the Egyptian diagonal, the prehistoric warp-weighted method, six-holed tablets, brocading and Finnish reins.

The original book, called Brickvävning—så in i Norden in Swedish, was published in 1994 in connection with the Nordic Symposium on Tablet Weaving. The 2017 translation is very good (although the last sentence on page 52 might say: “6. If some holes were missed while threading the tablets, they should be filled now to avoid forming extra crosses in the warp.”) The book is well illustrated, includes a few brilliant color photos, and will be my go-to book for future tablet-weaving lessons. It has certainly diminished my fear of tablet-weaving: It is mesmerizing and not as difficult as it looks.

Helen Scherer first learned about handweaving from her mother, who had been a weaver in Norway during the early 1950s. She enjoys using several different types of looms and is focused on trying a wide variety of traditional Norwegian weaving techniques. Although she enjoys reading instructions from older Norwegian handbooks, she also treasures books in English that offer more clarity.

The Baldishol Tapestry–The White House Replica and Others

By Robbie LaFleur

Hermund Kleppa delved deeply into the story of generous Norwegian-American women who wanted to celebrate their heritage by presenting a replica of the Baldishol Tapestry to Mrs. Calvin Coolidge.  Dream big!–they wanted their gift to hang in the White House, no less. Read this addendum after enjoying “The Baldishol Tapestry in the White House” by Hermund Kleppa.  

The Baldishol Committee was formed following the Norse-American Centennial in 1925, to arrange the gift to Mrs. Coolidge.  The Coolidges had raised the profile of the Centennial with their visit. Those of you who are familiar with the Twin Cities in Minnesota will find it entirely logical that while other states might be represented as a whole, in Minnesota it was necessary to have both a Minneapolis and a St. Paul subcommittee, with the names of the members on each side of the letterhead. 

Records of the Baldishol Committee were given to the Minnesota Historical Society at the Minnesota History Center. (A list of the file contents) The file includes a beautiful hand-penned journal listing the finances; here are two pages of expenses. 

Nearly 5000 Norwegian-American women donated money for the tapestry; some donations were as little as a dollar, a few were in the hundreds. Kristi Sekse Meland was paid $1500 for the replica. Three beautifully bound books listing the donors were made–one for Mrs. Coolidge, one to stay with the tapestry at the White House, and the third for the committee.  The committee copy is at the Minnesota History Center. (The introductory pages are here.) From the forward:

They have felt that no memorial could be more in keeping with the sprit of the centennial than a copy wrought with exquisite care and workmanship of the famous old Baldishol tapestry from the last years of the twelfth century. They have chosen this because it embodies in a form of rare beauty and interest the evidence of the ancient civilization from which they have come and the inheritance they have brought with them into American life. 

Perhaps your relative was among the donors? The full list from the commemorative book is here

After the tapestry was delivered to Minnesota, the Committee arranged for a local viewing and a “splendid program”–for 35 cents.  

Hermund Kleppa wondered whether the translation of Hans Dedekam’s book about the tapestry was delivered to the White House.  When Mrs. Bothne wrote to Mrs. Bryn (wife of the ambassador) on May 19, asking whether Mrs. Coolidge would be able to receive the delegation on June 8, she mentioned the Dedekam book.  Mrs. Bothne asked, “Has Mons Breidvik finished the translation of the French “Resume” which is to be inserted in Hans Dedkam’s [sic] book and will it be in Washington before we arrive?”

I don’t think the Dedekam book or translation was delivered. It isn’t mentioned in the committee records that describe the festive activities around the presentation.  From the Baldishol Committee records: 

Mrs. Bothne and Mrs. Kylle were chosen to present the tapestry on the first anniversary of the centennial, June the 8th, 1926. Madame Bryn held a great reception at the Norwegian legation for these two members of the committee and Mrs. Reque, representing the New York Auxiliary, on June 7th. And on June 8th Madame Bryn gave a luncheon for them to which the wives of Congressmen and Senators of Norwegian descent were invited. Afterwards the whole party was transported to the White House and presented to Mrs. Coolidge by Madame Bryn. Mrs. Bothne then presented the tapestry to Mrs. Coolidge voicing the gratitude of the Norwegian women for her honoring them by her presence at the Centennial celebration. As a gift to her personally she was also given a beautifully bound book containing the names of all those who contributed to the tapestry and also the Centennial gold medal.  A similar book similar to the [one] given to Mrs. Coolidge was given to the White House to be kept together with the tapestry.

It’s sad that the White House Baldishol has remained in storage, but in the summer of 2020 you will have the opportunity to view another copy of the Baldishol Tapestry, also believed to be woven by Kristi Sekse Meland, at Norway House in Minneapolis. This copy, one of three full-sized replicas owned by the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum, will be lent to Norway House as part of the show, The Baldishol: A Medieval Norwegian Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles. 

Replica believed to be woven by Kristi Sekse Meland

At one point Vesterheim Director Marion Nelson thought that the copy owned by Vesterheim was perhaps the one given to the White House, and in 1976 wrote to Den Norske Husfliden (DNH, the Norwegian Handcraft Association).  Synnøve Tidemand responded that the Vesterheim Baldishol was woven by Kristi Sexe Meland for DNH and sold through Husfliden. Vesterheim Curator Laurann Gilbertson said that information fits, because the donor acquired other textiles from Husfliden, some of which were donated to the museum. (See the letter.)

A second copy of the Baldishol Tapestry was woven in Norway and donated by the Baltimore Seamen’s Church when it closed in 1985. 

Replica woven by Maria Mundal

The third Vesterheim replica was woven by Alma Amalie Guttersen of St. Paul, Minnesota, who studied tapestry weaving in Norway and had the yarns dyed there.  Alma was on the planning committee for the Norse-American Centennial in 1925 and was inspired to learn Norwegian weaving after seeing the Baldishol copy that was given to the Coolidges.  Alma was born in 1865 in Trondheim, immigrated to Minnesota in 1866, and died in 1966 in Florida.  

Replica woven by Alma Guttersen

If you would like to see the original tapestry, 2020 will also be the year, when the new Nasjonalmuseet (National Museum) opens in Oslo.  

Almost a century after the Norse-American Centennial and the celebration of the Baldishol tapestry through the White House gift, it’s a good time to look at the history of the tapestry and its inspirational qualities. Mark your calendars for the opening of The Baldishol: A Medieval Norwegian Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles, June 26, 2020.

Thanks to Laurann Gilbertson, Curator at the Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum, for information on the museum’s copies of the Baldishol Tapestry. 

Updated, April 2024

Building a Norwegian Pram and Weaving a Wool Sail

By Martha Brummitt

In the May 1996 issue of the Norwegian Textile Letter, Amy Lightfoot wrote about her experience creating a 100 square meter wool sail, replicating what the Vikings used centuries ago. Inspired by her work and in an attempt to merge my interests in sailing, boatbuilding and weaving, I applied for and received a grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board Folk and Traditional Arts fund to build a Norwegian pram and weave a wool sail. The goals of my project are to practice traditional boatbuilding and sail making methods and to share my project with the public.

Under the mentorship of master boatbuilder, Phil Winger, I began building the clinker-style pram at the Q.arma artist building in Northeast Minneapolis. Using pine, walnut, and douglas fir lumber, about five hundred copper rivets, and several simple hand tools, we constructed an 11’7” boat that was traditionally used in the Norwegian fjords for fishing and hauling heavy loads. This small boat, fit for up to three people when rowing, will be rigged with a wool sail.

Test swatch of vadmel sail fabric

This spring I will weave the sail using single-ply, long staple wool spun from Rach-Al-Paca Farm in Hastings, MN. A total of four sections in twill weave will make up the four-sided sail, weighing about 12-15 pounds. The sail cloth, comprised of warp spun in z-twist and weft spun in s-twist, will be fulled on a fulling table to increase stability and make it more windproof. Other traditional fulling methods include laying the cloth underneath stones in an ocean shore and letting the ebb and flow of the water do the work, or using a stampa, which is a timbered structured powered by a nearby river to evenly “stomp” the fabric. Finally, the sail will be coated in a resin made of pine tar and sheep tallow to keep it wind and waterproof.

Throughout the process of making the sail, I will work under the mentorship of Carol Colburn, who has studied and created vadmel fabric, very similar to the cloth used by Vikings for their sails. The weaving community is also contributing by helping weave parts of the sail at the Weavers Guild of Minnesota.

To follow the progress of this year-long project, you can search “Building a Norwegian pram and weaving a wool sail” on Facebook or e-mail marthabrummitt@gmail.com. Public presentations will occur at North House Folk School, the American Swedish Institute and the Weavers Guild of Minnesota. A full report of the project will appear in the Nov. 2019 issue of the Norwegian Textile Letter.

Martha Brummitt grew up in Milwaukee, WI and was lucky to spend much of her childhood surrounded by craft projects, boats and water. Driven to understand how useful objects are sourced and made, she has tanned hides to sew leather moccasins, harvested trees to create baskets and snowshoes, and processed raw wool into a knitted sweater. Her professional work has included teaching youth how to sail, canoe, waterski and build wooden boats. She currently lives in Minneapolis, MN with her partner and plans to live on a sailboat someday.

This activity is made possible by the voters of Minnesota through a grant from the Minnesota State Arts Board, thanks to a legislative appropriation from the arts and cultural heritage fund.