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A Passionate Pursuit: Scandinavian Weavings from the Collection of Carol Johnson

By Robbie LaFleur 

Visitors to the Weavers Guild of Minnesota through June, 2018, have the opportunity to see a rich tableau of 28 Scandinavian weavings, a tantalizing fraction of the collection of Carol Johnson of Minneapolis. You can expect future exhibits and articles in this publication based on artifacts she owns.  Here’s a taste of the exhibit and an attempt to answer–how did this all come to be?

This skillbragd weaving led Carol Johnson to a lifelong passion for Scandinavian textiles. 

Carol grew up in chilly, damp Seattle, 100% Norwegian by heritage.  A linen and wool skillbragd coverlet kept her warm at night, especially during the fuel-rationed years of World War II. It was sent to her grandmother as a wedding gift in 1911 by Carol’s great-grandmother, Guri Olsdatter Aune.  

“I was a sickly kid,” Carol recalled,” so I had plenty of time to lie in bed and look at the front and the back.”  There always seemed to be a new way to examine the patterns, to see how they shifted from the front to the reverse.  The remaining fragment looks remarkably intact, considering Carol remembers her mother sending it through the wringer washing machine countless times. 

Years later, the coverlet was divided in four, one for each sibling. When Carol’s youngest uncle died, she took his section of the skillbragd back to Norway, where it now hangs in the home of a second cousin in the bedroom of her great-grandmother, a tangible piece of an immigrant family’s history. Carol’s Norwegian relatives were grateful to have the weaving, as most family textiles had been used up and discarded during the war years. 

While Carol has a passion and an eye for Scandinavian textiles, she doesn’t weave herself, claiming that she has bad hand-eye coordination.  “I got a D- in Home Economics, “ she quipped, “This isn’t my thing and I haven’t improved with age.”

With a special place in her heart for Norwegian skillbragd (Swedish opphampta or smalandsvev), it makes sense that Carol’s collection contains several in that technique, including these on display. 

She formerly bought textiles mostly at estate sales and from antique stores and dealers. Time passed, her collection grew, and then it got a real boost with modern technology and eBay, her biggest source in recent years.  When Carol’s husband Darold learned that the title of the Weavers Guild of Minnesota exhibit included, “A Passionate Pursuit,” he immediately added—more like an addiction. Happily, he is an interested supporter of his wife’s textile pursuits.

 

On a special afternoon in March Carol shared many of the items in her collection with the Scandinavian Weavers Study Group. As they sat in amazement at the obvious success of Carol’s eBay sleuthing, one person asked, “What search words did you use?” As a start, Carol suggests Swedish handwoven, Norwegian handwoven, Swedish woven, Norwegian woven. She often searches for Finnish pieces, too, but lately there haven’t been many offered.  

She has found many more Swedish than Norwegian weavings online. Why would that be? It may be that Norway was a smaller country; on the whole, there weren’t as many pieces woven. The economy was difficult in Norway, and it may be that weavings were used and worn out. In contrast, in the rich farming area of Skåne in Sweden, there was a strong tradition of weavings as a sign of wealth and prosperity. Many pieces were made for decorative and seasonal use, and carefully stored for generations. It was common for Swedish girls to have hope chests full of beautiful textiles. Some were used, some were forgotten, and over the years, many ended up at auctions. 

The sheer amount of work in all the pieces in Carol’s collection is difficult to fathom.  Weavers especially appreciate the complexity of many pieces and understand how time-consuming they are to execute. Carol commented that it is sad that she sometimes paid so little for weavings that are beautifully made. Wasn’t there anyone in the weaver’s family who appreciated something as lovely as this Swedish Art Weave piece? 

In general, she has paid less than $100 for her textiles, inexpensive indeed for such fine workmanship and materials. Shipping generally runs $20-50. Occasionally, she has paid more for postage than the weaving itself—for example, when purchasing a small tapestry. “I’ve made a lot of money for the Norwegian and Swedish and American post offices,” she noted. Perhaps that was the case for the smallest tapestry in her collection.  Are they seagulls?  They are sweet.  

Each package that arrives to Carol’s home in south Minneapolis is a marvelous mystery to open.  It’s difficult to gauge the condition of a textile from often inadequate online photos.  Will the colors be faded or vibrant? Sometimes it’s hard to tell.  And sometimes it doesn’t much matter.  This beautiful Swedish Art Weave piece has lovely soft colors, with a silvery-gray band contrasting with blue, red, and light gray dukagång stars. The palette looks intentional. 

 

Turn over the back, however, and you’ll see that the background was originally a deep blue-gray, and the red in the narrow bands has bled. 

Many of the pieces are quite large and were folded to display in the exhibit. We left one Swedish Art Weave piece folded over to show the reverse side on purpose.  You can see the vibrancy of the colors before the piece faded, and admire the exquisite workmanship. 

Some coverlets were so large that they were folded in half and then folded over a wooden rod for display, like this beautiful finely-set monks belt coverlet. 

Carol once bought a Swedish opphampta weaving because of its beautiful red and green star pattern.

When she received it, she found that it was sewn to a more simply woven fabric. 

Carol wondered, why would someone put these two together?  She started to undo the stitching, but stopped when she received the recently translated book, Heirlooms of Skåne: Weaving Techniques by Gunvor Johansson (translated by Birgitta Esselius Peterson, published by Vävstuga Press), because the mystery of the two sides was solved. She realized she shouldn’t take them apart.  The weaving is a carriage cushion, and the backs of cushions were often woven in a simpler three-shaft technique.  They also tended to be woven in the less expensive yarns: brown, yellow, green, and white. Carol’s example has other colors, too, and the patterning is fairly elaborate.  

It all made sense then.  She could see where tassels were sewn in each corner, traditionally added to protect the valuable textile during hard wear.  Johansson wrote in her book about the use of wheat flour and water rubbed into the fabric to prevent the stuffing from leaking through the fabric. Check! Carol noticed a good bit of dust on the interior of the cushion fabric. Oh, and she found a feather, too.

The majority of Carol’s weavings came with no provenance, including no dates.  This exquisitely  woven Swedish double-interlock square-weave tapestry (rölakan) is a favorite of Carol’s, as it includes the date of her birth, 1940. 

This exhibit and the sharing opportunity for the Scandinavian Weavers Study Group covered only a portion of Carol Johnson’s collection. As we look forward to close study and admiration of other pieces in the future, it seems we’ll have to work hard to keep up. Just this week Carol pointed to a deep-hued weaving on a chair by her front door.  “It just came two days ago,” she said.  Also, this is just the beginning of prime eBay season for this sort of weaving, as people in Scandinavia visit outdoor flea markets and find textiles to sell online.  Happy hunting, everyone! 

 

 

Taking a Play to Norway: The Costume Designer’s Story

 By Carol Colburn

Carol Colburn

The Uprooting – Cleng Peerson and the Norwegian Immigration of 1825 is a play written by Vigleik Rosseland about 100 years after the action depicted in the play. The script was translated into English by Kristbjørg Eide, who directed its premier American performance in 2014. The Uprooting was produced by the Nordic Center, Duluth, Minnesota and presented in four venues by Thomas Mannes of Cleng Peerson Farm, Clifton Texas. This article focuses on the experience of taking the production on tour to Norway in June, 2017.

 Since September 2011 the Nordic Center in Duluth has been actively pursuing its mission: to preserve and advance Nordic culture through social, educational, and cultural/arts programs that serve the greater community. One of Nordic Center’s longest running projects has been producing and performing a play about the adventure of the Sloopers.  Slooper is a name that is proudly claimed by thousands of Americans who can trace their roots directly back to a first group of 53 Norwegian immigrants who made the journey in a small sloop from Stavanger, Norway, to New York in 1825.

The story of those original Sloopers’ journey is the subject of a play script discovered among a pile of papers belonging to the playwright’s family in 2012 on the island of Karmøy, Norway. It was translated to English by Nordic Center board member, Kristbjørg Eide.  Since its debut in 2014, the play has been produced four times.  It has grown artistically with each production, adding music, narratives, movement, and dual language elements – as the characters have evolved and grown into distinct personalities.

After performances at the Duluth Entertainment and Convention Center for a Sons of Norway convention, then at the Underground Theater for the Duluth Community, the play went on the road to the Norwegian-American community of Clifton, Texas.  Last summer, 2017, the Nordic Center’s Slooper actors were invited to perform their play in Tysvaer, Norway. (1)

Our core troupe consisted of director, costume designer, six actors, and a musician. (2) I recruited a volunteer costume crew for sewing, and we had additional backstage help for our final week of production in Norway. For most of our development time, we were a small group, so everyone assumed multiple responsibilities along the way. While telling the historical tale of the Sloopers was important to us, as it was to the original author, we also wanted our interpretation to resonate today. Though set nearly 200 years ago, we see how this story of the Sloopers reflects the same decisions and fears faced by groups today as they contemplate such a life-changing journey. Over time the story of the long-ago immigrations to America has made these journeys sound easier and more successful than the actual experience of any individual immigrant. We know that the Sloopers found a very uncertain welcome upon landing in New York harbor. Their first years in America were extremely hard as they first settled in upstate New York, moved on to Illinois, and finally many in the group moved to Texas. A goal of our production team was to tell the story of the difficult decisions that faced these emigrants before their life-changing journey. We asked the question, “Did the emigrants have second thoughts as they left family and friends, community, and homes behind?” 

Our cast members had the experience of sailing away from Stavanger on the North Sea. The scene brought to mind possible second thoughts of the original emigrants. Photo credit: Michael Anderson 

As a Nordic Center project, the production also set a goal to strengthen connections with individuals and organizations in Norway to enhance understanding and appreciation of this history that is shared by Norwegians and Americans alike. Most Norwegians have heard of the Sloopers and their guide and leader, Cleng Peerson. On the other hand, in America, few of those in the Norwegian-American community know this story. Personally, I knew a little about the Sloopers, but I did not know that one of the forces driving this first group of Norwegians from their homeland was religious persecution. Many of the Sloopers were Quakers, which at that time was not tolerated by the state church in Norway. (3)

The costumes for The Uprooting are intended to represent early 19th century rural clothing for men and women, with attention to local conditions affecting their clothing. The Sloopers were from the Rogaland region of rural coastal Norway, where economic times were difficult, especially for farmers. In areas of deep fjords and high mountains, relative isolation further restricted access to changing fashion. Some of the real people on whom the characters in the play are based were farmers and Quakers, which at that time meant their clothing was very functional, unembellished, and made of plain fabrics in subdued colors. Lines in the play describe economic and social hardships Quakers suffered in their communities. Agricultural work on small subsistence farms meant their everyday clothing would show hard wear. Rural clothing of the time was largely made at home. Keeping sheep, spinning, weaving, and sewing were all part of the cycle of work each year. Each garment represented a large investment of both time and materials. 

With these conditions in mind, it is most important for us to tell the story effectively. We concentrated on the human story of what drove the emigrants from their homeland, the real fears they faced, hardships they had to overcome, and what they hoped to find in a new land. The action of the play depicts an important meeting arranged by members of the Quaker community. They invited the well known Cleng Peerson to their home to report on his travels to America, during which he scouted land in New York state for the group to settle. We see two couples from local farms (Hersdals and Rossadals) meeting Cleng Peerson, who arrives with Quaker leader and experienced seaman Lars Geilane. For this significant meeting, guests and hosts would present their best appearance possible. Cleng and Lars’s clothing would show their familiarity with men’s fashions from abroad, while the local people of Tysvaer appeared more parochial. We know that groups like this were meeting throughout the larger Stavanger area. The dialogue at such a meeting was imagined by the playwright, but would have been based on true accounts handed down in families such as the author’s family.

My goal as costume designer was to use costume to evoke the audience’s understanding of the characters. In truth, contemporary interpretation of period dress cannot be accurate in all aspects. We have to interpret what is most important about the clothing and the characters. Costumes also help the actors ‘become’ the real people they are portraying. My research meshed with the actors’ exploration of their roles. Actors contribute personality and a deeper understanding of motivation for each character, which is reflected in costume choices as well.

In my research for making new costume pieces for our production in Norway, I used both historical sources and some sources that were evocative of the time. Historical sources are those that have preserved scraps of information from very close to the time period of 1825: texts, artist renderings, sculpture, and remaining garments.  Evocative sources made by artists later in time interpret the historical story providing reflections on the Sloopers’ characters and events from the perspective of a later date. Contemporary sources are also referenced, such as the tradition of the bunad worn in Rogaland today. A few examples of these types of research follow.

While this play focuses on the Sloopers in the months before their voyage, the descendants of those Sloopers have preserved the story of their voyage and their arrival in America. Included in a book published by those family members is a quote from a New York City newspaper reporting on the day the immigrants arrived on the dock in the harbor. In wonderful serendipity for me, observations made by the reporter included a description of clothing, while also expressing the excitement of watching the Sloopers disembark.

“A vessel has arrived at this port with emigrants from Norway. . . .The appearance of such a party of strangers, coming from so distant a country and in a vessel of a size apparently ill calculated for a voyage across the Atlantic, could not but excite an unusual degree of interest. They have had a voyage of fourteen weeks and are all in good health and spirits. An enterprise like this argues a good deal of boldness in the master of the vessel as well as an adventurous spirit in the passengers, most of whom belong to families from the vicinity of a little town in the southwestern extremity of Norway, near Cape Stavanger.

Those who came from the farms are dressed in coarse cloths of domestic manufacture, of a fashion different from the American, but those who inhabited the town wear calico, ginghams, and gay shawls, imported, we presume, from England. The vessel is built on the model common to fishing boats on that coast, with a single mast and topsail, sloop-rigged. She passed through the English channel and as far south as Madeira, where she stopped three or four days and then started directly for New York, where she arrived with the addition of one passenger born on the way.” (4)

Guided by research on early 19th century artists published by Aagot Noss, I found drawings and watercolor sketches that gave a good background on rural folk dress. (5)

The camera had not yet been invented, but we can use work of artists who were working to make accurate depictions of rural people and their clothing. Curator and author Aagot Noss wrote of the travels of Johannes Flintoe, Joachim Frich, and Adolph Tidemand. She described the clothing depicted by them in genre scenes and portraits, then compared the images to clothing artifacts in the Norsk Folkemuseum collections. Closest in time to when the action of the play takes place is the work of the Danish artist Johannes Flintoe, who traveled and sketched in rural Norway in the 1820s, although he did not travel to the Rogaland area on the West Coast. Adolph Tidemand traveled to Rogaland a little later in the 1840s. Tidemand’s model was Siri Peer’s daughter Strand (1772 – 1863), in Ryfylket, near Tysvaer. She was an older woman when painted, and she wore her old clothes. Older women held on to their clothing, because at that time clothing was made to last a lifetime. At the time of painting, younger people would have worn somewhat more fashionable clothing. (6)

Adolph Tidemand, Siri Peersdatter Strand, Strand i Ryfylke, 1849.  Nasjonalmuseet. Photo: Anne Jarre (7)

Artists from the time also created illustrations to make a record of rural occupations. These documented what was considered to be the vanishing rural way of life as ripples of the industrial revolution were being felt in Norway. A page depicting people in rural occupations was recently reprinted in Annemor Sundbø’s book Spelsau og samspill. (8) This was very useful in showing variations of women’s bodices, jackets, and accessories for different occasions. I was happy to find the use of long pants and short pants for men depicted as having been worn at approximately the same time.

Among the sculptures at Nordmands-Dalen, there is a figure from Rogaland. Photos showing two sides: Heidi Fossnes, Magasinet Bunad

Nordmands-Dalen, in the gardens surrounding Fredensborg Castle in Denmark includes carved stone sculpture – including a figures from Rogaland.  These free standing sculptures offer front, side, and back views with a degree of animation portrayed in the figures. The carving reveals the cut of clothing as well as how the garments were accessorized. Aagot Noss also wrote about these 18th century sculptures as a pertinent source for understanding regional Norwegian dress. The sculpture garden and her research was recently highlighted in article in Magasinet Bunad. (9)

Hoping to see pictures of surviving garments from the Tysvaer area, I posed a question to Kari-Anne Pedersen at Norsk Folkemuseum. She forwarded my question to Kristin Gulbrandsen at the Norwegian Institute of Bunad and Folk Costume. (10) As a result, photographs of actual garments were generously sent to me via email. The photographic archive at the institute preserves results of a survey the institute made recently in the community of Finnøy in Rogaland. The survey documented garments preserved in private family collections including bodices, skirts, aprons, and caps.  All of these were ‘Sunday best’ clothing made of finer fabrics than would have been used by the characters depicted in The Uprooting, but these photographs of real garments allowed me as designer to appreciate and study overall shape and cut representing the history in this community very close to Tysvaer.

Bodices from Finnøy, in Rogaland. Documented by The Norwegian Institute of Bunad and Folk Costume. Photo courtesy of Norsk institutt for bunad og folkedrakt, Fagernes, Norway

The next step in my research was to study actual garments from the period. I appreciate what you can learn from the inside and outside of historical garments. Garments from this time were entirely handmade; the sewing machine was not yet invented. While I was not going to make museum reproduction garments for this project, studying real garments was inspiring and provided insight to share with actors and with my group of skilled sewing volunteers. With the help of Head Curator Laurann Gilbertson, I found I could study garments at Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum in Decorah, Iowa. Garments in collection from Rogaland and documented from the early 19th century included two bodices and a skirt. A woman’s cap in the style of Rogaland was also available for study. (11)

Bodice dated as having been worn for a wedding in 1807 and brought by immigrants to Minnesota in the early 1890s. In the collection of Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum. Photo credit: Carol Colburn

Made of wool and linen, these garments were similar in cut and materials as the garments in the photographs sent by the Norwegian Institute of Bunad and Folk Costume. This flowered brocade wool fabric is called ‘kalemank,’ and was used in a number of regions of Norway. A highly valued fabric, in the late 19th century it was imported to Norway from England. What I found most exciting was being able to study the back pleats of the bodice peplum, the linings of both wool and linen; and the use of ‘spilesaum’ handsewn seams in construction the bodices.

This detailed clothing history was given nuance by finding the work of artists who depicted the emigration experience much later in time, not unlike what the playwright had done when he wrote the play in the early 20th century. The story of Cleng Peerson and the Sloopers has been the subject of art and literature over time. For example, the Norwegian political cartoonist and illustrator Benjamin Blessum (1877–1954) illustrated the story in 1914; almost 100 years after this first emigration from Norway. While our play tells the story from the perspective of those who sailed away, Blessum’s illustration is from the view of families who saw the emigrants off at the dock in Stavanger, with tears and waves – knowing they were unlikely to see their family members again. (12)

Another example is the trilogy written by author Alfred Hauge. In the mid 20th century, he wrote the Cleng Peerson story in novel form, illustrated by Hans Christian Sondresen. Sondresen’s evocative woodcut prints show the crowded conditions of the sailing vessel. Later in the story we see the immigrants just after they landed, standing close together on the edge of the dock with their trunks piled around them. You feel their relief in landing in New York City together, while still facing an uncertain future. (13)

Cast and guests from Norway danced at the Cleng Peerson Farm near Clifton, Texas. After dining and dancing together, the Mayor of Tysvaer extended an invitation for the theater troupe to travel to Norway in 2017 for a performance and historical tour in the region where the play takes place. Photo: Michael Anderson

I first saw bunads from Rogaland when our theater troupe traveled to Texas to perform. As part of a celebration after the performance at the Cleng Peerson Farm, we met a group of 30 Norwegian visitors who had also come as guests to Clifton. They were members of Tysvaer Historielag, a historical group from the area where Cleng Peerson grew up. The Sloopers who sailed to America came from towns and farms in the same area, so many of these visitors have relatives that descended from the Sloopers. Significant for me were the garments worn by the members of the Tysvaer historical group when we met them. Many had brought bunads representative of their home area of Rogaland. Bunads are used throughout Norway today primarily for special occasions. Bunads from each region have evolved from both everyday and festive regional folk clothing of older times. Although not exactly the cut or fabrics that the Sloopers would have worn, these fine garments worn today were inspiring for me as costume designer. The festivities at the farm provided an opportunity to see these garments in action – not as static images in art, or as artifacts. I knew that our audience in Tysvaer would also be familiar with their local bunad tradition when they viewed our historical play set in their community. There are many published and online sources available that trace the development of the Rogaland bunad. (14)

By early spring in 2017, the actors were meeting weekly to rehearse, and I began to draft patterns, have fittings, and recruit assistants for sewing and finishing the costumes. As about a year had passed between each of our four separate productions of The Uprooting, we relied on our written records each time we revived and added new elements to our interpretation of the script. We wrote and published a book containing the script in Norwegian and English, including the story of finding and translating the script, as well as musical and narrative additions. A chapter on costume considerations includes my character analysis and early costume sketches. (15) After compiling costume research, making character sketches served to solidify my ideas and then served as a guide as the various costume pieces came together for each character. These simple sketches became my blueprint for assembling some pieces and constructing new pieces that would reflect the sources described above. It is a way of making a visual list for the costume designer, and serves to let the director and performers know what to expect when the costumes are finished.

Sample Character Sketches for The Uprooting, Carol Colburn

Our budget was ‘shoestring’, meaning a very tight budget, relying on volunteer help and fundraising to pay for all production related expenses and materials. All members of our theater troupe initially paid for their own transportation. We sold Norwegian cookies (krumkake) and sent out letters to seek donations. The University of Minnesota Duluth Department of Theater was very supportive in allowing rental of period costume pieces from their stock, as we could not make or purchase everything needed, given our restricted time and budget. We were able to borrow garments such as men’s pants and coats, boots, and hats.

Six characters and the musician were fully costumed, with a number of new items made to reflect the research on Rogaland regional folk dress. For traveling to Norway, the costumes also needed to include all the layers of real clothing at the time, because we anticipated being outdoors in any weather. I drafted period  patterns to replicate the women’s cap and the bodice with pleated peplum that I had studied in the Vesterheim collection. Machine sewing and hand finishing was accomplished with skilled stitchers from the Duluth Fiber Handcrafter’s Guild and community volunteers. The main items that were newly built for the performance in Norway were the vests for the men, the bodices for the women, linen shirts and caps for the women. I made some design compromises due to restrictions on time and money. While I had hoped to make men’s knee length pants, my decision was to approximate the look with wool pants adjusted to be neatly tucked into tall boots. 

Period costumes are never one size fits all, so every time we produced the play over four years, there were changes in the cast requiring adjustments to the costumes. Another interesting factor was our lead singer’s growing family, with two pregnancies during our four years of producing the play. We decided it was very appropriate for her character to be pregnant. Adjusting the costumes for real size changes required for comfort while maintaining consistency with 19th century maternity clothing was a challenge for both the performer and costumer. We made the decision that elastic was just fine as long as the audience did not see it.

As costume designer I attended all rehearsals, and often read roles for absent actors.  This way I stayed in touch with exactly how the costumes would be required to function for movement on stage, and how they would be seen by the audience. Throughout the rehearsal process we incorporated costume props and accessories such as boots, hats, purses, walking sticks, and smoking pipes. 

Final dress rehearsal in Duluth with most of the cast in their basic indoor clothing. Additional layers were provided for their costumes for outdoor events in Norway. Photo credit: Carol Colburn

After final dress rehearsal, each actor tightly rolled their bulky costume pieces to be packed in their personal luggage for the flight to Norway. I packed a tool kit and back-up pieces as I knew in Norway there would be wear and tear on these costumes beyond the one evening’s performance. Having heard from our hosts in Norway, we anticipated coastal and mountain conditions of cold or heat – wind, rain, and mud – knowing that many outdoor activities were planned for cast and crew.

After our arrival in Bergen and driving about half way along the coast to Stavanger, we were introduced to the countryside and landmarks that had been the homeland of the Sloopers. Our visit was covered by newspapers in the area and Norwegian national news. Midsummer festivities in Tysvaer provided opportunities for meeting community members at outdoor events. Cast members joined the annual Cleng Peerson Walk, a hike along the very path the emigrants took from the Rossadal farm to the Hersdal farm. Community members reenact this rugged hike every year, and they continue on to the edge of the fjord, where the Sloopers boarded a boat to take them to the sloop named Restauration in Stavanger. We attended a musical event at a monument to Cleng Peerson, and also presented music from the play in the mountainside farmyard of the Hersdal farm.

We experienced sailing the reconstructed Restauration and imagined the crowded conditions the original Sloopers experienced on their three month voyage. Photo credit: Carol Colburn

A day later, the cast and crew sailed on the North Sea in heavy rain, sailing out of the docks in Stavanger. We sailed in the rain for a day. It was sobering to think of the 53 Sloopers who sailed in all weather for 98 days, crowded together with all their luggage and supplies. Despite a very small ship, no privacy for families, and only preserved and dried food, all the Sloopers arrived safely. On board, a healthy baby was born, so when they arrived in the New York harbor, there were 54.

The outdoor community experiences for our theater troupe helped us understand more about 19th century rural life. Along the way, we met local residents of the area who knew all about the real people on whom the characters were based. It was not a new story to them, but it was a new experience for them to meet Americans who had crossed the ocean to ‘bring the story back.’ It was also satisfying for me to hear local residents comment on the costumes. One woman who is a bunad maker recognized and commented on the pattern cut and the wool and linen fabrics that did reflect Rogaland clothing traditions to her trained eye. In addition to the rather dramatic experiences of hiking and sailing, we visited other historic sights, such as the small home where Cleng Peerson spent his childhood years, and to the Quaker meeting house, the location of which had to be secret in those days due to fears of religious persecution. Each of the trips required costume maintenance with quick turn-around time for cleaning, steaming, and ironing before every event. Luckily, we were fed and housed very comfortably with host families. We were able to re-group each night while maintaining this demanding schedule for 10 days.

Linen shirts drying on the clothesline. Photo: Carol Colburn

Our costumed flute player joined us for staging rehearsals in the 360 seat house in the community center in the town of Aksdal. To our surprise, the stage was set by our friends in the Tysvaer Historielag with props and furniture from the Cleng Peerson historical house. Lights were added by the house theater technician, and sound levels were adjusted to the action at our final technical rehearsal.

My role the night of performance was to make sure everyone was ready backstage, and then to take a seat in the audience to watch the costumes in action. As costume designer, I am not on stage as part of the curtain call – but for me, being backstage and then in the audience gives me a full experience of theater that is the best of both worlds.

Curtain Call. After our performance of The Uprooting, a community choral group from the nearby community of Sand told another chapter of the Slooper story in song. We shared the final curtain call with the chorus, also in costume. Photo credit: Caitlin Nielsen

A live performance is not complete without the participation of the audience. Director Kristbjørg Eide summed up her impressions of the play’s effect on the audience, and their response, in her article published in The Banner.

“The story of the Sloopers filled the Tysvaertunet Theater in the glow of stage lights, to the haunting music of a traditional Norwegian flute accompanying a melodic soprano as characters on stage delivered lines in both English and the Norwegian dialect of the Sloopers’ home region. A rhythmic ovation of 360 audience members clapping in unison showed their appreciation. And all this began at our Duluth Nordic Center.” (16)

Carol Colburn – Designing costumes for this play focusing on Norwegian emigration, Carol has combined her interests in Norwegian-American clothing history and theatrical costume design. She is co-author with Laurann Gilbertson of the Vesterheim publication Handweaving in the Norwegian Tradition and has contributed chapters on Norwegian-American clothing to Marion Nelson’s books Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition and Material Culture and People’s Art Among the Norwegians in America. After a career teaching design for theater, opera, and dance, she is Professor Emerita at the University of Northern Iowa. Now living in Duluth, Minnesota she continues to write about clothing history and to make garments inspired by her research. She teaches heritage sewing workshops at North House Folk School in Grand Marais, Minnesota and John C. Campbell Folk School in Brasstown, North Carolina. 
  1. Kristbjørg Eide, “The Uprooting in Norway: Theater Troupe with a Mission,” The Banner (newsletter for the Nordic Center), Fall, 2017.
  2. Production Team: Director Kristbjørg Eide and Costume Designer Carol Colburn. Actors Jason Nordberg (Cleng Peerson), Mike Raschick (Lars Geilane), Jim Anderson (Kornelius Hersdal), Erika Bjerketvedt (Kari Hersdal), Michael K. Anderson (Daniel Rossadal), Caitlin Nielson (Berta Rossadal), and Laura Larson (Musician).
  3. J. Hart Rosdail. The Sloopers: Their Ancestry and Posterity. Norwegian Slooper Society of America, 1961.
  4. New York Daily Advertiser, Wednesday, October 12, 1825. Reprinted in The Sloopers by J. Hart Rosdail
  5. Aagot Noss. “Norske folkedrakter set med kunstnarauge: Ei Kjeldekritisk studie 2.”  Kunst og Kultur Nr. 1, 2002. Published by Universitetsforlaget in collaboration with the  Nationalgalleriet.
  6. Email to Carol Colburn from Kristin Gulbrandsen, The National Council of Folk Costumes in Norway, March 24, 2017. 
  7. ibid.
  8. Annemor Sundbø. Spelsau og samspill. Bokbyen Forlag, 2015, page 127. 
  9. Heidi Fossness. “Nordmands-Dalen,” Magasinet Bunad, Nr. 1, May 2015, page 54-67.
  10. Email to Carol Colburn from Kristin Gulbrandsen, The National Council of Folk Costumes in Norway, March 24, 2017. 
  11. Vesterheim Collection. #LC0914. These garments have been in the Vesterheim Collection since 1953 (at that time the collection at Luther College) donated by Aslaug Toftoy. This bodice dates from 1807, known because it was used as bridal clothing by Kari Olsdatter from Solim on Sunday 19, July 1807, when she married Holger Nielsen Toftoy.  Place of origin is stated as Norway/Rogaland/Haugesunddistricktet/Ryfylke/Solim.
  12. J. Hart Rosdail. The Sloopers: Their Ancestry and Posterity. Norwegian Slooper Society of America, 1961.
  13. Cleng Peerson: Hundevakt (1961, Part I of the Cleng Peerson trilogy of novels); Cleng Peerson: Landkjenning (1961, Part II); Cleng Peerson: Ankerfeste. (1965, Part III)
  14. Husfliden Stavanger. http://husflidenstavanger.no
  15. Vigleik Rosseland. The Uprooting. Cleng Peerson and the Norwegian Immigration of 1825: A Play. The Nordic Center, 2015. Contributors: Thomas Mannes, Text plus Norwegian translation; Kristbjørg Eide, Text plus English translation; Carol Ann Colburn, Costumer.
  16. Kristbjørg Eide, “The Uprooting in Norway: Theater Troupe with a Mission,” The Banner (newsletter for the Nordic Center), Fall, 2017.

Craft and Identity Course Exhibit: The Students’ Statements

By Heidi Goldberg, Associate Professor of Art

Examples of students’ warp-weighted loom weaving

Last summer from May 9th through June 7th, four students from Concordia College in Moorhead, Minnesota, went on a learning adventure. Alexis Anderson, Kristina Brunson, Rachel Johnson, and Alli Pahl joined me and her daughter Aubrie (a freshman at Oak Grove Lutheran High School in Fargo) for a month-long course in Norway, Craft and Identity. Their experience was celebrated in an exhibit at the Prairie Fiber Arts Center from  January 12 – February 16, 2018. The samples they wove during a week-long course at the Osterøy Museum represented traditional åkler (bedspread) designs from Western Norway and varafeldur (Viking cloak). Below are the artist statements written for the exhibit; they demonstrate the meaningful experience of immersive, hands-on craft instruction.  As Kristina Brunson wrote, “Sometimes when looking at things, there isn’t a great appreciation for it until you’ve done it yourself.  It also means a lot more after putting your own hard work into something.”

The Craft and Identity group (left to right); Aubrie Goldberg, Kristina Brunson, Rachel Johnson, Alli Pahl, Alexis Anderson, and Heidi Goldberg

Alexis Anderson

The most impactful part of the Craft and Identity course for me was the weaving workshop in Osterøy. It was my first time weaving with a warp-weighted loom and I very much enjoyed the whole process. The weaving workshop gave me the opportunity to throw myself into making art. Rarely do I and will I have the chance to truly live and feel like an artist for a week: daily walks to and from the museum, spending hours on end deeply engaged in creation, eating our matpakke in the studio and picking right back up shortly afterwards. This workshop showed me that I have what it takes to dedicate myself to a project that seems intimidating and larger than myself at first, and that I can be an artist in whatever way I choose. The weaving workshop was the most impactful for me because it taught me the most about myself: I can be patient and go with the flow; I can be hard on myself, but I can easily shake my mistakes off, learn from them, and move on; and I can learn a new skill and be successful if I dedicate my energy and time to it. Throughout the four weeks of this course I found myself increasingly noticing the art and beauty that surrounds us all. My eyes have been opened to the art that exists naturally and it has made the world a more colorful place. 

 Rachel Johnson

I am a Social Studies Education major at Concordia College. While at the Osterøy Museum during the Craft and Identity class, I worked on an åkle weaving on a warp weighted loom. The most challenging part of weaving was the process of setting up the loom. There is a lot of preparation, about a day’s work, to do before one can even start weaving. I really enjoyed picking out traditional patterns from weavings in their collection and using traditional colors in my own small sample piece. My absolute favorite part of our time at the Osterøy Museum was our teachers. Marta and Monika were wonderful, incredibly knowledgeable, and extremely patient.

Alli Pahl

Last May 9th through June 7th, I had the opportunity to attend  the Craft and Identity course. The course offered many experiences that we all learned so much from, but one of the biggest learning weeks for me was the week we spent in Osterøy. While in Osterøy we had the opportunity to spend a week at the Hordaland Museum where we learned how to warp and weave on a warp-weighted loom from amazing weavers, Marta and Monika. It was an experience that I will never forget. I had never done any sort of weaving before so it was definitely something new for me, and was much harder to do than I had originally thought. After seeing Marta and Monika’s works along with museum pieces, and in the process of working on a weaving myself, I gained so much respect for weavers and the work they do. It truly was an amazing experience to learn from such talented artists. Not only did they teach us about weaving techniques, but they also talked about the history of these weavings, and they taught us about making and using natural dyes. Throughout the month we spent in Norway, it opened my eyes to so many different types of art forms and techniques. There was so much we learned historically from going to places such as Maihaugen (an open-air museum in Lillehammer), where we got to see the old houses of Norway and learn about how people during lived in previous centuries. Norway is a place filled with art and beautiful scenery, and this was a trip I will never forget. 

Kristina Brunson

The Craft and Identity trip was no less than amazing.  The experience and culture that was obtained on the trip is something I’ll remember and will forever influence how I look at the world around me.  I have also gained a greater appreciation for the skill, effort, and hard work it takes to do things such as weaving.  Weaving takes more time and patience than it may look.  It took almost a day and half before actually being able to start weaving.  While working on the weavings there were a variety of different techniques to learn to get different patterns such as tabby (plain weave), krogbragd (crooked path), and rutevev (square-weave), just to name a few.  After learning some of the different patterns it made things go a bit faster but it still took time, which was ok as it gave a perspective of how much work it really takes, even though the weaving is a lot smaller than normal size for the traditional akler (woven bedspread). Sometimes when looking at things, there isn’t a great appreciation for it until you’ve done it yourself.  It also means a lot more after putting your own hard work into something.  This experience has opened my eyes and changed how I see things and appreciate the hard work and dedication it takes to do handcrafts like weaving.

Aubrie Goldberg

Weaving on Østeroy brought a new perspective to me about how much work used to be put into every aspect of a person’s day to day life. I worked on making a varafel sampler. The traditional varafel would have been used by the Vikings as a large cloak to keep them warm and dry. This would have been a valued item at the time for obvious reasons. I observed the process  of making the åkler, which were used as thick blankets on a bed. They were very colorful and tastefully designed. I realized how much work was put into every object. Everything was crafted by hand, from the table-wear to the homes. It’s crazy how much time was spent making things then compared to now with all the machines doing a lot of work. Most people have lost sight of what it takes to make something by hand and especially how long it takes to get good at it. For me, art and craft are both very rewarding. I enjoy spending my time working on something creative that will be enjoyed by others and myself. Weaving on Østeroy was a valuable experience. 

 

Craft and Identity: An Immersion Course in Norway

By Heidi Goldberg

It was 14 years ago that my friend Dawn Tommerdahl and I began taking weaving classes together. It wasn’t long after that I became aware of the wonderful world of Scandinavian weaving. We both fell in love with weaving (already being avid knitters and fiber fanatics). In short time we had a “string gang” as Dawn and I were joined by friends Charlie Hovde, Sharon Marquardt, and Marian Quanbeck-Dahlberg, who are all marvelous weavers. Fiber communities seem to be ever-expanding groups (particularly with the marvel of communication via social media at our fingertips) where the culture of sharing, support, passion, and knowledge keeps us all moving forward. Over the years the string gang has motivated and learned from each other while taking classes at the Vesterheim Museum in Decorah, Iowa, and at our highly anticipated annual get-togethers. These experiences I revel in as an artist also feed my work as an educator. Exposing students to the thrills of cultivating and working with natural materials through observation and practice is exhilarating. Naturally I want to share this culture of learning and accomplishment with students and see them embrace the joys of seeing, designing, and making. Having the opportunity of going to Norway with a group of students and connecting with artists in Norway was a sweet adventure that I couldn’t have dreamt of in my early days of teaching, and one for which I am extremely grateful. 

After years of preparation and an invaluable scouting trip to Norway to explore and set up contacts, things were set for a summer school course in Norway from May 9th–June 7th, 2017, called Craft and Identity. The goal of the course in a nutshell was to study art and craft practices and traditions, and to look at how they relate to ourselves as individuals, makers, and artists considering the following;

  • influences of history on art/craft
  • fundamental connection of art/craft to nature and environment
  • function and design as they relate to form/intention
  • technical processes of various media
  • critical use of fundamentals of design elements and principles
  • aesthetic/style 
  • integration, support, and importance of art/craft in society 
  • connections between traditional and contemporary arts 
  • connections and differences between Nordic (Scandinavian) arts and arts of other cultures

Our travel group consisted of four students; Allison Pahl, Alexis Anderson, Kristina Brunson, and Rachel Johnson, plus my 13-year-old Aubrie, and me. Traveling from Fargo to Lillehammer went well, and despite full understanding on the part of this northern crew of the necessity of cold weather preparation, some wardrobe upgrades were vital. So, the day after our arrival and an exhilarating morning walking through sleet in Lillehammer and Maihaugen, we discovered Fretex (a treasure trove of second-hand quality goods) where some fine bargain lambswool was procured! Exploring the exhibits at Maihaugen laid the foundation of historical and creative inquiry for the trip with its extensive and holistic collection of artifacts that illuminated the art and culture of multiple eras in Norway.

Niblet, the Concordia College mascot, visits the Olympic ski jump in Lillehammer..

Museum and gallery visits (balancing historic and contemporary foci) were an important part of the course in each location to which we travelled, but the hands-on components were particularly memorable. We took a bus to Gjøvik for a short workshop to learn about and print skinnfell with Britt Solheim in her studio. She treated us to an unexpected traditional Norwegian lunch in her home, the first of a number of very special moments of warm hospitality we encountered. The next day we were treated to a wonderful talk about the prints of Vegard Stalsberg at Galleri Zink, and we investigated the exhibitions at the Lillehammer Kunstmuseum. Another highlight was walking up to the Olympic ski jump at the top of the city. 

When we arrived in Oslo, it was appropriate for us to begin our stay with a visit to the National Gallery. We were happy to find Oslo welcoming and easy to find one’s way around in. We stayed just north of the Royal Palace, allowing easy mobility around the central part of the city. We packed a lot into our 11 days in Oslo, along with a day-trip to Eidsvoll Verk to see Constitution Hall. We toured the facilities of the National Opera, took in the ballet of Don Quixote, window-shopped on Karl Johan, saw Akerhus Fortress and Castle, Vigeland Park, Vår Frelsers graveyard, Grünerlokka, The Munch Museum, Aker Brygge, the Astrup Fearnley Museum, and much more. Occasions when people shared their expertise were particularly special. 

In front of the National Gallery: Aubrie Goldberg, Alexis Anderson, Rachel Johnson, Alli Pahl, and Kristina Brunson

We spent time at the Norwegian Folk Museum and met with ethnologist, curator of textiles and costumes, and bunad expert Kari-Anne Pedersen to prepare for the multitude of bunads from all regions we were to see on Norwegian Constitution Day. On Syttende Mai we had tickets to stand on the palace grounds and see the royal family and the parade from a great vantage point – which was memorable because one becomes completely surrounded by the festivities. The following day we were invited to the home of Kari-Anne Pedersen to learn some basic embroidery techniques. She taught us a bit of the beautifully contrasting geometric technique with linen thread called smøyg, while her friend Helen Juell taught us some organic/floral rosesaum with wool thread. We sat together around the table, talking, listening, and learning. All this while enjoying good chocolate and coffee, and a wonderful lunch with home-made lompe, cheese, meat, and jam. Delicious!

A studio visit with Kari Steihaug

A tour with Kathy Elliott, Lecturer in the Department of Exhibitions at the Cultural History Museum, was wonderful; she imparted rich knowledge and stories and is so passionate about teaching Viking and medieval art. We also explored an island in the Oslofjord called Hovedøya. It was an honor to be invited into the studios of noted fiber artists Inger Johanne Rasmussen (who makes mesmerizing colorful large works with inlaid felted wool), and Kari Steihaug (who creates poignant and beautiful socially active works in the form of installations). It was critical for us to witness contemporary artistic process with the works they shared and make connections between the past and present. We left Oslo with many more miles on our shoes and took the scenic train trip to Bergen en route to the largest inland island in Norway, Osterøy.

We stayed on an idyllic farm, Skjerping Gård, among grazing Vilsau sheep and we walked back and forth to the museum each day. It was at the Hordaland Museum where we took a week-long intensive workshop on warp-weighted weaving. I knew Marta Kløve Juuhl from a previous course at the Vesterheim in Decorah, Iowa, and was delighted to meet Monika Sunnanå Ravnanger (a fashion designer and weaver who also has expertise in traditional dying methods), who is also working at the Hordaland Museum. The two were marvelous teachers. 

Preparation for a day at the loom,

We worked on warping and weaving a variety of techniques on warp-weighted looms, with two people working per loom. The students had the choice of making a sampler of a traditional colorful åkle with various weave structures, or a Viking varafel with dehkhår (long fibers of the wild sheep – Vilsau). The students all chose the colorful åkle project while Aubrie and I opted for varafeldur, so it was nice for everyone to see variety of work progressing during the week. We were also fortunate to watch Monika develop a special project. She was weaving white varafel sleeves on the warp-weighted loom as part of a collaboration with a Norwegian fashion designer for a piece for the famous Norwegian musician Aurora. It was exciting seeing this work being done, and it was a striking example of how old craft lends itself to contemporary practice in art. We were treated to Marta’s talk on some extraordinary historic objects in the collection (both tools and weavings), and Monika’s talk on traditional dye methods. Also, there was excitement about Marta’s newly released book, The Warp-Weighted Loom (a worthy investment). The week-long workshop was a well-placed break from the faster pace of exploration we had up to that point. It was good to have time to reflect, walk in nature, and pursue the single goal in learning new technique and weaving for the week. 

Concordia students working on back-to-back warp-weighted looms at the Hordaland Museum in Osterøy, Norway

Unforgettable Bergen antique shop

It was bittersweet to leave Osterøy but exciting to head to Bergen for our last days to explore the famous port city with its incredible fish market and charming streets. We began understanding the city with a ride up the mountain on the Floibanen, where one is rewarded with an aerial view of the city below. We followed that with healthy miles of hiking on the mountain and back down to and through the city. The next day we were kindly given a tour in the backrooms at Husfliden to see preparations of bunads (thanks to Monika for arranging it with a colleague). We enjoyed the Kode art museums as well as antique stores in Bergen. A Norway in a Nutshell tour (by train, bus, and boat) featured jaw-dropping nature along the Bergen Railway, Flåm Railway, Aurlandsfjord, Nærøyfjord, and Stalheimskleiva. It was awe-inspiring to absorb the incredible scenery along the fjords from our front row seats. It was a fluid connection to where we started in Lillehammer at Maihaugen, looking at the objects people used that were inspired by the power of nature and the necessity of navigating through it. Everything comes full circle.

Six months after the trip we shared the results of our work in Norway with our community. We put together a modest exhibition of the weavings we made called Craft and Identity – Summer School in Norway: Learning Weaving Traditions of Western Norway, at the Prairie Fiber Arts Center in Moorhead, Minnesota. My hope is that these marvelous students who helped make the trip so delightful, will be inspired to continue with what they have learned on this adventure and that they let the experience inspire life choices that will cultivate inspiration and satisfaction for many years. 

Heidi Goldberg is an Associate Professor of Art and Chair of the Art Department at Concordia College, Moorhead, Minnesota, where she has taught since 1995. She graduated with a BA from Hamline University in 1990, and earned her MFA in printmaking and works on paper from the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor in 1993. Inspired by topics regarding the natural world and our relationships to it, Goldberg works in mixed media, fiber, and printmaking.  Her works have been exhibited in local, regional, national and international juried exhibitions. She lives in the sand hills near the Sheyenne National Grasslands in North Dakota.

 

Ullialt: A Program to Promote Norwegian Wool

Translator’s note: Norges Husflidslag (the Norwegian Handcraft Association) is working on a four-year project to increase the knowledge, use, and availability of Norwegian wool, titled Ullialt (Wool in Everything). This article originally appeared in Lokalhistorisk Magasin (No. 1-2, 2016), and is translated and reprinted with permission. Robbie LaFleur 

By Sølvi Westvang, Project Leader

Norwegian wool has saved lives. It has given us a national identity and proud stories from the extreme climate of Norway. Sixty percent of all Norwegians have wool in their closets, in contrast to almost 0% in the wool-nation of England.  In Norway you don’t see children in nursery school between November and April without wool clothes, and when we have time off we pick up our knitting needles. When we handle wool we assume it is from Norway—but that is rare.

As the country’s largest organization for handcraft and textiles, we know both the users of wool and the market well. Misleading labels and difficult to find information on the wool we use has made the need for a better labeling system and broader knowledge of Norwegian wool apparent. 

For that reason Norges Husflidslag (the Norwegian Handcraft Association) arranged a national meeting in 2014 and has undertaken a focus on wool for the period from 2015-2018, under the project name Ullialt (wool in everything). 

Economic cornerstone in a meager landscape 

Norwegian wool has created cornerstone businesses in Norwegian towns and communities, and through generations it was the basis of demanding work for untold numbers of women in their homes, both in connection with home and animal care, and with handcraft.  Children and husbands must be kept warm, and women required the skills and knowledge to create everything that was needed.  Communities developed as a result of the need for wool products. But then imports began to increase, factories were bought out, and production was taken out of the country.  Knowledge of the past disappeared.  Long ago. 

Today’s environmental focus, a “green wave,” has contributed to a change in our attitude as consumers.  We want to know how our products were made, how the animals were treated along the way.  We want insight into the environmental costs of their production. “Local” has positive connotations. Today there is status in purchasing items produced close to home. Designers, handcraft producers, and consumers are placing pressure, and manufacturers have just started to respond to these demands.

Is is Norwegian? 

But there is one way to go, and today labeling of wool products is one of the biggest challenges. The rule seems to be: The bigger the Norwegian flag there is on the tag, the smaller chance there is that what you hold in your hand is made of Norwegian wool.  

Ask about the origin when you are shopping! Many powers are pulling the in same direction to identify Norwegian wool. The National Institute for Consumer Research has the ball now, while several subject specialists contribute opinions and knowledge during the project.  During the project period we hope to see the contours of a label regulation that will help knowledgeable consumers purchase correctly: clothes and yarn with deep roots in our local and national history. 

You are what you eat

Images from an Ullialt poster

That is true for sheep, too. A good life with good food from the Norwegian landscape and nature gives our 2.5 million sheep good meat and fine wool (when the sheep choose themselves, they eat herbs.) 

4500 tons of wool are produced in Norway annually.  Barely a third of this becomes yarn or textiles for you and me. The rest of the wool is exported or discarded. 53,000 tons, or about half, of all the textiles sold in Norway are made of cotton that has traveled halfway around the world one or many times.  Our average use of cotton is three times as big as that of the rest of the world. Norwegian wool travels a short way and has been minimally treated with chemicals. Our sheep are healthy, and their wool is renewable and environmentally friendly.  Norwegian wool is a resource with huge potential! 

Through the Ullialt program Norway’s Handcraft Association has taken a leading role in disseminating information on Norwegian wool.  From April 20-23, 2017, we held a conference in Stjørdal under the the project’s name: Ullialt. In the course of four days almost 200 participants received insight into politics, land use, handcraft techniques, environmental labeling, design, and a number of other facets concerning wool. The project will include several initiatives during the project period.  We will especially try to reach children, young people, and farmers. It is important to root our knowledge here, because this is the future for Norwegian wool! 

Translator’s note: There is much more information on the project on the Husflid website, at www.husflid.no/fagsider/ullialt, including: an inspiration page listing many books on spinning, knitting, and weaving with wool; several knitting projects featuring wool; and a page featuring several methods to knit heels of socks (!).  Ullialt sponsored a “warm feet” contest, and published the winning sock knitting pattern, designed by Synnøve Smedhus (pictured). If you would like to see any of the other sections translated for the next Norwegian Textile Letter, let me know, at: lafleur1801@me.com. The images in this article are from the Ullialt pages.

When I contacted Sølvi Westvang about my translation, she enthusiastically updated me:  

So much is happening in the Norwegian wool industry right now! Consumers growing consciousness is forcing through clearer marketing, more products and an increased focus on ecology. Most products are not labelled “eco” or “ecologic”, but our sheep grazes in the forests and mountains all summer long. They live free and eat ecologically most of their lifes. Norwegian farming is one of the safest and most transparent in the whole world. Every country in Europe use more antibiotics than we do on our farms!

In September there is a big festival in Seljord, Telemark. It’s calles Dyrsku’n and was traditionally a place to meet, show, sell and buy cows, sheeps etc. Today it is much more, and here you find arts and crafts, music, lectures, wool, Norwegian culture + + +. This year wool is the main theme of the handcrafts exhibition. Well worth a visit for all who’s interested in that sorts. https://www.dyrskun.no/

On our Facebook-page we update our followers on news from Norwegian wool: https://www.facebook.com/tydelignorskull/

I know that I and many of my fellow weavers in Minnesota appreciate Norwegian wool.  For example, here is one of many skeins I ordered this month for a weaving. 

Robbie LaFleur

 

 

 

 

Virgin Tapestries and the Bridal Theme

By Randi Nygaard Lium

Editor’s note: The most-woven motif at the peak of medieval Norwegian tapestry weaving was the biblical story of the Wise and Foolish Virgins.  The two rows of virgins with a highly patterned background are emblematic of Norwegian billedvev (literally, picture-weaving) and recognized by museum-goers worldwide, like this version owned by the Minneapolis Institute of Arts (MIA). Why did this image resonate with weavers of the era?  We are grateful for permission to present this translation of Art Historian Randi Nygaard Lium’s expert analysis, which appeared in her new book, Tekstilkunst i Norge (Textile Art in Norway). 

The most popular Norwegian medieval tapestry motif is, as earlier mentioned, the Five Wise and Five Foolish Virgins. The fundamental basis of the image is a representation of virgins who went out to meet the bridegroom. The background text is from Matthew, Chapter 25, Verses 1-13.  

1 “Then the kingdom of heaven will be comparable to ten virgins, who took their lamps and went out to meet the bridegroom. 2 “Five of them were foolish, and five were prudent. 3 “For when the foolish took their lamps, they took no oil with them, 4 but the prudent took oil in flasks along with their lamps. 5 “Now while the bridegroom was delaying, they all got drowsy and began to sleep. 6 “But at midnight * there was a shout, ‘Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’ 7 “Then all those virgins rose and trimmed their lamps. 8 “The foolish said to the prudent, ‘Give us some of your oil, for our lamps are going out.’ 9 “But the prudent answered, ‘No, there will not be enough for us and you too; go instead to the dealers and buy some for yourselves.’ 10 “And while they were going away to make the purchase, the bridegroom came, and those who were ready went in with him to the wedding feast; and the door was shut. 11 “Later the other virgins also came, saying, ‘Lord, lord, open up for us.’ 12 “But he answered, ‘Truly I say to you, I do not know you.’ 13 “Be on the alert then, for you do not know the day nor the hour. (These verses in English are from the New American Standard Bible.)

The motif was used in European visual art in the Middle Ages. When it became popular in Norway, the image spread through prints. In all the tapestries the virgins are woven in two horizontal lines, with the wise virgins uppermost and the foolish virgins below. The wise virgins proudly hold up their lamps. The foolish virgins hold handkerchiefs to dry their tears; their situations were difficult.  They couldn’t have known beforehand how much time it would take for the bridegroom to arrive. This image shows the high demands made of young women. To be pure and innocent when the bridegroom arrived was not enough; they also needed to be alert and vigilant. 

Along with the ten women in long dresses, men are woven in as side characters. It is interesting that the bridegroom is Jesus. In several tapestries the oil seller is placed in the lower right hand corner, and one tapestry even has the inscription “eros kiøbe” (eros purchase). This male figure has associations to something completely apart from virginity and purity.  It is as if to purchase extra oil could be interpreted as having to do with prostitution. Therefore there are many layers of meaning to this theme. The tapestries were used as bedcovers, and as a beautiful covering for the marriage bed it was a reminder of moral demands.  

In the oldest virgin tapestries from around the middle of the 1600s, the women are dressed in festive renaissance dresses, jackets with a high waist, and pleated collars. They often have crowns, and the long dresses are richly detailed, with a center section that resembles an apron. Behind the upper women you see architecture that looks like a city. The women are woven in two horizontal rows, one over the other, with a border between. 

In the tapestries from the 1700s you see stylization and abstraction, which results in figures that are increasingly ornamental in their expression.  The skirts, upper parts of their clothing, faces, and crowns create an ornamental whole. The inscriptions disappear, as well as the extra figures. The architecture behind the row of wise virgins is gone, replaced by decorative elements. The virgins’ lamps and handkerchiefs have disappeared, and with them much of the meaningful symbols of the story. Perhaps the message was forgotten over time, and when weaving a bridal coverlet the weaver perhaps followed a pattern she inherited. 

Three original coverlets from 1760 from Bøverdalen have been preserved.  The weaver was called the “bibelsprengte” weaver (the weaver who broke with the Bible), because she interpreted the motifs in her own style. Her unique tapestries included her rococo tapestry, Kristi forfedre (“Christ’s Ancestors”), and three identical Five Wise and Five Foolish Virgins tapestries, which included a whole row of accompanying figures.  The three virgin tapestries were gifts for three sisters. 

1760, Bøverdalen in Gudbrandsdal. Nordenfjelske Kunstindustrimuseum. Photo: Dino Makridis

 

Above the upper virgins is a whole new row depicting from the left: Joseph, Mary and the Christ Child, and the three Wise Men. On the right is Jesus, the heavenly bridegroom. Beside the virgins Jacob stands to the right in the upper row, and Joseph to the right in the lower row.  The names of Jacob and Joseph are woven in. 

This is an innovation of the virgin motif. The three tapestries from Bøverdalen aren’t rigid in the same manner as the other 1700s coverlets. Now the figures are freer and more lively, and they are clothed in elegant rococo clothing. “Christ’s Ancestors” is quite special, with many elegant men placed in diagonal rows up the tapestry.  They wear a rococo costume with a long, narrow jacket in brocade, knee pants, and knitted stockings. The women have beautiful dresses—narrow in the middle, with a skirt bustling over a form. The weaver was well-acquainted with fashion of the day.  In “Christ’s Ancestors” we find a rhythm and liveliness that is new in tapestries from Gudbrandsdal. Rococo playfulness and feminine elegance have made their marks? 

Tapestries with the virgin motif were woven in the western part of the country, too, but were not as common as in the valleys of eastern Norway.  The western virgin tapestries also had a unique expression, and were seldom the main motif of the tapestry. Virgins were often placed in the center  of the tapestry, surrounded by borders and ornamental designs. The virgin motif was persistent in the area, and was woven all the way to the beginning of the 1800s. 

A west coast virgin tapestry from the collection of the Norsk Folkemuseum. https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023130651/teppe

Virgin tapestries from Valdres and Trøndelag have been preserved, too.  They echo the Gudbrandsdal tapestries, which shows that work from that area was an inspiration for weavers in both Valdres and Trøndelag. Many fine tapestry pillows from the 1700s are also found in Oppdal (in Sør-Trøndelag). 

The virgin tapestries were used as wedding coverlets, and their symbolism signals moral expectations of the bride. That was indisputable and universally known. But it is less known that during that time marriage between a man and a woman was also a symbol of a woman’s bridal relationship to Christ, a marriage with spiritual meaning.

A young, god-fearing woman could enter into a spiritual marriage with Christ, dedicate her life to religion. In this way the purpose of marriage was both earthly and spiritual. Therefore Jesus was the heavenly bridegroom—and woven into the coverlets. The coverlets were religious beyond having just a moral point: they symbolized Christian purity and faith. 

Marriage was holy and formed the basis of the church’s moral requirements. Among other things, there were rules about when a couple could make love. The rules were strict and difficult to abide by, resulting in guilt. The couple were not supposed to have sex on weekends or during holidays, or during pregnancy. The function of sexuality was procreation and furthering your family, not unfettered intimate relations; that was sinful. 

At that time there was often a close relationship between individuals and the parish minister. The worship service was a time away from work and an occasion that helped support people in holding themselves faithful to God. The minister had a double function.  From the pulpit on Sundays he was an authority who admonished those who listened about a Christian life without sin, and at the same time he was a spiritual provider from whom people sought guidance in difficult times. Perhaps it was also the minister a woman might visit to seek consolation when relations with her husband had been too lively or moving toward the forbidden. The guilt was difficult to bear alone, and her husband may not have been the easiest one to confide in under those circumstances. 

Young women also had the opportunity to write a letter to the minister, called a “virgin letter.” However it wasn’t only unmarried women who confided in a minister; in Iceland a written confession is preserved from a young married woman who felt guilty because, according to church rules, she had an overly active sex life with her husband.  The minister learned the most intimate details of the couple’s relationship in this confession. 

Through his presence a minister was a sort of psychologist of that time. He gave penance and forgiveness for sins, and that helped women with issues they struggled with alone. 

When we examine the many preserved coverlets with the virgin motif, we come to understand their meaning is about more than just the requirement to be a virgin when entering marriage. It encompasses also a holy marriage that required one to lead a religious life.

A Wise and Foolish Virgins tapestry owned by the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum. http://collections.vesterheim.org/items/show/561

Randi Nygaard Lium is a textile artist, author, and curator. Educated in Denmark, she has a degree in Art History from Aarhus University and studied weaving at Det Jyske Kunstakademi (Jutland Art Academy). She is the Senior Researcher at the Museum for Decorative Arts (Kunstindustrimuseet) in Trondheim, Norway.  She was the Director of the Trondheim Art Museum (Kunstmuseum) from 1998-2011, and the Head Curator at the Museum of Decorative Arts, Trondheim, 1986-88.  She has written several books on textile art, including Tekstilkunst i Norge (2016 and Ny Norsk Billedvev – Et Gjennombrud (1992). Her work has been shown in many exhibits in Norway and other countries, including a solo exhibition at the Design Museum Denmark in Copenhagen (2006). Her work is represented in several museums and in commissioned work in public buildings.

Book excerpt translated by Robbie LaFleur, who constantly runs into more depictions of the Wise and Foolish Virgins.  

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National Exhibition of Weaving in the Norwegian Tradition, 2017: Even More Inspiration

Since The Norwegian Textile Letter is published as an online newsletter, we can include ALL the entries in the annual National Exhibition of Weaving the in the Norwegian Tradition.  Years ago, when print was our only choice, only a few photos of the top ribbon weavers were included.  The non-ribbon winners are of high quality as well! Also, pieces submitted by weavers who have earned a Gold Medal in weaving are not eligible for judging. Enjoy these excellent and varied entries, too. 

Gold Medalist Veronna Capone, from Brookings, SD,  entered “Slowly/Light Grows/Then Closes,” a wall hanging in pick-and-pick technique.

 Jan Mostrom, a Gold Medalist from Chanhassen MN, wove “Crossing Borders,” a wall hanging in Sjonbragd technique.

 Melissa Brown, Decorah IA, wove a table runner in Monk’s Belt Technique.

 Judy Ness, Gold Medalist from Eugene, OR, wove “Intention” bound weave rug.

 Lisa Anne Bauch from Bloomington, MN, wove a rya wall hanging, “Three Little Birds.” 

Meredith Bennett from Free Union VA, wove the rya “Confetti.”

Andrea Myklebust from Stockholm, WI, wove yardage in twill weave. 

 Nancy Ellison from Zumbrota, MN, wove a weavers flag in “Ja Vi Elsker (Yes We Love Wool).” 

“Lars” the sheep was commemorated in Nancy Ellison’s wall hanging with natural fleece rya.  Nancy (and Lars) live in Zumbrota, Minnesota. 

 Rosemary Roehl, a Gold Medalist from St. Cloud MN, wove “Fall,” in figurative bound weave.

Rosemary Roehl, Gold Medalist from St. Cloud, MN, also celebrated “Spring” in figurative bound weave.

See photos of the ribbon winners in this year’s exhibition, here. 

National Exhibition of Folk Art in the Norwegian Tradition, 2017: Award Winners

 

By Laurann Gilbertson, Curator

We have come to expect technical and artistic excellence from weaving entries in the National Exhibition of Folk Art in the Norwegian Tradition at Vesterheim.  And once again, in 2017, we were not disappointed.  The artists provided traditional and contemporary works in a wide range of Norwegian and Scandinavian techniques.  Several artists included some interpretation to go with their works.  Jan Mostrom’s wall hanging was woven entirely from yarn hand dyed with natural dyes, creating surprisingly bright colors. (See detail at left.) She wrote, “Weaving with these natural dyed yarns connected me with weavers of the past as I had to adapt if I ran short of a certain color of yarn. At times I used a different yarn and I occasionally had to change my original plan.”  Nancy Ellison used natural wool locks from from Lars, a white Icelandic-Gotland cross ram in her flock, for a charming handwoven image of the ram himself.  And Andrea Myklebust used flax she had grown and processed.

I had to interpret for one entry in the exhibition, a monksbelt table runner by Laura Demuth. It was displayed near the table where staff were stationed.  When visitors read the label, they looked up at me and raised eyebrows or asked, “Why is it thanks to you?”  Laura didn’t provide any explanation for the public, but I’m happy to share the story here.  As Laura was planning a beginning weaving class for Vesterheim, she came to get ideas from the collection.  She had decided on monksbelt and wondered what we had.  We had several beautiful, but basic monksbelt coverlets, so I pulled a more “advanced” one at the end.  From Lila Nelson’s personal collection, we have a monksbelt coverlet with four-sided border. The weaver changed from green on the edge to red for the center, while making a zigzag line between colors.  It was the perfect challenge for an experienced weaver.  I say thanks to Laura, and all the artists who helped make the 2017 exhibition a beautiful and inspirational show.  

As a Gold Medal weaver, Laura’s piece was not part of the judging.  She was on the other side of the table, serving as a judge for the exhibition, along with Doug Eckheart, Professor of Art (retired) from Luther College, Decorah, IA. Laura’s piece was still in the running for the annual “People’s Choice” award, and she won! 

A blue ribbon was awarded to Corwyn Knutson, Roseville, MN,  for “Nordlys,”  wool Rya wall hanging. It was also awarded BEST OF SHOW. Congratulations, Corwyn. 

 

Donna Laken, from Rockford, IL,won a red ribbon for “Simply Scandinavian,” a rug in bound rosepath. 

A white ribbon was awarded to Kathryn Evans from Lena, IL, for a slit tapestry wall hanging.   Slit tapestry is usually found in narrower bands. Her finishing techniques were original and beautiful, as seen in this detail. 

 

Winnie Johnson received an honorable mention for her boundweave rug. 

Helen Scherer, from Shawnee, KS, received an Honorable Mention for “When I grow up, I want to be like the Døvleteppe!,”  a table runner in Vestfold technique.

Andrea Myklebust, Stockholm, WI, won an Honorable Mention for her linen table runner in block Damask technique.  Andrea should get extra points for also displaying a carved distaff in the exhibition, writing, “I made this distaff for use on one of my spinning wheels. I’ve included a hank of my own hand-spun flax, which is the material used for this tool. It is an arrogant distaff because it is very tall to show off my long line flax.” 

 

See entries from Vesterheim Gold Medal weavers and other entrants in this year’s exhibition, here

 

 

 
 

 

 

Book Review: The Warp-Weighted Loom

book-coverThe Warp-Weighted Loom, by Hildur Hákonardóttir, Elizabeth Johnston, Marta Kløve Juuhl, Edited by Randi Andersen and Atle Ove Martinussen

(This book can be purchased through the bookstore of the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum.)

By Wendy Sundquist

I love books that turn out to be more than what you originally expected them to be.  The Warp-Weighted Loom is one of those books.  Over the years I have seen exquisitely fine fabric that Elizabeth Johnston has woven on the standing loom at Old Scatness in Shetland.  I was able to handle the vararfeldur that Marta Kløve Juulh had in her possession on the Vesterheim Textile Tour in 2011.  It was remarkably soft and lightweight, fitting into a cloth shopping bag.  After these experiences, I was really looking forward to this new book.

This interdisciplinary book is a product of the main three authors’ research and weaving in collaboration with the Osterøy Museum and The Museum Center in Hordaland and others. It serves in part as a way to transfer and preserve the skills and knowledge within this traditional craft, which are truly our intangible cultural heritage.

book-spineThe Warp-Weighted Loom is bound in a manner that is reminiscent of a bound book from the Middle Ages, with thick cardboard covers and no spine.  The section-sewn binding makes this book incredibly accessible for reading and as a tool for instruction at the loom.

The book is written primarily in English and is divided into 3 sections.  Part 1 is an introduction to the 1000 year history of the warp-weighted loom told by Hákonardóttir, Johnston and Kløve Juuhl from their individual country’s perspectives of Iceland, Shetland and Norway.  Part 2 is a practical handbook that includes how to make, operate and weave on a standing loom.  This section includes detailed photos, and step-by-step instructions that are written in English, Icelandic and Norwegian.  It also covers some of the textiles traditionally produced on these looms, how to reproduce them, and an overview of spinning.  Part 3 is dedicated to research on a broad range of topics by several different authors.  Topics include The Loom in the Grave, Icelandic Textiles, Finishing Cloth in the Sea, Taatit Rugs, Weaving in the Dark, Safeguarding an Intangible Cultural Heritage and more.

The Warp-Weighted Loom is a remarkable book on so many levels.  It undertakes the preservation of women’s history as it relates to weaving and wadmal production within the North Atlantic cultural heritage.  But more importantly, it recognizes and addresses that the “knowledge of old crafts will be lost, if not maintained; the only way to do so is to conserve them, promote them and teach them.” (Sigridur Sigurdardottir p. 267)

This book is a must have for any serious weaver or student of Nordic textiles.  It is a joy!

Wendy Sundquist is a knitter, spinner, natural dyer, and weaver with a life-long passion for Scandinavian textiles.  She currently shepherds a geriatric flock of Shetland sheep on Whidbey Island in Washington state.

A Synopsis of the History of Norwegian Tapestry – and Some Thoughts about Tapestry Today

Editor’s note:  The text of this article, by noted artist Unn Sønju, first appeared in a special issue of the Norwegian magazine, Lokalhistorisk magasin (Local History Magazine).  The special double issue, 1-2, 2016, was devoted to articles on the theme of “Kunst og Husflid” (“Art and Handcraft”).

By Unn Sønju

Any weave is the interaction between the masculine warp and the feminine weft that create a cross, an ancient symbol for creation. Tapestry is one of the oldest art forms know to man. Unlike other two-dimensional art forms it has the unique property of having the image on both sides of the material. Only the simplest tools are required to weave on short or long lengths of warp.

 The Oseberg tapestry fragments

Norway is fortunate in having tapestries from different periods in its history. Through these we can learn a great deal of social and art history, and last but not least, women’s history. The oldest pictorial weaves were found in the Oseberg Viking ship, buried around 850 and excavated in 1904, near Tønsberg in Vestfold. About this find, Bjørn Hougen wrote in 1940, “Tapestry and woodcarving, in these two words lies the starting point for an entirely new perspective that the Oseberg ship has given to the art history of the Viking Age.”

Oseberg fragment, Universitets Oldsaksamling, Oslo

Oseberg fragment, Universitets Oldsaksamling, Oslo

From the first, the woodcarvings were treated with great respect, while the tapestry fragments received shamefully poor treatment. The tapestry fragments were in poor condition, appearing almost black and encased in clay and feathers, pressed together into lumps. During restoration it appeared that they were between 16 and 32 centimetres in height and thought to have been hung as long strips.

As early as 1916 four volumes of all the Oseberg finds were planned. Three volumes of all the finds, excluding the textiles, came in quick succession; the fourth on textiles took nearly 100 years before it was published in 2006. However in 1992, The Oseberg Queen’s Grave: Our national Treasure in a New Light (Osebergdronningens grav-vår nasjonal skatt i nytt lys) was published. Anne Stina Ingstad wrote that the textiles found in the burial chamber of the Oseberg ship are “without comparison in Nordic pre-history.” She points out that the tapestry fragments are by far the most important examples of the collection. With such a history isn’t it strange that these tapestries have been so overlooked and exhibited so infrequently?

Baldisol Tapestry

Baldishol

Baldishol Tapestry. Image from Wikipedia: https://no.wikipedia.org/wiki/Baldisholteppet

The next outstanding work is the Baldisol tapestry from circa 1200. After the demolition of the Baldisol church in 1887 an auction of the contents of the old church was held. An observant woman bought a dirty roll of textiles that she soon found were something extraordinarily special. With utmost care she washed the textiles, revealing images of two calendar months: May representing a man in a long smock sowing seed, and April as a young warrior in full armour riding a virile stallion. Both are depicted in an archway with a decorative background of birds and spots. The tapestry is torn at either end, indicating it could be part of a larger work, perhaps the whole calendar year. In all likelihood it was a long frieze, a beautiful tapestry in the Romanesque style. What is it that is so amazingly enchanting about the Baldisol tapestry? Its strength and clarity of colour and the total wholeness of its drawing and composition gives us a compelling image. With some knowledge of Romanesque art we can imagine how the other months might have been depicted. If we imagine a tapestry of twelve months length it may have been woven for Hamar Cathedral that was completed around 1200.

The Middle Ages

Adoration of the Magi, signed M.I.D & A.H.D, Gudbrandsdal

“Adoration of the Magi,” signed M.I.D & A.H.D, Gudbrandsdal

Between the Baldisol tapestry and 1550 there exists no evidence of Norwegian tapestries. This was a period of great hardship with 60% of the population dying of the plague, resulting in the collapse of society.

It was in the Middle Ages that many of Europe’s finest tapestries were created. Only long after this great interest for tapestry had reached is zenith there, did it eventually come to Norway, where the golden age of tapestry occurred between 1550 and 1850.

Norway had neither a tradition nor interest for painting and sculpture as in other countries in Europe, but tapestry flowered! Interest and knowledge of tapestry came first to the coastal towns and gradually spread to the rest of the country. In the eastern districts around Kristiania (now Oslo) figurative motifs were common, many from bible stories. On the west coast of Norway tapestry developed abstract and geometric imagery, while north from Trondheim ‘rya’, a tufted weave, was common that was well suited for bedspreads at home and on their fishing vessels. The Sami people had their own ‘grenvev’, literally ‘branch weave’ or weaving over a tree branch, making dynamic striped black and white tapestries.

Because Norway was a poor land that had neither a royal court nor aristocracy, women were given the opportunity to weave in small workshops. In the great tapestry workshops in Europe women were not invited to weave but could spin, tie loose threads and sweep the floors. In Norway it was an opposite situation. It was women who were the weavers, which led to a charming difference as their tapestries became more and more removed from their original prototypes. These female weavers created tapestries where women were the central motif, often derived from biblical sources.

An abstracted version of the Wise and Foolish Virgins woven by an unknown woman in Western Norway between 1750 and 1800. http://samling.nasjonalmuseet.no/no/object/OK-17392

An abstracted version of the Wise and Foolish Virgins woven by an unknown woman in Western Norway between 1750 and 1800. http://samling.nasjonalmuseet.no/no/object/OK-17392

New Flowering for Norwegian Tapestry

After 1850 tapestries were seen as being old fashioned and uninteresting as painting and sculpture became the leading art forms. At the end of the century there was a growing interest in Norwegian nationalism and folk culture renewing interest in the old tapestries. These tapestries were exhibited in museums and galleries at home and abroad and this encouraged a new interest in weaving and tapestry. Weavers who previously were anonymous were now known by their own name and were recognised in society as artists. Frida Hansen was the first who received international recognition, followed by Hannah Ryggen, Synnøve Anker Aurdal, Jan Groth and an increasing number of tapestry artists since the 1970s.

Hannah Ryggen. "Vi Lever på en Stjerne." ("We Live on a Star")

Hannah Ryggen. “Vi Lever på en Stjerne.” (“We Live on a Star”)

Today there are a large number of artists who have chosen tapestry as their prime form of expression. Tapestry is a natural part of the Norwegian and international art scene that becomes continually broader in its scope of media and expression due to education and advances in technology. Today a tapestry can be totally realised from idea to finished product by the use of data programming. A fine example of this is the theatre curtain designed by Pae White in the Opera House in Oslo. Today tapestries are to be found in many public buildings the world over, as indeed are books, showing the work of outstanding tapestry artists. Large group and travelling exhibitions bring to the public the latest ideas and developments in tapestry art. In Norway in the 1960-70s tapestry was much sought after and now, in the past few years, there is renewed and exciting interest.

To renew an old craft is both a challenge and a responsibility. If tapestry no longer mirrors and reflects its contemporary society it soon loses any interest and quickly becomes neglected and indifferent. Tapestry, like all visual art, can be divided into three stages: idea, craft and form/presentation that must work together for a convincing totality. The idea is the springboard and energy, through craft and technique the idea becomes an object, and the form is the final presentation.

Thread on thread, patience and concentration, such is the artist’s wonder and experience in the creation of a tapestry.

Translation of the original article from Lokalhistorisk magasin was provided by the author, Unn Sønju.
Unn Sønju was born in 1938 in Oslo, Norway; she currently lives and works in Oslo and Flesberg, Norway. She was educated at Leeds College of Art, England (1957-59) and the Women’s Industrial School, Norway (1960-62). She was a lecturer in Experimental Textiles in the Department of Fine Art in Leeds from 1965-77, and Tapestry Professor at Oslo University College from 1999-2005. She has been featured in 32 solo exhibitions in Scandinavian and Great Britain, and participated in over 100 group exhibitions worldwide. 39 of her tapestries appear in public spaces.
Learn more about the author’s work in tapestry in another article in this issue:, “Influences in my Art: Reflections,” and at her website, unnsonju.com.