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2022 Ribbon Winners from the Annual Exhibition of Weaving in the Norwegian Tradition

From the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum press release, Summer 2022:

Six weavers were awarded ribbons in the annual “National Norwegian-American Folk Art Exhibition” at Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum and Folk Art School. The exhibit was on display from July 2 -July 30, 2022.

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum

The exhibition also included knifemaking, metalworking, rosemaling, and woodworking categories. Vesterheim, which has some of the most outstanding examples of decorative and folk art in the nation, established the rosemaling exhibition in 1967 and added weaving, woodworking, knifemaking, and metalworking in later years. 

Each year judges award blue, red, and white ribbons representing points that accumulate over successive exhibitions toward a Vesterheim Gold Medal. Judges also present Honorable Mention and Best of Show Awards and the public votes for People’s Choice Awards. 

Judges this year for weaving were Mary Skoy, master weaver from Edina, Minnesota; Robbie LaFleur, Gold Medal weaver from Minneapolis, Minnesota; and Rachelle Branum, art educator from Decorah, Iowa.

Kathleen Almelien, Washington, IA.  “Granddaughter’s Confirmation” Blue Ribbon

Kathleen Almelien is an artist/teacher from Washington, Iowa.  She began investigating the process/product of band weaving in 2016.   Kathleen has become interested in reading the Norwegian emoji’s that are woven into this historic rope.

“Granddaughter’s Confirmation”

The 120“ long band is ⅝” wide and was produced on a rigid heddle.  My rigid heddle is held in a West Telemark vertical loom. The tape is made in 5 colors of Vavstuga 20/2 wool and 2 colors of perle cotton.

I was inspired to make my granddaughter’s conformation belt to protect her from harm. The protection is historically strengthened by the giving of one generation to the next.

I produced this pattern from a historic collection of motifs published by Magnahid Peggy Jones Gilje in her book Woven Treasures, published in 2020. 

The word waist translates from Norwegian as ”life.“  Historically wrapping the apron band around the waist not once but twice gives a doubling of protection. The first “barrier” at the end of the band is a woven checkerboard, used for protection from nightmares. Then St. Anders cross/ humility. Finally, the heart/ the center of life’s functions represents the soul of the being and means everything positive – such as love, warmth and good feelings.  The heart emotes falling in love/being in love. I wish all of this for her future.

Kathleen Almelien, Washington, IA. “Oseberg Endless Sign Band” Red Ribbon

“Oseberg Endless Sign Band”

The 120“ long band is ⅝” wide. The band is made in six colors of Vavstuga 20/2 wool and two colors of cotton. The rope has three areas of design. The  four reds and white mid-band is woven with a warp of no 10 cotton and 13 “pick up“ yarns. The band’s length, 120″, is divisible by both three and four, which are Norwegian power numbers that protect from evil. It also uses the number three in the pick-up pattern.

The inspiration for this intertwined protective pattern came from the treasure trove of the Oseberg burial ship (carbon dated to 850 AD).  The double wall of zig zag is to catch and hold evil.  This emoji is reminiscent of sharp teeth or saw blades.

The band’s colors are equally important: 

Green: spring /renewal /promise,
Gold: the sun for warmth /growth/ hope/wealth
Red: the color of life and blood.

The rope has three areas of design.  The strengthening edges consist of three cotton warp and 3 colors of yarn to weave  the ”goats hoof” pattern distinct to the region of  Telemark.  

 

Carol Culbertson, Evansville, WI. “Diamonds Galore” Honorable Mention

“Diamonds Galore”

After weaving for 25 years, I taught myself Norwegian traditional weaving techniques 7 years ago. Since then, I have taken 3 weaving classes at Vesterheim’s Folk Arts School, learning how to expand and improve my weaving skills.

My inspiration for this piece comes from weavings I saw while taking a weaving class in 2018 and the celebration of our 60th wedding anniversary. It was most enjoyable putting together the colors and different elements.

Carol Culbertson, Evansville, WI. “Chris’s View” Red Ribbon

“Chris’s View”

Warp: Patons “Grace” 4 ply 100% cotton spun to an overtwist

My great-grandfather’s memories of his home in Vik i Sogn, Norway, inspired this weaving. When asked what he remembered most about Norway, he replied, “the mountains and fjords.” As I stood by his home in Vik and looked towards the harbor, this is what I saw – his view every day from his home. The two 16 1/2″ X 23″ panels are displayed in side by side “windows.”

Laura Demuth, Decorah, IA. “Two Long Winters” People’s Choice Award

I live on a small acreage just eight miles from Decorah, and have been weaving since the late 1970’s. I weave using mostly Norwegian techniques which I have learned in Vesterheim classes with inspiration from the textile collection.

This wall hanging was woven using 12/6 cotton seine for the warp and Rauma Prydvevgarn for the weft.

In 2017, my husband gifted me with a 60 inch wide Glimakra tapestry loom. I wanted to weave at least one piece on the loom that made use of its entire width. Woven using the Rutevev technique, the finished piece measures approximately 56″x71″.

Helen Scherer, Shawnee, KS. “Skis and Rails” White Ribbon

“Skis and Rails”

As a weaving hobbyist, I enjoy a variety of handlooms and traditional Norwegian weaving techniques for clothing fabrics and home textiles. My mother taught me the basics, but I continue to learn from many different resources.

This 25″x41″ skillbragd wall hanging was woven with thin 30/2 and 24/2 unbleached cotton for the background and mostly dark red, blue and green 6/2 Spælsau wool for the pattern weft.

“Skillbragd” means “shed weave” and is characterized by pattern weft floats over a plain weave background. Vertical background stripes are commonly seen with this technique, but the pattern is difficult to achieve without a rather unusual loom setup. On a countermarch loom, I used a group of four shafts for the ground separated by a few inches from a group of four shafts for the pattern. Each warp end was threaded through one ground heddle and above the eyes of from zero to four pattern heddles.

“Skis and Rails” is a traditional woven wall hanging in memory of my father, who enjoyed skiing and worked as a railroad roadmaster. The design was inspired by combining elements from a variety of old coverlet patterns in the “skillbragd” technique.

Sandra Somdahl, Decorah, IA. “Stars and Rosettes” Red Ribbon

“Stars and Rosettes”

I’ve been weaving for over 20 years but fell in love with the Norwegian techniques, yarn and colors. Living close to Vesterheim has given me easy access to classes and old Scandinavian woven pieces to use for inspiration.

The weft is linen and the warp is Norwegian Rauma Prydvevgarn.

Inspiration comes from a late 18th century piece from Sweden, possibly a south western province.

Wendy Stevens, Decorah, IA. “Firestorm Sunrise” Blue Ribbon

“Firestorm Sunrise”

I have been weaving since 1976 when I took an adult education class in beginning weaving on a rigid heddle frame loom and must admit that I was amazed to realize that I was making cloth.   I have also taken classes at Vesterheim in tapestry technique from Lila Nelson and in danskbrogd from Jan Mostrom and discovered that I enjoy the detail that both techniques require.  I am a member of the Oneota Weavers Guild and enjoy the sharing and encouragement within that group.

I wove Firestorm Sunrise in the winter of 2020 when devastating wildfires were sweeping across Australia. I chose single interlocking tapestry to show the sun rising over the Pacific Ocean.  Danskbrogd technique allowed depiction of the sun’s rays both reflecting from the ocean surface and radiating out into the smoke-filled sky showing the beautiful yet terrifying atmospheric changes that accompany wildfire.  High overhead flocks of birds, the only living animals that were able to escape, are making their way to new lands.

Following in Lila Nelson’s footsteps, I would like this weaving to reflect the beauty of nature as well as make a political statement.   I hope that the viewer will come away from this weaving with a renewed sense of urgency to address climate change by government, business and  individuals.

Firestorm Sunrise was woven in honor of and respect for my son, Thomas T. Stevens, who has been a wild land firefighter for over 20 years.

Lisa Torvik, St. Paul, MN. “Hordaland 3rd Generation.” Blue Ribbon and Best of Show

“Hordaland 3rd Generation”

My first weaving project was on a loom at home.  As a teenager, I took backstrap weaving from Lila Nelson.  I went to Valdres with the first Samband exchange group in 1970, as a museum guide in 1972 and a weaving student in husflidsskule all of 1974.

This is a transparent inlay weaving based on the traditional borders of a Hordaland coverlet.  The materials are primarily 16/2 Swedish linen, unbleached and colored, and some perle cotton.

When I was at Valdres Husflidsskule, our weaving teacher showed us a Hordaland coverlet she had woven when she was a student.  A classmate and I studied and drew its borders, shot for shot, on graph paper.  I used that as the pattern to reproduce the piece in half-width.  Last year, there was a couple meters of warp left on my loom from my Baldishol show piece so I was inspired to weave it down using my Hordaland tapestry as the model.  Starting at the bottom, I wove inlaid borders with the same shot-for-shot pattern until I ran out of warp.  This is why I call it “third generation.” (See: Three “Generations” of an Old Hordaland Weaving Design)

Vesterheim, the National Norwegian-American Museum and Folk Art School, welcomes people of all ages and backgrounds to engage in the conversation of the American immigrant journey through the lens of the Norwegian-American experience. Vesterheim offers innovative and interactive exhibits, classes, and programs, both at the dynamic campus and park in scenic Decorah, Iowa, and online at vesterheim.org and Vesterheim social media.
Help support wonderful articles on Scandinavian textiles with a donation to the Norwegian Textile Letter. Thank you! Tusen takk! 

Nordic Notes

Historian and artist Steph Anderson presented an hour-long exploration of Viking era clothing and jewelry in a webinar from Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum, Viking Era Clothing and Jewelry. From tunics and cloaks to arm rings, necklaces, and brooches, Vikings dressed according to sex, age, and economic status. Steph is deeply knowledgeable and clearly passionate about her topic; she spoke for an hour, but clearly could have talked much longer (and I would have listened).

Webinar screen shot

Hannele Köngas, a Finnish Weaver

Hannele Köngas features naturally dyed, hand-woven Finnish wool on her beautiful site, Waveweaver’s Wool. Don’t miss the page featuring her throws to see amazing arrays of color.  I loved watching a video of her dyeing process. Even though it is only in Finnish, you can follow her dyeing with woad; it felt like a cliffhanger – what colors will emerge?

From the Waveweaver’s Wool website: https://www.waveweaverswool.fi/exhibitions/

Interviews and Articles from The Vessel Magazine

From Norwegian Crafts: “This year we celebrate Norwegian Crafts’ 10th anniversary! In 2012 the organisation was founded by the Norwegian Association for Arts and Crafts (NK). Two years prior to this, NK had started Norwegian Crafts Magazine, an online magazine with the main purpose to promote the activities of Norwegian craft artists internationally…On the occasion of Norwegian Crafts’ 10th anniversary, we have published a special issue of The Vessel titled Norwegian Craft Magazine Revisited. The issue presents a selection of 45 interviews and articles on craft written by 32 contributors, all of which have been previously published on Norwegian Crafts’ website or as part of Norwegian Crafts Magazine.”

Be sure to check out the Textile Art collection of articles in the special issue. There is also a Discover page to find articles that have been published over the years: It includes a tag specifically for weaving. The feature photo below is from “Hannah Ryggen’s Popularity.”

Virtual Lecture on Norwegian Woven Bands

Join folk artist Kathleen Almelien as she explains the use of symbols in bandweaving, the “emojis” of their time. The online lecture, “Symbols in Bandweaving: The Emojis of Traditional Handcraft with Kathleen Almelien,” is available on the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum YouTube channelAlmelien highlights her own bands as well as those in Vesterheim’s collection and draws parallels with the symbols used in other traditional Norwegian handcrafts. Woven bands played an important role in traditional Norwegian clothing. Used to close or support clothing (the way we use zippers, buttons, and snaps), they also added beauty and interest to clothing. Additionally, the symbols woven into the band communicated that the person came from a particular area of Norway and imbued the band with meaning to the wearer.

Exhibits

Evocative embroidery fills the galleries at the Galleri Dropsfabrikken in Trondheim from October 29-November 22, 2022, in Kari Steihaug – Potetbøtta og parfymen [Kari Steihaug: Potato Buckets and Perfume]. From the introduction:

In Kari Steihaug’s art, the overlooked plays a major role. That which has been set aside, the unfinished and the worn, is lovingly brought to light.

The materials she has worked with include worn clothing, faded curtains, discarded blankets, unfinished knitting projects, and bits of glass from the beach. She takes them, or brings them forth, and puts them together in new combinations. By embracing the imperfect the work becomes a counterweight to our time’s galloping consumer culture. (translated by Robbie LaFleur)

Photo taken from the Dropsgallieret website.

Articles about Weaving

In case you need a reminder about the wonderful textile collection at Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum, here is a short article that appeared in Handwoven magazine several years ago, in 2015. I though it was worth revisiting, partly because of a photo of a tavlebragd weaving (monks belt) with black as the background color. It was woven in the mid-1800s, but looks as modern as today. Read “A Link to the Past,” by Anita Osterhaug.

 

Have you seen Landskap, this monumental tapestry in the Parliament building in Oslo? Norwegian weaving instructor Ingebjørg Monsen once commented that it is on television more than any other tapestry in Norway, as it hangs outside the chambers, where TV reporters stand and wait for interviews with legislators. Read about the artist, Syssel Blystad, in “Norway’s Goddess of Modern-Day Textile Arts” by Victoria Hofmo, The Norwegian American, July 29, 2021 (Updated Oct. 18, 2021).

 

Viking Women

Viking women are featured on the cover of Scientific American: “The Power of Viking Women,” Scientific American, October 2022, pp. 28-35. The article is also available online.

Nille Glæsel from Tønsberg, Norway, has been researching Viking clothing for years, and she was recently tapped to work on the costuming for Robert Egger’s Viking-themed movie, The Northman.” Read more about Glæsel and the weaving-related references in the movie in this blog post of mine, “Authentic Viking Clothing in The Northman.”

Does Nicole Kidman understand what she is doing, or just moving the cards? A fuzzy screen shot from “The Northman.”

A Non-Textile Film

This short film featured on the New York Times Op-Docs site is so well done: Svonni v. the Swedish Tax Agency, by Maria Fredriksson, October 18, 2022. Will Svonni be able to convince the Swedish tax authorities that her dog is a legitimate tax deduction, necessary to the care of her reindeer?

Screenshot from Svonni v. the Swedish Tax Agency

Thank you to everyone who helps support the Norwegian Textile Letter with donations to cover expenses. Your financial support is crucial. Thank you for being a subscriber! 

For those who would like to donate, here’s an easy link.

Between Two Covers: A Book and an Exhibition Celebrate the Artistry of Renowned Weaver, Brita Been

By Stephanie Serrano Sundby. Thank you to author and the publishers of Kunsthåndverk, the magazine for Norwegian Association for Arts and Crafts, for permission to reprint this article.

Be steadfast, work hard, follow your heart and tell your own story, advises Brita Been. Stephanie Serrano Sundby has taken a trip to Skien to meet Been, who this year celebrates her 75th birthday with a book publishing and exhibition at the Telemark Kunstsenter [Telemark Arts Center].

Brita been portrait

Brita Been in front of Tre strømper & et bringebroderi, 2020. (detail) (Three Stockings and a Costume Embroidery) 410 x 200 cm. (13’5″ x 6’7″) From the exhibit MØNSTER OVERALT (PATTERN UNLIMITED), 2022. Telemark Kunstsenter. Photo: Istvan Virag

“[Brita Been] creates her tapestries with a basis in the technique’s underlying structure, the grid.  From this she constructs and composes patterns that spread in rhythmic layers over the surface.  The patterns have an eternal quality, without beginning and without end. But the colors and contour lines work to hold the patterns fast; in a literal sense the pattern is woven firmly to the warp. This creates an inner tension in Breen’s textiles: on the one hand the pattern’s endless, indistinct and eternal character; on the other, the tangible passage of threads over and under the warp.”

This excerpt was written by art historian Jorunn Haakestad and can be found in Been’s exhibition catalog from 2007. The text describes Been’s artistic expression, which lies between tradition and repetition, modernistic elements, form and color. At the same time, the quote testifies to Been’s important role within the fields of art and handcraft. This year Been is celebrating her 75th birthday with a book publication and an exhibition at the Telemark Kunstsenter, both having the title Mønster Overalt [Pattern Unlimited] (2022).  The book is a monograph on Been’s artistry over 50 years, and the exhibition includes everything from large works of tapestry to sketches, prints and shawls.

Brita Been exhibit

Gallery view of the exhibition PATTERN UNLIMITED, 2022, Telemark Kunstsenter.
Photo: Istvan Virag

I took the train to Skien to talk with Been about weaving, about her journey and about folk art. She offered to meet me at the station. I saw her immediately, as she came walking in a bright orange Marimekko coat that lighted up the grey station tunnel. We drove to the Arts Center and Been showed me around in the exhibition. She told me about different weaving techniques, showed me guinea hen feathers, we touched the colorful shawls and she showed me an old embroidered stocking, her favorite, loaned from the Telemark Museum. Finally, we sat down in the art lab for a chat over coffee and croissants.

Brita Been, Shawls in plain weave and dreielteknikk [patterned twill or damask]. Photo from the exhibit PATTERN UNLIMITED, 2022, Telemark Kunstsenter. Photo: Istvan Virag

Can you begin by saying a little about how you discovered weaving and your path towards being an artist?

I had a grandmother who wove, and I remember that I got to sit on the loom bench, insert the rags into a rag rug, and that I was curious about how the heddles worked. At home there was knitting, sewing, crocheting, filet crochet and embroidery. Lots of yardage and skeins of yarn. I often say that certainly one can experience all this without ending up as a textile artist. The most important thing was likely that I got a feeling for textile materials, and that I wanted to produce something, make something myself. In addition, I was raised in the period after the war, and for many this type of work was a natural part of daily life: self made was well made.

After high school I applied for a yearlong course in weaving at the husflidsskole [handcraft school], and one of the requirements was that I first had to take a yearlong course in sewing, which I did not want to do. It didn’t suit me, as you can probably tell when you look at the rather rough quality of my work. So I became a hotel and tourism secretary, but that was just for a short while. I soon realized that I wanted to learn to weave, so by 1979 I was a fully qualified teacher in weaving and tapestry. I worked in a high school until 1999, but the entire time I had a desire to create things myself. 

Before I began my teacher’s training, I lived in the Bergen area. At that time, I had completed a yearlong course in weaving and was an auditor at the Bergen Kunsthåndverkskole [Bergen School of Arts and Crafts]. After that I wove rag rugs in large format, ponchos and cloth for shirts made from straight [not-shaped] pieces.  In addition to my job as a weaving teacher, I began the textile production we see today. I participated in exhibitions as well as becoming a member of Norske Kunshåndverkere [Norwegian Craft Artists] and later also Norske Tekstilkunstnere [Norwegian Textile Artists]. After a while I thought it would be nice to divide my time between teaching and my own artistic production. I still had the responsibilities of house and children, so there was no point in seeking a guaranteed income (GI), because of course I had to earn this money.  I continued my artwork on the side, and participated in annual and regional exhibitions.  I received GI in 1996, and then I could begin to reduce my teaching. At that time, weaving had begun to be phased out in the high schools, so I taught pattern, design, and color. All the while I was active with exhibitions and decorative commissions, and in that way it was a natural transition to the artist’s life. In the beginning I didn’t really have any intention of working as a fulltime artist, it was something that developed over time, but I have always felt the need for my weavings to have their own expression, with a value beyond just being a textile.  Whether placed on the floor or on the wall: art for the floor, art for the wall.

Could you describe your work process, has it changed through the years?

My earlier work is much more geometric, because I’m not really a sketch artist, but I love to create patterns and surface designs. After a trip to Africa in 1989 my work became more organic. How one develops is often dependent on the circumstances that come your way. If I hadn’t had that trip, perhaps I would have continued with geometric forms a while longer, but then surely something else would have come along and taken my work in a new direction.

Brita Been’s sketches on display at the exhibit PATTERN UNLIMITED, 2020. Telemark Kunstsenter. Photo: Istvan Virag

My latest series, Arvestykker [Pieces of Inheritance] has also contributed to changing the way I work. It was new for me to weave without having decided everything in advance. It seemed that the patterns in these sketches required something else from me, something other than the strictly separate pattern areas I had worked with previously. For the first time I copied the sketches in color and in full format as a pattern placed under the weaving, not just as contour lines like before. That is to say, although the main strokes of the drawing were there, I could change the details as I was working on the weaving. This gave me more room for improvisation, and I could adjust color and form as I wove. It also brought about a transition from fewer colors to many colors, with the possibility for several nuances within one color. The later years have also seen a transition from geometric compositions to more organic forms. Earlier there was much repetition in my textiles, but in later works that’s not the case, now the pattern is the entire textile. Of course, a work process will always be developing.

Brita Been, Strømpe (Stocking), 2021. 200 x 200 cm. (6’7″ x 6’7″) From the exhibit PATTERN UNLIMITED, 2022. Telemark Kunstsenter. Photo: Istvan Virag

You write that Arvestykker is a tribute to women’s work?

In working on a decorative commission for Bø nursing home, I became immersed in the beauty of rose embroidery as the basis for my sketch work.

Brita Been was inspired by traditional rose embroidery on stockings and shirts. Photo: Istvan Virag

I became especially interested in the embroidered stockings for beltestakken [the Telemark bunad]. This rich textile folk art reveals an affluence as well as the desire to create. It was in this work that women gave expression to their creative powers. Much time, effort and patience must have been devoted to this. Textile work was of course a part of daily household chores but there is also a large abundance of these pieces, and it is here where their power is seen. At the same time, it is also as Nina Mauno Schjønsby and Halvor Haugen have written in their contribution to the book, I mønsteret ligger leken [The Pleasure is in the Pattern], that for nearly all textiles, the work is credited as “woman, unknown,” for it is not known who has made them.  I thought that surely some of this work should become visible, so I adapted certain selected pattern details into large works for the wall. In this way one can get at least an idea of what these women have done!

What types of various elements and materials capture your interest?

As a rule, it is the patterns that draw my attention. I see the structure, repetitions and rhythm. I find this in everything, from architecture to nature, fabric, paintings and in folk art. Actually it can be anything and anywhere. I often document my impressions with photos. When I work further with the material, it is exciting to try out different size relationships and selections. With this I am exploring how a pattern can be endlessly varied, by enlarging, reducing, repeating and designing. I think it is exciting to see how use of different colors can change the effect. My work on the horizontal loom, as opposed to the upright loom, is all about repetition, system and order, pattern and structure. That’s just the way I think. When I worked in the high school, I spent 13 years supervising studies; among other things I made lesson plans and established thematic and hourly schedules. Things had to fit, which is probably something I have a preference for. Weavers are systematic, you know.

Brita Been, Mosaic Bright, 2005. 220 x 230 cm. (7’3″ x 7’7″) In the exhibit PATTERN UNLIMITED, 2022. Photo: Istvan Virag

Could you say more about your inspiration and connection to the textile folk arts?

I could point to the series Repitisjoner [Repetitions], which is based on squares and which has a direct link back to the old geometric tapestry coverlets. I hadn’t actually planned that that series would build on old weaving traditions, but I often see these connections after the fact. This is because when you see something, even if you don’t think consciously about it, it makes an impression that you carry with you. By the way, I like to say that I could work with squares for the rest of my life, it is so exciting to make these different combinations.

The Skybragd [Cloud pattern] series also has a connection with an old tradition. Within weaving theory one finds many different bragder [methods], such as tavlebragd, rosebragd, krokbragd, sjonbragd, og skillbragd, [various types of overshot, boundweave and inlay] but these are threading patterns, or techniques. Skybragd, on the other hand, is not a technique but a pattern. It migrated over time from the Orient. The pattern probably started as the profile of a lotus blossom, changed to a pomegranate or palmette motif, and on its travels to Scandinavia became what was known as a cloud pattern. This journey is described in a publication from 1969: “Fra granateple til skybragd” [From pomegranate to cloud pattern] by Ernst Fischer. One can, for example, find the cloud pattern in Norwegian coverlets and pillow covers from the 1600 and 1700s. I was in China as a participant in the exhibition Fra Lausanne til Beijing [From Lausanne to Beijing]. On the first visit I was incredibly fascinated by the beautiful carvings in marble, and I took many photos. When I came home, these photos lay unused for many years before I got them out again. After I had completed the series Repitisjoner, I wanted to do something new. When one starts on a new project, one often goes through old material, things one has had in the back of their mind for a long time. It was when I took out these photos from China that the cloud began to crystalize as a shape element. While working with the drawings I thought about titles, I am not so good with titles, but I came to think about an old pillow cover I had seen at the Kunstindustrimuseet [Museum of Decorative Arts and Design] in Oslo, with the skybragd motif. The title was given: “Skybragd.”  Somewhat like the cloud pattern traveled from the Orient to Scandinavia, this became my journey from China to Porsgrunn [in Norway].

Brita Been’s “Skybragd,” as displayed in the exhibition catalog.

I believe that some of what I have observed in so-called “folk art” has remained with me. There is something in its simplicity and power that I think is fascinating. This directness strikes me much more than, say, old classical figurative paintings. It is, of course, wonderful to see the work of the great artists, but I think the transition into modernism is much more exciting, and the abstract, this play in the surface. It is probably the power of “folk art,” the apparently simple style, which interests me. I believe it is because I see things very much in two dimensions, I am not as good at three dimensional thinking. 

You have traveled a lot and have been inspired by, for example, both zebras and guinea hens. How have your travels influenced your artistry?

I don’t quite know, but for example, I found something on my trip to Africa that I wanted to use in my work. The rough, raw African style really appealed to me. This was a watershed trip. I received a travel stipend and was there for five weeks. I had a brother and a colleague who worked in Malawi and Zambia, respectively, who wanted me to visit. I didn’t go there with the intention of coming back with impressions and materials for new textiles, but when you experience and see things that make an impression on you, then you take that with you. I found, for example, many beautiful fabrics, braided rugs and fantastic baskets. The colors in the landscape also made a huge impression. We were on a walking safari where I picked up guinea fowl feathers. Zebras were another favorite, with their patterns from top to toe. These I later adapted into the series Luangwa [in Zambia]. 


Brita Been, Guinea Hen & Zebra, 2017. 109 x 200 cm. (3’7″ x 6’7″) In the exhibit PATTERN UNLIMITED, 2022. Photo: Istvan Virag

In the exhibition one sees selected works, but also sketches over your lengthy professional life. In the book one gets a comprehensive overview of all your textiles. How has it been to work with the exhibition and the book? Do you see any new ‘red threads’ [commonalities]?

Photo: Istvan Virag

I have a good perspective over my work, textiles are after all a time-consuming enterprise. Nonetheless, through the book I see that I’ve produced a relatively large volume of work. Everything becomes clear. The development in artistry comes forth, and the continuity in the work is clarified. Actually, the book represents a weaver’s life set between two covers.

But my ‘red threads’ are in fact black! If you look at the index at the back of the book, you can see my entire production of textiles in chronological order. The very first textile has no black in it, but in all the others I’ve used black as one of the colors. Black brings forth the other colors and makes them clearer, while at the same time black can help to emphasize shapes. So it has been natural for me to use black, it is sort of like my ‘thing.’ Likely because I see that I most often have used strong, relatively clear colors. The patterns are distinct and clear, and the somewhat rough quality is also characteristic.

Working with the book has been quite exciting and very demanding. A year and a half ago, in fact, I was asked why I hadn’t created a book, but my answer was that it was too big a job, someone else would have to do it. Three months later I received the assurance of this exhibition at Telemark Kunstsenter.The Kunstnerisk Råd [Artistic Council] put the entire facility at my disposal on the occasion of my 75th birthday, and they took the initiative for publishing a book. Naturally I was greatly appreciative that they wished to present my long artistic career in this manner.It is very nice to have such a large exhibition, where you have the opportunity to show several sides of all that you’ve sat and worked on in the studio. The documentation of what one has done shows both the development and the range within your own work. It hit me, “Wow, am I the one who did all this?!”

It has been a good collaboration with the Telemark Kunstsenter, especially regarding the manager, Hilde Tørdal. All who have taken part in the exhibition and the book have been both capable and positive. Another exciting thing about the book has been to see what others write about your work and give that a second look. In other words, others see connections that may not be as clear to you. One can learn from this.

What do you think about developments in the textile profession, do you have any advice for new textile artists?

Interest in textiles is on the rise again in the art world. For my part, I notice that there is great respect for being knowledgeable in a handcraft, even among the younger artists. Unfortunately, such capability is not being advanced in education today, but there are many clever young people who do this in their own way. Every generation creates for themselves, making new things that build on those that we, their elders, have created. Things change over time, and it is good to observe that the textile arts appear to have a future, but of course in a completely different way than it was for my generation. If I should give any advice, which is a little difficult, it would be that they must have passion, have belief in what they are doing. Be steadfast, work hard, follow your heart and tell your own story.

Translated by Katherine Larson, Department of Scandinavian Studies, University of Washington

Editor’s note: The original title for the article was “Mine Røde Tråder er jo Sorte,” “My Red Threads are Black.” Been explains that she discovered her “red threads,” or the common elements in her weaving over the years, by working on the book covering her whole career. Then she jokes that her use of black became evident, so her “red thread” turns out to be black. Once you know the Norwegian “red thread” idiom, it’s a very clever title. 

August 2022
Help support wonderful articles on Scandinavian textiles with a donation to the Norwegian Textile Letter. Thank you! Tusen takk! 

Anti-Monument: The 2022 Hannah Ryggen Triennial

By Christine Novotny

I flew into Trondheim on a characteristically foggy and cool day. The mountains surrounding Norway’s third largest city tend to welcome these precipitous systems that give the area a pensive mood. I traveled to Trondheim to see the tapestries of Hannah Ryggen, a weaver who combined folk tradition and more contemporary narrative techniques to create politically charged, humanist tapestries. The Nordenfjeldske Kunstindustrimuseum was hosting the third Hannah Ryggen Triennial, which boasts a variety of art shows all over the city. Each show contains some of Ryggen’s work with a grouping of contemporary artists who are making work in a similar vein, showing that the themes and concepts of Ryggen’s work are universal and still relevant today. 

The 2022 triennial’s theme is “Anti-Monument,” an idea in contemporary art that challenges all aspects of traditional memorials and seeks to deny the presence of a one-sided authoritarian force in public spaces. Hannah’s work is anti-monument in many ways. Ryggen tells the stories of the people, not the authoritarian power. She disempowers dangerous dictators by embarrassing them, or rewriting history all together. In 6. Oktober 1942 (6 October 1942), she weaves a cartoonish Adolf Hitler flying through the air, propelled by his own flatulence. In Ethiopia, she rewrites history by depicting Benito Mussolini with a spear through his head. She weaves the truth as she sees it, from a perspective of universal compassion and a strong anti-fascist disposition. 

I spent 5 days in Trondheim, and seeing each show was the only thing I had planned. I went to some shows multiple times, but I spent the most time with “Anti-Monument I” in the Trondheim Kunstmuseum’s Gråmølna. This show contains the largest number of Ryggen’s original tapestries, interspersed with powerful contemporary pieces. 

The show’s first room centered around Hannah Ryggen’s meaningful tapestry Vi lever på en stjerne (We Are Living on a Star), Ryggen’s love letter to this world, an expression of compassion and faith in humanity. This tapestry was hanging in the Norwegian government center during the 2011 terrorist attack and was permanently altered when the car bomb detonated next to the building. The tapestry took all kinds of abuse, including being hit with debris, and soaked in water during the clearing of the building. The most visible damage was the bottom right corner, where the tapestry was split. During restoration, the decision was made to leave the repair visible, and retain this part of the story in the piece. 

Ryggen, Hannah. “We are Living on a Star.” Photo: Christine Novotny

Everyone who talked to me about the tapestry’s damage referred to it as a “laceration” or a “wound.” Its visible repair was called a “scar.” The descriptions were so bodily, suggesting the piece was not just a tapestry, but an artwork that was very much alive, and now held a new, denser meaning within it. 

Ryggen, Hannah. “We are Living on a Star.” (Detail with visible repairs) Photo: Christine Novotny

In the same room was a stunning installation from Norwegian artist Marthe Minde, entitled Mellom loft og kjellar (Between Attic and Stairs). The sculpture has two oval shaped mirrors with a cascading staircase of branches woven into handspun wool from Minde’s region. The mirrored shapes on the top and bottom of the sculpture are the exact dimensions of the shape that is centered in We Are Living on a Star. Within the shape, there is a passage that the visitor is invited to enter. I saw myself reflected in the mirrors both below and above, surrounded by a thousand delicate handspun threads. The dialogue between Minde and Ryggen seems to suggest that we are still a part of the story being written; we are living within the same kinds of events that drove Hannah to weave these stories. It is a poetic reminder of our participation in this broken and repairing world. 

Minde, Marthe. “Between Attic and Stairs.” Photo: Christine Novotny

Other works included The Prodigal Son, a tapestry commissioned by a church to depict the biblical parable. In the story, a father has two sons, and the younger son asks for his portion of the inheritance, only to squander it away and eventually become destitute. He comes back to his father, expecting scorn. Instead, his father welcomes him back with love and a great party. It is a beautiful story of redemption. 

At some point after Hannah had woven the top half depicting the story, the church withdrew the commission. Ryggen added a panel onto the bottom of the narrative–wide bands of blue and yellow with meandering footstep shapes in knotted rya, presumably the prodigal son wandering in his journey away from home. 

Hannah Ryggen, “Prodigal Son.” Photo: Christine Novotny

The show’s curator, Solveig Lonmo, told me that this tapestry had been more or less forgotten in a lecture hall of the local university, and the museum decided to display it for the show. The day they unrolled the piece at the installation was the day that Putin invaded Ukraine. The blue and yellow portion seemed to speak to the present, and the wandering footsteps to a war-torn nation of people displaced from their homes. It’s another example of Ryggen’s prescient work, and how she continues speaking to us today. 

Also included in the show was a 45-minute video about “Memory Wound,” the proposed memorial for the 69 victims who were murdered in the 2011 terrorist attack on Utoya island. The story of the memorial was told by its creator, Swedish artist Jonas Dahlberg, whose winning design would have cut a channel into the rocky point that looks out onto Utoya. Visitors would be led down a winding path through the forest, and eventually would be led below the surface of the point. Across the channel, they would be met with the names of the victims etched on the stone opposite them. This would provide a quiet place to mourn and turn the gaze inward. 

Dahlberg, Jonas. “Memory Wound (from a video of the proposed memorial)” Photo: Christine Novotny

While the proposal won global acclaim, the memorial was never realized after 20-30 residents in the Utoya region protested its violent nature. In the memorial, Jonas asks which is more violent, the act or the work? How can a country heal when it cannot face the truth? Even though the memorial was never built, the many years of discussion within Norway and the art world, and the circulating design photo of the proposed piece makes it feel like “Memory Wound” exists even though it was never physically built. It seemed incredibly relevant to the United States, where we are reckoning with accepting the often sordid truth of our own country’s making and the present-day violence that is born from our inability to repair that harm. 

The Hannah Ryggen Triennial was full of artwork that challenges our perception of truth, that asks us to explore the humanity behind history, and the stories of those who have been lost. Hannah Ryggen’s work is so powerful because it still effortlessly participates in discourse with the global community, using events that were present to Ryggen, and history that we continue to reckon with. 

Christine Ann Novotny is a Minnesota-based handweaver, educator, and designer who runs the textile studio CAN Goods. She seeks to bring a vibrant, colorful energy to handweaving that invites people to reconsider the textiles in their life, and to evolve the practice of handweaving through contemporary handwoven goods and craft education. 
Read more about Christine’s impression of the Triennial, with additional photos, in the North House Folk School blog post, “Hannah Ryggen Triennial in Trondheim.”
August 2022
Help support wonderful articles on Scandinavian textiles with a donation to the Norwegian Textile Letter. Thank you! Tusen takk! 

 

Socially Distanced, Creatively Connected: A Special Juried Folk Art Exhibition Highlighting Pandemic Creativity

A Special Exhibit at Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum
July 2 to December 31, 2021

“2020 Bunad Mask” by Kathleen Almelien

Carrying forward the spirit and mission of Vesterheim Folk Art School, this exhibition includes  woodworking, rosemaling, knifemaking, blacksmithing, jewelry, weaving, and fiber art.

The artwork follows Norwegian folk-art traditions but also includes contemporary departures from the historical. Although the COVID-19 pandemic has caused many interruptions across the globe, creativity and the freedom of artistic expression has flourished, and the artwork that everyone submitted was inspirational.

The stories behind the artworks are equally interesting. The pandemic offered opportunities to learn a new skill, complete a project that was started some years ago, or celebrate family. Among the 70 pieces in a variety of media, textile makers were well represented. Enjoy their stories here, beginning with quilter Mike Ellingsen, whose piece won a Juror’s Awardcongratulations. A People’s Choice Award will be determined at the end of the show in December. There is plenty of time for a trip to Decorah to make your choice! 

Mike Ellingsen, Decorah, IA
Bergen Fretex 2018

The front of the quilt is pieced cotton fabric with a 100% cotton batting and a 200 thread count muslin back. 

Visiting friends just before the onset of COVID-19, I noticed a woven rutevev (geometric square weave) tapestry on their living room wall. It had been purchased at the Fretex (Salvation Army) store in Bergen, Norway, in 2018. I took a photo for future inspiration. The world then stopped. I designed a quilt based on the photo, and created it totally from fabrics I already owned – no new purchases! The quilting patterns are based on rosemaling designs.

A retired high school choir and drama director, I’ve been quilting for about 40 years. The second floor of our Decorah home is my quilt studio. I am a quilter, pattern designer, lecturer, and teacher – and Minnesota’s 2020-2021 Quilter of the Year.

Laura Berlage, Hayward, WI
Inspired by Rosemaling

This needle felted artwork uses hand dyed wool, from the sheep on my farm, on a felt backing and was inspired by Telemark rosemaling. 

My burgeoning online connections during the pandemic have not only drawn me into the Vesterheim community but also allowed me to connect with fellow instructors and enthusiasts. Vesterheim staff gave me the challenge of creating a piece inspired by some of the artifacts in the collection, and I delightedly partnered with rosemaler Patti Goke to learn about this amazing art form and translate it into felt.

I’ve been working in fiber arts since I was at least eight years old but took up needle felting more recently. The delicate art of the painting with wool invites exploration of techniques and imagery otherwise difficult to capture in fiber.

Robbie LaFleur, Minneapolis, MN
Baldishol Duck

This was woven with open warp transparent tapestry in the style of noted Norwegian artist Frida Hansen using Norwegian spelsau-sheep yarn.

On March 12, 2020, I had woven three inches of this piece for a summer exhibit at Norway House. The imagery includes design elements from the famous Norwegian medieval Baldishol tapestry, and a bird. Two figures in the old tapestry represent April and May. My wood duck represents spring. Would the show even happen? Yes! This duck will forever be tied to uncertainty, social unrest, masks, and social distancing.

I was educated in traditional Norwegian weaving at Valdres Husflidsskole in Fagernes, Norway, in 1977. I received my Vesterheim Gold Medal in 2006. I am coordinator of the Weavers Guild of Minnesota’s Scandinavian Weavers Study Group and publisher of the Norwegian Textile Letter.

Margaret Listug, Stoughton, WI
Shawl for a Sør-Trøndelag Bunad

This is wool yarn embroidery – satin stitch and outline stitch – on wool fabric.

I loved the vivid colors against the black wool. It gave me hope during the dark days of the pandemic and gave me the goal of getting it completed as a daily focus, not the news.

I have been embroidering since I was a child and making Norwegian bunader (national costumes) for over 30 years. I have a degree in Textiles and Clothing from the University of Wisconsin- Madison.

Sharon Moe-Marquardt, Henning, MN
COVID Relief

This is a pillow in rosepath using 16/3 linen warp and a warp of Norwegian Brodergarn and Swedish Faro.

The Scandinavian Weavers Study Group of the Minnesota Weavers Guild are weaving rosepath pillows and many had been using the looms at the Textile Center of Minnesota in Minneapolis. Since I live in greater Minnesota, I proceeded on my own. My interpretation came from a vintage pillow, but I gave mine bright colors as I sat in quarantine for three weeks.

I met Syvilla Tweed Bolson in the early 1990s. I had tried weaving krokbragd (boundweave) from a book, but ran into roadblocks. From my first lesson with Syvilla, I continued to take lessons from her and at Vesterheim with teachers like Lila Nelson and Marta Kløve Juuhl.

Ann Prochowicz, Trempealeau, WI
Wintertide Windows Scarf

This is a handknit “infinity” scarf. It was knit using fingering-weight yarn in a blend of 80% Merino wool and 20% nylon.

Design inspiration came from solitary winter walks in the early morning and late afternoon. Square motifs represent the windows of the houses I pass, as well as the grid-like pattern of the village streets. Sometimes the streets are intersected, hence the shift to diagonal triangles. The colors shift through the blues and purples of stormy winter skies. These motifs are isolated, yet connected.

I taught myself to knit almost 40 years ago, and have been designing for over 30 years. The Nordic influence is so very strong in knitting, and the geometric motifs carry over into other media that I work in, such as weaving, pastels, and sewing.

Rosemary Roehl, St. Cloud, MN
Autumn Delights

This is a wall hanging using the Monks Belt technique. I used Norwegian wool yarn on a linen warp.

I began weaving using the Monks Belt tie-up at the beginning of the pandemic. I hadn’t woven anything using this tie-up for some time. NOW I had plenty of time to redress my loom. I was weaving for myself and continued exploring different combinations of color and patterns until I received my first vaccination on January 18th. It was then time to switch to a different technique and tie-up.

I have been weaving since 1979 after my first visit to Norway and am self taught in the Norwegian tradition. I first entered the National Norwegian-American Folk Art Exhibition in 1983, won my first ribbon in 1986, and won my Gold Medal in 1992. I am a retired teacher.

Beth Rotto, Decorah, IA
Four Decades to Bloom Hooked Rug

This is made from both recycled wool clothing (for the flowers and leaves) and new wool (for the background) on a burlap backing.

Back in the 1970s, I decided to try rug hooking. Esther Miller of Decorah encouraged me, but as sometimes happens with a too-big first project, at some point it was set aside. It was rediscovered in 2020, the perfect thing to do in lock-down. Although not your usual Nordic craft, there are many Norwegian Americans who do it, and making rugs from old clothes is a long-standing tradition in many Norwegian homes.

Like Mom & Grandma, I’ve worked with fibers since childhood, mostly knitting but also dabbling in weaving, klostersøm, rug braiding, felting, and dyeing. When laid off in March 2020, and my music gigs were cancelled, I unearthed some unfinished handwork.

Marit Nelson, White Sulphur Springs, WV
handlinger

This is an appliqued art quilt inspired by Telemark rosemaling. The applique is recycled silk tie material. The background is wool suiting fabric.

I was in a fashion design program in New York City when the pandemic began. I was supposed to have my first fashion show in May. I had collected hundreds of old neckties to repurpose into garments. I started making art quilts with the material, since the fashion show was cancelled. This quilt was inspired by Telemark rosemaling. The phrase handlinger speaks to making your own happiness, because it won’t just happen.

I have always been very interested in my Norwegian heritage and have also always been an avid crafter. Naturally, the two interests collided and I started to teach myself rosemaling when I was around 10 years old.

[Editor’s note: The phrase on the quilt translates to: “Luck isn’t something that already exists; it is created by your own actions.”

Shan Rayray, Puyallup, WA
Spring Tablecloth

This tablecloth is worked in hardangersøm or Hardanger embroidery. DMC pearl cotton threads in pink and white on white Hardanger 22-count fabric.

I wanted to make a tablecloth for entertaining my Norwegian friends. I found this design in a German Hardanger embroidery magazine. I took their basic design and made it my own by changing the stitches of the framework, adding in design to the center squares, extending the center design edges, and adding in more detail to the hem.

I’ve been doing hardangersøm since I was a young girl. I learned from my great-great Aunt Barbro when she visited from Stavanger. She spoke no English, only old Norse. She taught me the traditional way to learn: watch and repeat.

Maree Hampton, Minneapolis, MN
Returning to Finish the Fana and Feel Loved

The Norwegian Fana sweater was knit on circular needles with worsted weight yarn with steeked armholes.

With lockdown, stress ensued. Knowing knitting calms the mind, I eagerly took to my needles. As pandemic projects became popular, I turned to finish a sweater. My mom died of a stroke in 2017. While by her side, I reached to knit my Fana project. Tears streamed down and were absorbed in the wooI. Swallowed by profound grief, I put it aside. Lockdown allowed me to finish and feel the love of my mom.

I’ve knit for 30 years. My cousin, Åshild, taught me to knit when I lived on a farm near where my great-grandparents were from. My desire to knit was driven by my love of Norwegian sweaters, hats, mittens, and my Norwegian heritage (mom’s side).

 
Winnie Johnson, Mesa, AZ
Rose Path Rug
 
This “rag rug” is made with 8/4 cotton carpet warp threaded in a rosepath design and cotton sheeting for the weft. I experimented with a variety of treadlings.
     
On recent travels to Scandinavia, I’ve purchased a number of weaving books and photographed a number of rugs on the floor of various museum buildings. When the pandemic hit, I put a long warp on the loom and experimented with rosepath designs. This rug contains a number of designs from photos and books.
 
I’ve been a rug weaver for several decades, but until recent travels in Scandinavia introduced me to different styles, I had not varied my construction methods. I’ve recently added rep weave and rosepath designs to my repertoire.
 
Lisa Torvik, Saint Paul, MN
Langskip for Atle (Long Ships for Atle)
 
This is a transparent hanging of 16/2 line linen warp with inlay of line and tow linen and securing shots of line linen. The technique is similar to tapestry, but with finer yarns. 
 
Late in the winter of 2020, I set up my loom for my piece for the Baldishol exhibition at Norway House in Minneapolis, and started weaving in early March. I needed a test piece and also wanted a gift for a Viking-loving relative in Norway, whom we were to visit. Alas, we could not travel, and his Viking reenactment trip to Iceland in summer was also canceled, so I was inspired to make him some ships.
 
My mother introduced me to weaving, and as a teenager I took a class from Lila Nelson. A trip to Norway in 1970 and working at Valdres Folkemuseum in 1972 piqued my interest. I spent 1974 in weaving school in Norway and brought home my loom.
 
Kathleen Almelien, Washington, IA
2020 Bunad Mask
 
The midband “O” is a 13-strand pickup weave of an åttebladsrose or eight-petal flower symbol for the sun. The “X” is known as St. Andrew’s cross and was believed to deflect evil before it entered the body. The edge patterns are from West Telemark.
 
Our family celebrated a June baptism during 2020. A mask was required of the ten people who could attend the church service. Norwegian tradition requires the wearing of a bunad (national costume) to this celebration. My bandweaving unified all requirements of all ages by making a bunad mask. The XOX motif is repeated to confuse the virus from entering our lives.
 
I am an artist who searches for visual connections and meanings. I married a Norwegian, this fact became a lifelong research into Norway, family, food, history, crafts, and habits. Retired after 44 years in teaching, I have become a band weaver.
 
Roger Buhr, Decorah, IA
     
 
“Nativity Scene with Dog and Cat” and Starring Roses,” are done in hedebosøm or Hedebo needlework.
 

My wife has over 200 nativity scenes in a variety of mediums. I wanted to make one for her collection using hedebo needlework. It was a creative challenge while waiting out COVID-19.

I made 36 rose ornaments for our Christmas tree and decided to try using the pattern in a doily. I also wanted to incorporate black thread which is difficult to see and work with in needlework. It was something I could do evenings while homebound because of the pandemic.

I am a retired Lutheran pastor. I began working with hedebo needlework in 1985, and have done it steadily since I retired in 2000. I enjoy creating new patterns and pieces, so it is a way of expressing my God-given gift of creativity.

Nordic Notes, May 2021

Video

Hjemmet magazine made a short film about the tablet weaving of Torkjell Sletta. It is in Norwegian, and subtitled in Norwegian, but fans of tablet weaving will love it no matter what. Torfjell Sletta has been making bands since 1979. He talks about how it’s evident he likes color, it’s something he loves. The woman he is instructing comments, “It looks like you are crazy about color.” He says he likes sharp colors and strong contrast.

Laura Demuth delivered a marvelous lecture on Norwegian coverlets as part of an introduction to weaving video produced by the Sustaining Scandinavian Folk Arts in the Upper Midwest project at the University of Wisconsin-Madison. It’s now available via YouTube, here. Laura starts  with an introduction of weaving. The section on Norwegian coverlets begins at the forty-minute mark, when you see a slide of marvelous sheep with curly horns. 

The 2021 International Fiber Festival spotlighted Norway on Day 3. It includes links to general Norwegian travel videos and two cultural videos. The following two videos were part of the online event. 

Nordlandsbunad from Bente Waag Petersen. Bente is a dyer with Arctic Krafts. She created a short video describing the various components of her national costume, from the embroidery, jewelry, and the cotton shawl (pictured here)  and the special way it is tied. 

 

 

 

Eline Oftedal Shares Her Vintage Embroidered Sweater Trimmings.
In this eight-minute video, the Norwegian sweater designer displays some of her collection of vintage Norwegian sweaters.  She has a theory about why the embroidered wool edges were added to sweaters. In earlier times, beautiful imported fabrics were very costly. Peasants had wool, and it was used  for special clothing. Leftover bits were embroidered and used also on sweaters. The black and white yarn used in the sweaters was inexpensive. She added, “If you added the beautiful cuffs here and there, it would sort of lift the appearance of this sweater, quite a bit, actually… and also made it last a bit longer.”

Exhibition Catalog

In the summer of 2020, Norway House in Minneapolis was one of the very first galleries or museums to arrange for safe and socially-distanced gallery visits. Even so, perhaps you were far away and missed the great show, “The Baldishol: A Medieval Norwegian Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles.” In step with the new virtual reality of the pandemic world, there were lots of online opportunities to learn about the exhibit, too: a YouTube opening celebration, a virtual tour of all the works, and a web page leading to additional articles about the artists and the inspirational Baldishol Tapestry. To finish this year-long celebration of the Baldishol Tapestry, please enjoy our last exhibition feature–a beautifully illustrated catalog. You can read (or print) the pdf version, or  purchase one in print

Interview

An interview with fiber artist Nancy Ellison from Zumbrota, Minnesota, is included in an online exhibition of traditional crafts practiced by Nordic Americans in the Upper Midwest region of the U.S. “Traveling Traditions: Nordic Folk Arts in the Upper Midwest” is sponsored by a program at the University of Wisconsin, Madison, “Sustaining Scandinavian Folk Arts in the Upper Midwest.” Nancy uses yarn made from her own flock of sheep in her weavings inspired by traditional Norwegian techniques and designs. 

Flesberg Exhibit 2005: Americans (and a Canadian) Try Out the Norwegian Technique

The Flesberg Study Group concluded their exploration with an exhibit of Flesberg weaving in the Gustafson Gallery at Luther College’s Center for the Arts, October 10 – 22, 2005. 

From the catalog: 

In the summer of 2003, the Vesterheim Museum/Norwegian Textile Guild Textile Study Tour to Norway visited Lågdal Folk Museum in Numedal.While there, tour members were shown coverlets from the small community of Flesberg. These coverlets proved to be a combination of typical Norwegian three-shaft krokbragd and the rosepath threading more commonly used in Sweden.Immediate interest developed among tour members, and inquiries were made about this local tradition.Fortuitously, meticulous documention had already been undertaken.

In the course of a four-year project that began in 1991, the Flesberg Farm Women’s Organization (Flesberg Bondekvinnelag) researched their community coverlet tradition, gathering a collection of 30 historic textiles from farms in their area.In 1994 they created a booklet of samples and drafts based on these 30 coverlets, each named after the farm with which it was associated.They called their local tradition, and their booklet, Flesbergplegg.

In 2004, the Flesberg Farm Women’s Organization was kind enough to share their traditions and their booklet with Vesterheim Museum and the Norwegian Textile Guild, providing a basis for the Flesberg Study Group. The group of 27 weavers studied the Flesberg patterns independently for more than a year, and is pleased to present a selection of their results, both traditional and contemporary, in the Exhibit of the Flesberg Study Group.

It was a varied and colorful exhibit, and one that added new textile fans. Kate Martinson, a professor of Textiles at Luther College who mounted the exhibit, was impressed. “Our students were intrigued by the complexity of the patterns and the color work. For me that was a great thing, as colleagues were not kind to or supportive of fibers.”

The titles of three pieces referenced the pattern names from the Norwegian booklet, which were taken from the Flesberg-area farms where the historical coverlets were researched.  

Norma Smayda
“‘Ørstein’ Norwegian blanket chest cover”
19” x 33”.  Warp: 12/6 natural cotton. Weft: Rauma åklegarn, Klippens åsborya. Sett: 6.3 epi (25/10 cm)

Norma Smayda. Saunderstown, RI

Norma Smayda
“Ørstein, Håvardsrud, Væråsmogen”
19” x 23”. Warp: 12/6 natural cotton. Weft: Rauma åklegarn, Klippens åsborya. Sett: 6.3 epi (25/10 cm)

Norma Smayda. Saunderstown, RI

Robbie LaFleur
“Norwegian Sunshine II” 
28” x 37″. Warp: linen. Weft: jute yarn and silk fabric strips. Sett: 6 epi

Robbie LaFleur, Minneapolis, MN

Katharine Dickerson 
“Futon Cover for a Yurt”
75” x 115”. Warp: linen. Weft: wool. Sett: 8 epi

Jan Mostrom
“Flesberg Rag Rug”
27 “x 45”. Warp: 12/6 brown seine twine warp. Weft: 1⁄2” homespun cotton fabric strips. Sett: 5 epi.

Notes:  I used a temple when weaving and added weight to my beater.  I beat on an open shed and then again on a closed shed.  After taking the rug off the loom, I used a sweater shaver to remove frayed threads.

Jan Mostrom, Chanhassan, MN

Syvilla Tweed Bolson
“Flesbergplegg Variations”
23” x 48”. Warp: Swedish cotton seine. Weft: Norwegian spelsau wool. Sett: 6 epi

Syvilla Bolson, Decorah, Iowa

Wendy Sundquist
“Small purse”
6” x 9.5”. Warp: 12/6 black cotton. Weft:  wool yarn. Sett: 6 epi 

Notes:  I have always been fascinated with small purses.  These purses seem to have originated in the days when garments had no pockets and an external pocket or bag was required to hold small personal items.  This piece is constructed with a Flesberg panel attached to a ‘vadmal’ inner bag.  It is lined with a duponi silk fabric.  The strap is card woven, not unlike some of the early straps on ‘pocket bags’.  It is finished with a sterling silver clasp.

Wendy Sundquist, Langley, Washington

Jan Kroyer
“Adaptation of Flesberg # 28, Wingestad #3”
15” x 27”. Warp: cotton. Weft: wool (Åklegarn). Sett: 6 epi 

Jan Kroyer, Stoughton, WI

Barbara Stam
“Nordic Nights”
19″ x 20.5″. Warp: 70/3 linen (navy). Weft: 50/50 silk and wool (navy, beige, light blue). Sett: 12 epi. 

Notes:  My studies and experiments in the Flesberg technique were aimed towards a functional garment.  It was a challenge to find a fine but strong warp and an appropriate sett that would show the Flesberg designs but not be excessively heavy.  I also discovered that color choice made a huge difference in the visibility of the designs.  This vest uses portions of drafts # 16 (border I), #20 (border I), #25, #27 (border II) and #28 (border II).

Barbara Stam, Fallston, MD

Nancy Ellison 
8” x 12”. Warp: 12/6 black cotton.  Weft: wool in natural sheep colors. Sett: 6 epi. 

Notes:  After raising natural colored sheep for 27 years, I have a fascination of using various shades of sheep colors and enjoy them more than dyed colors.  My Shetland and Icelandic sheep have similarities to Norwegian breeds.  Some of the yarn I spun by hand, some had been spun by a mill.  One of the yarns I spun from Villsau wool I got in Norway while on a Vesterheim textile tour.  I spun the yarn on one of the antique Norwegian spinning wheels in my collection.  I used drafts from the numbers one and seven study group patterns.

Nancy Ellison, Zumbrota, MN

 

Sharon Marquardt: Using Traditional Voss Rye Technique–to Depict Show Shoveling?

By Robbie LaFleur

The Baldishol tapestry, woven around 1180.

In 2005 Sharon Marquardt attended a lecture by Marta Kløve Juuhl; it is reprinted in this issue, “Voss Ryer – Traditional Bedcover and Contemporary Art.” Sharon was intrigued by the technique. Fourteen years later she incorporated Voss rye into her remarkable entry in the exhibit at Norway House in Minneapolis, “The Baldishol: A Medieval Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Fiber Art.”  

Sharon Marquardt, “Birthday Blizzard”

Sharon described how the Baldishol inspired her image.

When the exhibit was announced, entrants were encouraged to be creative. I employed the arch, name of the month, and figure from the Baldishol to use in my tapestry… A January blizzard in west-central Minnesota had blocked my doorway, so I had to shovel out. It’s also the month of my birthday; therefore the title “Birthday Blizzard.”

The image itself was clever, but the method she used to make it was amazing. Sharon Marquardt’s ongoing study of Norwegian weaving techniques laid the foundation for her weaving. Marta Kløve Juuhl was a important instructor and mentor in her weaving education. 

Sharon Marquardt, Sampler of West Coast åkle techniques woven on a warp weighted loom.

In 2005 Sharon took a course on Western Norway åkle techniques on the warp weighted loom from Marta at Vesterheim Folk Art School. This is the (impeccable) sampler Sharon wove. 

This class built on her skills learned in a workshop In 1999, when she studied Sámi grene weaving from instructors from the Manndalen Husflidslag in northern Norway. Classes were held at Vågan Folkehøgskole in Kabelvåg in the Lofoten Islands. Sharon’s grandmother came from the island of Andøya.

In 2006 Sharon joined a rya study group organized through The Norwegian Textile Letter. It was led by Judy Ness, a weaver and weaving instructor at the University of Oregon, with Marta Kløve Juuhl as a consultant. Sharon was interested in the Voss rye Marta described the previous year and reached out to Marta via email for tips. In 2007 when Marta was again teaching at Vesterheim, Sharon consulted with her in person. “I had woven what I thought was a Voss rya for a loom bench cover,” Sharon said, “but Marta tactfully informed me I had woven it completely wrong. She graciously gave me some tips and a copy of her instructions for a Voss coverlet.”

Marta Kløve Juuhl brought this Voss rye to the Conference on Norwegian Weaving in 2005.

icelandic varafeldur knot

In 2018 Sharon continued study with Marta when she took her class at Vesterheim, “Weaving Techniques for a Vararfell.” In this Icelandic pile weave, unspun locks are knotted into the woven base with a special knot. (More on the technique here.)

By the time Sharon created “Birthday Blizzard,” she used her broad skill set in a unique combination to depict an image inspired by the medieval Baldishol Tapestry. In particular, she used expertise she gained from Marta in two Norwegian techniques–Voss rye and the Icelandic varafell pile weave.  

She used a Voss rye threading with rye knots for the snow and inner borders. Calling on her tapestry experience, she used inlay threads in various colors on her basketweave background to form the shapes. The weave structure enhanced texture in her forms. Look at the bark-like effect of the basketweave on the tree trunk. This detail includes her dog and snow-covered mailbox, too. 

Sharon used 16/3 bleached linen at a sett of 20 ends per inch. The weft was Rauma prydvevgarn. She used several strands of Swedish faro singles or Norwegian brodergarn for the inlay. Some details were added with embroidery.

The deep, fuzzy outer frame is woven in Icelandic varafell technique. The locks were from sheep owned by Joana Friesz from New Salem, North Dakota. 

Sharon’s work shows a broad leap of creativity and vision to adapt the Voss rye technique for a tapestry-like image. How wonderfully the background weave structure worked for her sweater!

Perhaps if someone asked her how long the weaving took, she could answer “Fourteen years”–the time since she first heard the Voss rye lecture. 

When Marta Kløve Juuhl saw a photo of her student’s new work, she was clearly impressed. “Sharon’s piece is amazing,” Marta wrote. “She has transformed the rya technique into a piece of art, also including varafell technique on the edges!”

“Our Calendar”: A Very Personal Baldishol Interpretation

By Lisa Torvik 

Editors note: In the exhibit at Norway House this summer, “The Baldishol: A Medieval Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles,” artists reimagined aspects of the famous Norwegian work. Many learned about the tapestry for the first time; others were very familiar with the image. Lisa Torvik grew up with it, literally; her mother recreated the image in needlepoint years ago. 

For the exhibit at Norway House I wanted the challenge of creating something large, and thought the rough dimensions of the original Baldishol tapestry were a good start.  The overall structure, too, was helpful to copy because unlike the individual motifs, I was inspired by the months.  I immediately thought of our birth months, mine and my husband Neil’s, which are February and March.  I filled each of our “months” with personal and historical references, and things that have inspired us.

Lisa’s panel: The Norwegian Links

Frida Hansen, “Løvetand,” 1893.

My favorite historical weaver is Frida Hansen and I included a few motifs from her work that other Frida fans will pick up on:  the stars from The Milky Way, of course, but also the bunched floral corners and, from my favorite piece of her work, Dandelions.  They may not fly in the air, at least not until they go to seed, but as per the inscription she wove in, the dandelion is “the plant that grows the more it’s tread upon.”  Dandelions was her personal contribution to the textiles displayed in the Norwegian section of the Women’s Pavilion of the Chicago World Exhibition of 1893.  It was created under contract with the Norwegian Feminist Association, led by close personal friends of Frida’s. 

Lisa Torvik

The author at her wedding, wearing a beaded belt

Much of the rest of February is from the Valdres district of Norway, where I worked in the local museum and attended weaving school.  The barn features a låverosa, or barn rose, which has an interesting origin in the creative carpentry of a Valdres man who worked in Pennsylvania Dutch country for a period in the late 1800s, then returned home to Valdres.  Bitihorn is a landmark mountain in Øystre Slidre township as one enters the Jotunheim mountain range from Highway 51.  The stakk or jumper of my bunad, or national costume, is the fest plaid from Robøle farm, an ancient farm once encompassing most of the area and the farm on which I lived.  I have used the exact same yarn, Røros Nr. 2, and colors that are used in its weft to suggest the plaid, though the weave structure is actually a more complex pointed twill called ringvend.  My belt is beaded with a silver buckle, suggested by my miniature applique.  I have several pins I wear, more round than rectangular but oh well….and the kjerringkniv on my belt some might wonder at.  Not a weapon, but a utensil, worn nearest one’s favored hand.  A man’s knife on the other hand….literally…

Woven keyboard and mouse!

I show my shuttle as triumphing, finally, over my keyboard and mouse, though the latter are still a big part of my everyday, for work.  After nearly forty years, I long to engage with “technology” that does not require a password!  Or updating software!  No virus bots or spyware haunt my looms or needles.

The bottom border under February loosely reproduces motifs from the design of the Valdres sweater, the heart-shaped curls offset by cross-hatched diamonds.  I have knit it several times.

The blue column represents slate tiles of Øystre Slidre, and the waves beside represent Surnadal.

The central column is part of the original Baldishol design, and I have decorated it with the communal coats of arms of two Norwegian townships: Øystre Slidre, depicting in sky blue its history as a producer of roofing slate (skifer), and Surnadal, with its fishing and maritime past represented by bright green waves.  My grandfather was born and grew up there.  

Neil’s panel: The Irish Connection

Triskele

On to the Irish.  My husband Neil’s family originated many places in Europe, but from what he knows, mostly in Ireland. And it is Irish culture he most admires.  So we start with the triskele, an ancient symbol about which not much is known for sure but that does not stop varying interpretations.  Also sometimes called the three-legged man, it was carved on rocks as much as 3000 years ago in Ireland.  I continue the border with shamrocks, of course.  

The sweater is partially knitted.

Neil is resting his vorpal sword. Usually it’s invisible, but it’s always at the ready to slay the unrighteous jabberwock and other monsters. He has never worn a kilt, though we briefly toyed with the idea for our wedding.  However, he has great legs and should show them off, in my opinion.  His socks are woven with real Aran Isle yarn and I am particularly proud of getting some perspective right, for once, with his feet. His sweater is woven and partly knit out of the same weaving yarn, my good old Røros Nr. 2.  I knit the same front pattern from a sweater I have knit for him, a Guernsey pattern from the channel islands.  

My husband requested that I show something related to his career as a grade school teacher, something he loved and was good at.  So, some books and a little slate lie by his feet. He holds up a palette, representing his return to painting, and the cliffs are taken from one of his paintings that he made from a photograph of Shetland.  He loves the ocean, so there had to be some waves crashing on the cliffs. I wanted to squeeze in a pint of Guinness next to his guitar, but was afraid I did not have enough room, having to make everything line up with the top and bottom borders too.  So the space is bare, but I embroidered in a wee pint anyway, in the border below it.

Lisa Torvik credits early influences of her mother, grandmothers, aunts and friends in Norway for her knitting, sewing, embroidery and weaving interests.  She spent a year in her youth studying weaving at Valdres Husflidsskule in Fagernes, Norway and now focuses on projects in traditional Norwegian techniques and more contemporary applications.

The Baldishol: A Medieval Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles is available to view by appointment at Norway House through the end of September 2020. See the exhibit virtually or sign up to visit at: https://www.norwayhouse.org/baldishol-virtual-tour. You can also read articles about many of the pieces on the Norwegian Textile Letter exhibit page

RETRO REPRINT: Voss Ryer – Traditional Bedcover and Contemporary Art

By Marta Kløve Juuhl

Editor’s note: This article was originally published in the Norwegian Textile Letter, Vol XII No. 3,  May, 2006. It was the keynote presentation at the Conference on Norwegian Woven Textiles held at Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum in October 2005. The photos in this reprint are courtesy of the Voss Folkemuseum. 

Three years ago, Voss Folkemuseum had a great exhibition on ryer (pile coverlets), a traditional textile in Voss for the past 200 or 300 years.  Voss is situated in western Norway, not along the coast though; it’s inland.  Through the local newspaper the museum asked the inhabitants to borrow ryer (I will use the Norwegian word) for the exhibition.  They got about 70, mostly from the farms in the district.

And I was asked to be a part of the exhibition, so to speak.  They wanted me to put up a loom in the museum’s great hall and sit there and weave during the summer 2002.  Of course, I accepted that invitation, partly because I am a weaver and partly because I grew up on a farm in Voss where we have quite a few of these old ryer.  I felt I could contribute to the exhibition in that way.

I will describe:

  1. The development of Voss ryer – from sheepskins to a woven textile
  2. Traditions in use
  3. How to make ryer
  4. The variety of design
  5. Inspiration for making new ryer

Variety of design was evident at the exhibition at Voss Folkemuseum in 2002.

The development of Voss ryer – from sheepskins to a woven textile

In the early houses, consisting of only one room with an open hearth, there were low benches made of earth along the walls.  The earthen benches were used to lie on.  Sheepskins were then used as blankets, both over and underneath the people when they slept.  Later on, these skins were replaced by the ryer and plain blankets made of wool.

Today of course, we realize that the ryer were based on the sheepskin idea, or perhaps you could say that they were inspired by them.  

Sheep-farming has long traditions in the Voss rural area, so there was certainly never any shortage of skins there.  Weaving took time, and it was intricate, so it was not a savings of work when the sheepskins went out of fashion for bedding. Besides, they had plenty of other uses for the skins, such as for clothing.

It was found to be more beneficial to shear the sheep in spring and autumn than to slaughter them. The ryer were much more pleasant to use, and they were easier to keep clean than the sheepskins. A rye can stand a good washing.

But still they were not so clean all the time. I have heard a story about a girl who was engaged to a farmer’s son and when she came to the farm to stay overnight for the first time, she was placed in a bed with a dirty old rye. I don’t think she considered that a warm welcome. I don’t know if they ever got married.

Traditions in use

The majority of the farms have a separate outside building, called a loft, where the valuables of the family were stored. This is where there were chests with the silver and other precious items.  This is also where their best clothing was hung to air, and where their tapestries, ryer and woolen blankets were kept.  

The servant girls slept in the loft on summer nights–no doubt under the colorful ryer.  Beds were to be found in the living rooms of the farms, too. Because beautiful woven articles gave a certain status, people began to adorn the beds with ryer and colored woolen blankets, to show to their visitors and families.

From the Voss Folkemuseum exhibition. A rye is on the bed, with the smooth side up.

On cold winter days, the ryer were used on the open horse-drawn sleighs, to keep the travelers warm.  And when the rye was too old for anything else it was used on the horse’s back on cold winter days.  

One of my parents’ friends, an old lady, told me a story about when her family’s rye was stolen.  This was in the 1930s when the farmers still used horses when they needed to go into Voss sentrum (city center). They were invited to a Christmas party on a very cold winter’s day. They felt sorry for the horse who had to wait outside the house for them. So they put the warmest and most precious thing they had on its back, the rye.  When they returned after the party, the rye had been stolen. The farmer’s wife never made another rye.  

Voss is not close to the coast, so using ryer in the boats was not a topic here. But the fishermen in northern Norway used to use ryer in boats. And when speaking of ryer to common Norwegians today, they think of båtryer (boat ryer.)

In some districts in Norway they have also used rags as the nap or pile, but we have no documentation for that in the Voss area. That is the same with initials and numbers; I have never seen them on ryer from Voss.

How to make ryer

Voss ryer consist of a loom-woven blanket and a nap, or pile, rug.  I will use the word nap to describe the loose yarns hanging down; they are 5 – 8 cm long.  Two different weaving techniques are combined to make into one rye.  While the blanket (you may also call it the bottom) is woven, the nap is knotted into it simultaneously.  Thus, the rye has a smooth side and a nap side.

The ryer are woven in woolen yarn, both in warp, weft and nap.  In bygone days the looms were narrower than today, so the majority of the ryer are woven in two widths of approximately 70-75 centimeters, and then sewn together down the middle.

The weaving technique is diamond twill on four harnesses and four treadles, and the pile knot is almost always placed right in the middle of the diamond.  Sometimes you can see the pile knots on the smooth side just as decorative spots, but I think it is most common that they are not shown.  

There are two different knots which are used.  When the knots are not to be shown, you tie the yarn (nap) around just one thread of the warp on each side of the diamond center.  This knot is called a Turkish knot.  The other type is knotted sideways around the three warp threads right in the middle of the diamond.  If you have both types of knots in the same row, you put the knots that are not to be shown on the top of the diamonds. 

On the top example, the knots are not visible on the smooth side; on the bottom, the rya knots are visible as a design.

The smooth side of the rye is the right side, the side you see when the rye is placed on the bed.  But just the same, it is most important for the weaver to know exactly where and how to tie the pile knots because the pile knots form the pattern on the reverse side of the rye.  It was, and still is, important that the rye be decorative on both sides.  It is the geometric shapes which are repeated, and there are also squares, stripes and bands.

In this rye from the Voss Folkemuseum exhibit, you can see the pattern of knots on the smooth side, and the design on the pile side.

In Norway, weaving, as far as we know, has always been women’s work.  I think this is the reason why so little is written about weaving.  It has always been a part of the silent knowledge passed on from mother to daughter.

When it comes to ryer, this is the reason why we know so little about the phenomena of using two different types of knots in our district.  It occurs on the ryer that are about 100 years old, in just a small area.  Let us imagine that there was a farmer’s wife using her creativity in weaving.  She wanted to do something special and discovered that the knots could be tied in different ways.  One day women from some of the neighboring farms visited her, looked at her weaving, and picked up the idea.

Because I am familiar with Voss ryer it was an unexpected experience discovering that this was known in just this small area.   I know my great-grandmother made several of these, but unfortunately, I never met her.   When I started investigating ryer, both my grandmothers and my mother were dead too, so I had nobody in the family to ask.

The variety of design

All the ryer that I have seen in Voss and Hardanger are in diamond twill weave, although I know that elsewhere in Norway other weaving techniques are used.  And most of them have bright colors both in warp, weft, and nap.  

Bright colors shine in this rye from the Voss Folkemuseum exhibition.

On the back of the rye, knots are visible and add to the design.

Red and black seem to be a common color combination, though the oldest ones I have seen (from the beginning of the 1800s) are often just black and white, the natural colors from sheep’s wool.  But almost all colors were used, even pink and turquoise, bright blue and green.

This Voss rye from the Voss Folkemuseum exhibit includes wild pinks and blues.

The design is often a very intricate combination of nap and bottom or blanket, especially when some of the knots make patterns on both sides.  Then the nap is very often black in the middle with just a few spots of bright blue, green and yellow.  If there is a frame of the colors, then the warp is usually black with a few stripes on each side and the weft is red.

Older ryer have the nap in small squares 10 times 10 cm in red and black or orange and black.  Sometimes you can see that the weaver did not have enough yarn of the right color for the nap.  Then she had to dye more yarn, and she did not get quite the same shade.  So, half of the rye is green, and the other half is turquoise.  Still it is very beautiful to look at, and I guess the utility was the same.  The old ryer show a brilliant combination of beauty and utility.

Does this rye from the Voss folkemuseum illustrate a design choice or did the weaver run our of light orange yarn?

The textiles may have a few mistakes seen through our eyes today, but the mistakes did not reduce the qualities for their use.  I think that is good, because together with age they are part of the exotic and outstanding expressiveness which is rare in new textiles.

Inspiration for making new ryer

Do we need such textiles today?  And how can we use them?  Of course, we don’t need ryer today, when it comes to basic survival.  In our beds we have all kinds of duvets, blankets, sheets, and pillows. The fishermen along the Norwegian coast don’t have open boats anymore; they want a more comfortable life when they are out in their fishing boats. We hardly have any working horses left at all and we don’t put ryer on tractors. So, they are not necessities that our everyday life depends on.

But still, I think we need such textiles because:

  1. They tell us about our past,
  2. They tell us about using what you have of raw materials, and
  3. They tell us about not being afraid of working hard for a long time with a textile which is important to you.  

Certainly these ryer are large and required a large investment of time.

I have great respect for the women who made these intricate patterns by combining colors and techniques.  Why should we not have a rye in our bed?  When we find ryer as contemporary textiles they are mostly on the walls.

I guess some of you have read about another of our textile artists, Inger Anne Utvåg, in the Norwegian Textile Letter.  She also uses old båtryer (boat ryer) as inspiration for her new textiles, which are large ryer as wall hangings.  As such they have a powerful emanation.  When they change place from bed to wall, one may also change the material to be of a more exclusive kind. And suddenly they become a piece of art.  

I myself put in some silk in my ryer when I find that suitable. I’ve made several small ryer for babies.  You may wrap the babies in it, and when the baby grows and starts crawling this rye with its nap is a very interesting subject to investigate.

One of my dreams is to get a library with lots of good books and a cozy chair with a rye in it.  Perhaps, one day in the future I will have time to weave the rye.  

So, with these I consider myself making contemporary textiles, standing in a 200 to 300 year-old tradition.  But after visiting the Egyptian Museum in Cairo some weeks ago, I have to think in another way.  Among all the mummies and chests and sculptures I also found some linen fabric, dirty and dusty and partly in bits and pieces, all placed in showcases.

In one of them I discovered something that looked very much like a rye.  It was about 90 cm wide, 2 meters long, and quite worn out some places.  There I saw the bottom, which was tabby, and for each 16 or 17 mm there was a row of Turkish knots.  Where the floss still existed, it was about 6 or 7 cm long; both the bottom and the nap were linen. I don’t know anything about the use of this textile because there was no information except for the age, about 3000 years old.  So now I suddenly find myself in a 3,000 to 4,000 year-old tradition. That gives weaving of ryer, and weaving in general, a certain perspective.  

Why should we stop now?   I decided to end my lecture like this before I left Norway, and I was kind of pessimistic when thinking about the weaving back home.  But I want weaving so much to continue.  

And so, I arrive here in Decorah and meet all of you who are so enthusiastic and full of energy and busy weaving.  That you are very skilled I can see from the exhibit “Frisk og Flink”.  And what I hear of the study groups that you have in many places also gives me that impression.  So, you give me the energy to keep on back home.  Thank you.

Marta Kløve Juuhl taught weaving in the Norwegian Husflidsskole system for many years.  In recent years she has taught at Vesterheim Folk Art School. She also worked part-time at Østerøy museum, primarily with textiles, and taught many courses on using a warp weighted loom. She is co-author of a comprehensive book on the topic, The Warp-Weighted Loom. She currently works in her private studio.