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Mendable: An Exhibit and Environmental Investigation

Norske Kunsthåndverkere (The Norwegian Association for Arts and Crafts, referred to as NK) is a membership organization working to promote and support Norwegian contemporary craft artists nationally and internationally.

NK has a current membership of more than 1000 professional artists and makers in a range of media from all of Norway. The group arranges an annual exhibit, the Arsutstillingen;  sponsors thematic exhibits around Norway; publishes a magazine, Kunsthåndverk; administers art grants; and works to influence art policies.

NK runs two galleries – Format  in Oslo and KRAFT  in Bergen. Another arm is Norwegian Crafts, a non-profit organization funded by the Norwegian Ministry of Culture and Equality and the Norwegian Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA) that aims to strengthen the international position of contemporary crafts from Norway.

NK arranges thematic exhibits in various areas of Norway, and the themes are chosen by one of the seven regions that are part of the association. In 2020 the Norske Kunsthåndverkere regional group in Viken worked with NK on the juried exhibit “MENDABLE—Climate and Environment in Today’s Art Practice.” The jury and project group included Margrethe Loe Elde, Barbro Hernes, Svein Ove Kirkhorn and the project leader Ann Kristin Aas. 16 artists were chosen for the exhibit at the House of Foundation in Moss, August 29-October 11, 2020.

[Editors note: NK includes artists working in a variety of media. For the Norwegian Textile Letter, we focus on the artists working in fiber-related materials. You can see the full list of artists here. You can watch a Facebook video of many of the artists here. The following general description and the entries about the fiber artists are taken from the NK website.]

The Mendable Exhibit, 2020

We posed the question of how artists take a position on climate and environmental questions in today’s material-based art. We wanted to know about how the choice of materials, technique, content and expression in art were affected by thoughts of, or consideration of the environment. In the exhibition MENDABLE, we wanted to investigate how environmental activism is present in fine craft, and how the artists reflect on creating works of art in a world that is already full of things.

The title MENDABLE indicates something that can be repaired, both in a physical sense, but also as repair of a relationship or improvement of a situation. The artists in the exhibit seek relevant ways to express their unease with the climate situation through their work. They seek to help us find deeper understanding and insight through varying forms of expression and artistic methods. In this lies a hope that something can be done about the situation, that it is possible to repair something destroyed, and that it is possible to change and improve our way of living in the world. 

The artists pose questions around overproduction, overconsumption, and the exploitation of natural resources. What are the consequences for nature, and for us? Several of the artists use a working process that is close to nature to explore these questions. Many gather the raw materials themselves, like clay, wood, resin, and plants, directly from nature. Recycling and manual work are strong aspects of the artists’ works. Reworking found materials, building step by step, sewing stitch by stitch, repairing, unraveling, whittling, and weaving create room for reflection and new realizations—a method to find a deeper understanding of nature and the world around us. 

Eline Medbøe   |  I FIND SHELTER IN OUR REMAINS

It is strange that something that is so woven into our daily lives and our personalities is something that, at the same time, we respect so little. We throw away enormous amounts of completely usable clothing every year. Clothes are consumer products where the prices are out of line with the human and environmental resources used to produce them. By using recycled materials like cast-off clothing in my work I try to comment on us and the times in which we live. I sew my works with repetitive hand stitches  and I am concerned with the actions I take while I transform the textiles. There is something ruthless and brutal in sewing into a skirt, a pretty piece of clothing that someone has worn next to their skin. I hope the viewers of my work will become more conscious of their own relationship to clothing, and the value of the materials we toss away so easily. 

Eline Medbøe, ” I Find Shelter in our Remains.” Source: NK website: https://norskekunsthandverkere.no/users/eline-medboe. See the site for additional photos.

www.elinem.no
Instagram: @elinemed
Video: “Interview with Elina Medbøe

Kristina D. Aas  |   UNWEAVING

With my “Unweaving” project, I reflect on the production of art at a time we are swimming in products. We don’t understand how things are made, what they are made of, who makes them, nor where the makers are. When these layers of knowledge are erased, one begins to ask questions about the meaning of making art or crafts. I am trying to answer the question for myself, and in dialog with the public by the dismantling of work I have used several months to create. 

Photo: Karina Nøkleby Presttun

Source: Kristina Austi website: https://austikristina.com/upcoming-exhibitions/2020/8/29/mendable

https://austikristina.com [Editor’s note: The artist’s name is now Kristina Austi.]
Instagram: @austikristina

Karina Presttun Nøkleby   |   RUBIN

I began to investigate wood shavings as a possible method to stiffen textiles because a friend who creates frames of recycled materials had a sack of shavings. Great, I thought. Free, locally produced and environmentally friendly. Unsurprisingly, it didn’t work out as I intended, but worked out as something completely different. I think this happens continuously; in attempting to do something “a little more climate-friendly,” possibilities pop up, disguised as restrictions.

Rubin

“Rubin,” by Karina Presttun Nøkleby. Photo: Eivind Senneset. More photos are on the artist’s website: http://www.karinapresttun.no/portfolio_page/rubin-2019/

http://www.karinapresttun.no/contact/

Kristin Sæterdal   |   SPACE DEBRIS

“Space junk is waste and discarded or lost objects from human activity in space. Most are in orbit around the Earth in or close to the original orbit they were put in.” Wikipedia. The European Space Agency ESA monitors 20,000 objects that, among other things, monitor global warming and other environmental issues. The agency sends out alerts to satellites so they can be maneuvered manually to avoid collisions. In the event of a collision, even a small nut can cause major damage.

“Space Debris” by Kristin Sæterdal. Source: Mendable exhibition catalog.

kristinsæterdal.com
Instagram: @tinsapus
Video on the weaving of Space Debris

These are only a few of the talented artists working in textiles that are part of Norske Kunsthåndverkere. From this page listing all the artists, you can choose among materials used, including tekstil. There are other catalogs to download from thematic exhibits and the annual exhibition, Årsutstillingen, on the NK website page, “Fagstoff.” Many are in English.

March 2023

To Reach the top of a Mountain: Ann Cathrin November Høibo

By Robbie LaFleur 

Ann Cathrin November Hoibø, “Dreams Ahead”

Norway has an excellent program for placing art in public spaces, KORO. Recently, Ann Cathrin November Hoibø was commissioned to weave a large tapestry for the Norwegian Embassy in Washington D.C. Dreams Ahead is Hoibø’s reflection of nature in Norway.

The artist and her process were described in an interview published on the KORO site, “To Reach the Top of a Mountain.” Hoibø was influenced by the scale of the weaving, and working on an enormous loom that was new to her. She couldn’t help but react to the politics of the day and the pandemic that changed all our lives. Weavers enjoy reading about process, and this essay is rich in detail. Reading some of my favorite excerpts will whet your appetite to read the full essay. 

[From the introduction] Naturally gray wool forms the background of the abstract tapestry – a coarse, uneven surface that can be experienced almost as a gray wall, with large fields of unbleached white and charcoal gray pressing in from the sides, not unlike Norwegian skerries in springtime, when these small rocky islands are sprinkled with areas of snow that contrast with the dark rocks…The tapestry is without doubt the largest November Høibo has ever woven, measuring 216 in. high by 119 in. wide (5.5 x 3 m.). She made the work by hand all by herself, without any help from assistants – a quest that took her seven months of daily labor at the loom. The artist also had to rent a larger studio in order to produce on such a large scale.

Following Norwegian tradition, Hoibø used a plain fork as a beater. She explained, “It’s a simple tool and easy to get hold of. I take whatever fork I can find. It’s just important that it’s not too heavy. Also, I need to have a lot of them, because I leave them all over the place. At lunchtime, the other people who have studios in this building can seldom find a fork.”

Anne Cathrin November Høibo, “Dreams Ahead” (detail)

When you weave such a large tapestry, whole seasons go by. Hoibø describes shifting life outside her loom during the creation of Dreams Ahead. “The tapestry takes in life. I respond to my environment – the seasons, the light, and my shifting moods. There are many emotions lying in these threads. Some days it’s incredibly good just to sit here and work, while other days it’s very lonely and frustrating and boring. It feels different to work on this after Christmas and after the U.S. election. It was quite draining in late autumn, when everything was dark, gloomy, and somehow very chaotic – it’s reflected in the dark colors at the top of the tapestry. Now the colors are brighter but cooler. We haven’t had this kind of white winter here for many years, with crisp snow, an unchanging blue sky, and a bracing breeze. The snow has made its way into the tapestry and it’s also possible to see the clear sky and colors. And soon it will get warmer…”

Hoibø relates interesting details about weaving on such a large scale. “This tapestry is so vast that it forces me to work in a different style. Previously, I worked more hectically, but these days I allow myself to use a whole day to roll up the tapestry onto the cloth beam, and to tie and untie all the knots for the weights one by one. And I tell myself that this is enough for today, so I keep my strength to continue again tomorrow. It’s a grown-up approach; it feels healthier.”

Dreams Ahead was woven on a loom with history, one that was used in the well-known tapestry workshop run by Else Halling in the middle of the 20th century, A/S Norsk Billedvev (A/S Norwegian Tapestry). When the essay was published in book form, it included more information on the loom, reprinted here with permission. Hoibø borrowed the loom from Per Hoelfeldt Lund, who wrote about its history. It’s interesting that Hoibø’s 21rst century tapestry is woven on the same loom used to weave reproductions of Renaissance-era historical Norwegian tapestries. 

It is a loom designed and built for the workshop A/S Norsk Billedvev and the workshop’s manager Else Halling. [From t]he Norwegian Museum of Decorative Arts and Design, where the director Thor B. Kielland, in the 1940s, established a workshop on the top floor of the museum building. 

Here reproductions were woven of our oldest textile treasures, and [tapestries were woven from] new cartoons by our leading artists for the decoration of Oslo City Hall and other commissions right up until the 1960s, when the workshop was closed down and Else Halling was awarded the King’s Medal of Merit for her outstanding work. 

When the workshop was to be emptied in 1967, my mother, Lily Hoelfeldt Lund, was asked if she could take care of the largest loom, in view of her links with the handweaving community and her production of yarn spun from the wool of spelsau sheep. I was studying in Oslo, and was dispatched to dismantle the loom, and I loaded it into Fuhr’s truck, which had delivered wine to the Wine Monopoly and otherwise would have driven empty to Grimstad. 

After several years in storage, we had extended our main building, so that we had a room of 645 sq.ft. (60 sq.m.) on the upper floor with plenty of space for the loom, which was put into use, initially for several years by my mother. 

Among other things, she wove a replica of Leonardo’s Last Supper, which was her gift to Eide Church following its restoration. Wenche, my wife, wove a number of exciting tapestries in the following years. 

And now we are lending it to the artist Ann Cathrin November Hoibø in connection with her commission for Norway’s new embassy in Washington, D.C. Source: Per Hoelfeldt Lund, 21 September 2020 

Ann Cathrin November Hoibø should be commended for her striking tapestry and her successful commission. And her interview is inspiring for tapestry weavers—to learn about her thoughts and weaving decisions while Dreams Ahead was underway. 

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

Impressionism in Tapestry: Translating Thoughts and Feelings with Thread

By Aino Kajaniemi

Aino Kajaniemi is an artist from Jyväskylä, Finland. Her bold and dramatic tapestries are often likened to sketching or a form of line etching with fibers. She graduated from the University of Art and Design in Helsinki, and her works have been shown in solo and collective shows throughout Europe. She was Finnish Artist of the Year in 2010.

PREFACE

Although Finland is renowned for woven textile traditions dating back centuries – including double weave and rya (knotted pile) – tapestry weaving in Finland has a much shorter history. It was not until the 1900 World Exhibition in Paris that tapestry weaving began to emerge in Finland. Research confirms that the only older historical tapestries found in Finland were actually Belgian and are now held in Turku Castle.

The 1900 World Exhibition marked an important breakthrough for Finnish textiles. Although Finland was still a part of Russia, Finnish weavers had their own pavilion, designed by noted architect Eliel Saarinen. The Finnish Pavilion provided important recognition to a country that dreamed of independence; that came in 1918. Akseli Gallen-Kallela, a famous Finnish painter, designed the textiles for the Finnish Pavilion. In his travels around Europe, he saw for the first time the tapestries of France and Italy. He returned to Finland and sent weavers from Friends of Finnish Handicraft to Norway to study tapestry weaving. In 1900, the first known Finnish tapestry was woven, in Art Nouveau style, ”Chickens from the Forest and Pine Saplings.”

“Chickens from Forest and Pine Saplings (detail),” 1900.

IMPRESSIONS IN TAPESTRY

Tapestry weaving has never been as popular in Finland as have other forms of weaving. I am part of a group of tapestry- focused artists that includes Inka Kivalo, Ariadna Donner, and Soili Hovila. We had a group exhibition at the Craft Museum of Finland in Jyväskylä in 2020, and will have an additional exhibition in Rovaniemi Art Museum in 2024.

I have woven tapestries for forty years. I attended weaving school for two years, and the experience provided a good career basis. As the saying goes, after you master the technique, you can forget it. I then studied at the University of Art and Design in Helsinki and graduated as a textile artist in 1983. At the time of my final examination, I showed my sketches to my teacher, and she said, “The only way to weave these is with tapestry.” She decided that the warp should be thin, strong, twisted linen at six ends per centimeter. When the loom was ready, she left me alone. I had to create the weaving myself.

I learned there are many rules in traditional tapestry weaving; you have to hide the warp, it is not allowed to wrap different threads together, or to mix threads. The weaving line must be horizontal. I heard all of this information later; nobody really taught me how to weave tapestry, and I am happy about that. My weaving is not traditional tapestry weaving. I think it can be described as impressionism in tapestry. I don’t know or care about rules but want to weave freely and quickly.

Aino Kajaniemi, “Growing,” 2019.

At the beginning of my career, I thought that an artist must learn to handle strong feelings and embrace the whole world in her artwork. I began to work as a full-time artist in 1990. My parents died and my second child was born that same year; my start as an artist happened when my life was affected by extreme opposites: birth and death. I had moved to my childhood home to take care of my parents and my family stayed there after they died.

My textiles are my way of thinking. I want to transform my thoughts and ideas into something concrete, so that I can understand them. In all art, you need your senses— sight, hearing, taste, smell, and touch. The sense of touch has special richness in textile art. It is said that the sense of touch is the most emotional sense for humans. Textiles bring up memories through touch, through our skin.

When I was young, I had a lot of feelings inside me. I spent all of my energy working out my emotional life in my tapestries. The world of black and white seemed simpler, I didn’t want to add more emotion through colors. As I grew older, I could concentrate more on life outside me. Gradually, color appeared in my tapestries. When I use strong colors, I don’t want to tell a story in the work; color in itself includes messages. I feel that colors need a bigger space because they are full of energy. Adding color has brought more joy and light to my tapestries and to my life.

Aino Kajaniemi, “I’ll Take It,” 2022.

Weaving liturgical textiles also taught me to use colors. In the Evangelic Lutheran Church, we use five or six colors in church textiles: white, red, green, violet, black, and sometimes blue. I have woven liturgical textiles for seven churches and two chapels. Six of those were done with my tapestry technique.

It is good that we have many time concepts; we have the past and future, we have seconds, minutes, hours, days, and years. When I weave, I have to be present, but at same time I can be on another level—I can look back or I can plan new works. If your life is sad at that moment, you can move your mind to the future or the past. If your future or past scares you, it is better to concentrate on the present.

I work alone for many hours per day and yet a single second can be very important. Weaving is
a form of discovery; even though I have practiced this technique almost 40 years, I’m not in complete control of the threads. Chance has its role—for example when I weave a face, threads may position themselves so that a smile turns into sorrow, or anger becomes joy. One thread can change happiness to sadness.

Aino Kajaniemi, “Understanding,” 2019.

I often use textiles as symbols, such as laces, pleats, dresses, collars, socks, shoes, gloves, belt, hats, or scarves. All of these are personal, intimate items that evoke common memories. People see what they want to see in my tapestries. Once I spoke at an exhibition and said that I don’t handle erotica in my tapestries. That evening a visitor, a man, told me that my works are full of erotica!

I create finished sketches for all of my textiles before I begin to weave. I like to draw, and I like to weave. Weaving is about making decisions. How thick or thin should the threads be? Do I use single-color threads, or combine them to form different tones? Do I want the surface to be shiny or rough? Should I create effects using thicker materials? Do I want the warp threads to be packed so that the fabric is dense, or loose so that the texture of the tapestry stands out, and the fabric become almost transparent?

Nowadays I find all of my weft threads at flea markets, resulting in surprising tones and materials that appear in my color palette. I like variable surfaces and use them as a part of the story of a work. I like rough and smooth materials for the disagreement and discussion between them. I choose materials, colors, and tones as I weave.

Aino Kajaniemi. “Confidence,” 2014.

I have used linen, cotton, hemp, jute, sisal, nettle, viscose, acrylic, silk, wool, bamboo, bast, paper yarn and paper strip, horsehair and human hair, feathers, fishing line, metal wire, plastic strip and yarn, twig from a tree, birch bark, lurex, gold thread, and triacetate strips.

Flax is my favorite material: heckled flax in many thicknesses, tow flax, hand spun flax, and even unspun flax fiber. To me, silk represents luxury and the exotic, and wool suggests something homey.

When I want to add very thick material to a tapestry, I weave with ground weft for two or three passes and then pick every third warp thread from the open shed to insert the thick thread. In effect, the yarn is tied with one thread up and five threads under in one centimeter, so that it is tied down but doesn’t push the warp threads apart.

Because I use an upright loom and not a frame, I use treadles to avoid having to pick up leashes. This practice frees me to concentrate upon what matters—being expressive and the choices it requires. Sometimes I feel as if I am a part of my loom. The connection occurs in many ways. My feet treadle, my eyes watch, and my brain decides as my hands move through the threads.

Aino Kajaniemi. “Presence,” 2019.

I use butterflies or long thread pieces for weaving, and beat in the weft with an ordinary fork. During a big solo exhibition in 2015, my fork suddenly broke in two pieces. That exhibition was too much for it! I went to our kitchen and found another fork.

In my childhood family, there were five girls, and three of us are artists. One is a painter, the other is a photographer, and I am a textile artist. We have had many exhibitions together. Another lovely family experience has been working with my daughter; we have had six exhibitions together!

I am happy that I have found weaving as my life’s work. No other technique contains such rich history and is recognizable all over the world.

See more of Aino Kajaniemi’s work here.
2022
Help support wonderful articles on Scandinavian textiles with a donation to the Norwegian Textile Letter. Thank you! Tusen takk! 

Playfulness and Joy in my Atelier

By Inka Kavalo

Inka Kivalo (b. 1956) is a Finnish textile artist. After her MA studies at the University of Art and Design Helsinki, Kivalo went on to showcase her work both internationally and in Finland. Today, her work can be found in several art collections around the world.

I weave tapestries, and sometimes create animal and human shaped sculptures. For my own pleasure, I weave scarfs with plant dyed or undyed yarn. I embroider large necklaces, often adding silver or other metals. In other words; I weave, embroider, knit, appliqué and stitch. 

I am inspired by traditional textiles: the materials, fine technical properties and aesthetics. Weaving is affected by the rigidity of the loom, which one has to overcome. That is why ethnic textiles are often so spectacular, as they allow imagination to be unleashed.

My two hundred year old loom, made of the roots of spruce trees, is like a sculpture. The techniques I use are age-old; through my techniques and materials I preserve old traditions. I preserve and reform. This is how I justify my work to myself.

I enjoy making handicrafts, and became a textile artist because the blaze of colors is softer in textiles. I try to make life more beautiful.

Weaving requires you to put your heart into it, and it demands patience. It is also a manifestation of playfulness and joy, as the technical act of weaving is not substantial; vision is. I am my own handwriting. I reflect myself and then start the work.

I feel attracted to materials, because I need them, and they dictate the nature of what can be done.

Everything starts from a thread. I create a new yarn from multiple fine threads. Amidst thin cotton or silk threads there might be a golden thread, or an inherited one. I collect threads and yarns. One of my works is named after a poem by Kirsti Simonsuuri called “Väreilee kuin lanka” (“Ripples like a thread”).

My woven artworks are like windows to colorful worlds. They do not express anything straightforwardly, they just hint at the right direction, unveiling the atmosphere.

Inka Kivalo. Big Miniature, 2008. Photo: Johnny Korkman

To inspire my work, I often choose a palette of new and fascinating color tones. I might think – should I use the golden colors of Lassila’s farm rooster? Should I use the purples of a thunderstorm? 

Inka Kivalo. Revoir, 2022. Photo: Chikako Hirada

The weave itself is the theme of my work. I work with a simple plain weave by manipulating it. Afterwards I might appliqué or stitch the fabric with some surplus material. I do it in such a manner that the end result will be vaguely spontaneous-looking and richer, and that the slow work process would lead to a liberating finale.

I often use a framework theme; in a way I look inwards and outwards. It is, on one hand, about the feeling of safety, framing and human edges, but then, the patterns can also float on the surface, respecting no boundaries.

Once in a while I make sculptures. Initially they were elephants, sheep, and horses; later I made stylized human figures and heads. The role of my sculptures has always been the role of being an audience in the exhibition hall. 

Inka Kivalo. “Towards Something Else,” 2020. Photo: Chikako Hirada

Recently I added embroidery to my sculptures. With embroidery the textile sculptures become more about the surface than just their form. It is possible to embroider layers upon layers on top of the surface.

Inka Kivalo. “Dark Lady,” 2018. Photo: Chikako Hirada

When I was young I used to paint and take part in exhibitions for young artists. I felt like I was a painter. That was the background for my textile print designs. My drafts were painted in a factory hall on a finished fabric, so they were easy to put on display in planning meetings.

Printed textiles were my material in numerous museum exhibitions in the late 1980s. I built installations by sewing fabrics together and framing them. I created walls, houses, projections of windows and doors, a labyrinth of mirrors and edges; with names like Hotel Giorno; House and Garden;  and The Sun Was Shining, If I Remember Correctly… 

I began to make scarves and necklaces, at first only for myself. Scarves are more than just scarves. They are a study of the rhythm of stripes, colors and hues. My scarves feature braided trimmings and a thin stripe which continues over the edges as a braid. I use Finnish plant-dyed or natural sheep wool. 

At first I knitted scarves from natural thread, like the darker shades of black and grey sheep wool. I aimed for an architectural and ethnic character. Later I met an artisan at a marketplace who was selling plant-dyed yarn that was dyed in a creative manner, with blurred hues and multiple dyes. What a blissful feeling when you find an inspirational material!

There is a curious feature when embroidering necklaces; I get away from the stillness of the loom to the fluidity of necklace making. The most important tools for embroidering are rather simple: a thread, a needle, a fabric, and possibly, a small, round embroidery hoop. My necklaces always become quite large, because the size is relative to the way I sew.

A tapestry, a sculpture, a fabric installation, a scarf or a necklace—each one is a mirror into the world I see, feel, and experience. 

See more of Inka Kival’s unique tapestry work here.
2022
Help support wonderful articles on Scandinavian textiles with a donation to the Norwegian Textile Letter. Thank you! Tusen takk! 

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! 

Flamskväv (Tapestry) in Skåne, Sweden: Then and Now

By Marianne Asp

Marianne Asp’s modern use of Flamskväv, in a jacket modeled by her daughter. Photo provided by Marianne Asp.

Weavers from Flanders came to Skåne (southwestern Belgium and northwestern France) as early as the beginning of the 16th century. At the royal castles, tapestries were hung as decoration and as protection against cold and drafts from cold stone walls.

The weavers were men who lived in a castle until a tapestry was finished and then moved to the next castle and the next weaving task. Famous battles and pictures from the Bible were depicted. The tapestries were large, usually around 13′ x 19′ (400cm x 600cm).

The weavers had a pattern collection (cartoons) from which the nobility ordered motifs. By the 17th century, tapestries became less popular and male weavers could not support themselves and their families. Weaving then became a task for women and the art of weaving tapestry transitioned from a profession to handicraft.

At the same time, folk artists, mainly in southwestern Skåne, began to weave tapestry. The land was very fertile in that region, and supported servants working in the fields. Women on the farms had time to weave and embroider. The largest production was in 1750 – 1850.

Swedish digital Library image: https://digitaltmuseum.se/011023369651/akedyna. Unbleached linen warp, wool weft. “The Lion Castle ” is surrounded by flowers and flying birds, framed by a blue zigzag border. It has wool fringe and a back of red calfskin. Woven in 1790 by Bengta Olsdotter. The motif is described in Ernst Fischer Flamskvävnader i Skåne, pp. 280-283. 

Large cushions called äkdynor became status symbols; a sign that you were rich. The cushions were used on Sundays, when traveling to church by horse and carriage. Most important was the bride’s journey to church before her wedding: she could sit on up to ten cushions!

The images were religious or taken from folklore. Flowers and birds were also depicted, strewn throughout the image. The cushion dimension were usually 20″ x 39″ (50cm x 100cm). The joy of color is evident, and there are many shades.

https://digitaltmuseum.se/011023711729/akdyna. No date given. Very large flowers and vases; very small people! Look closely to find charming birds. 

Museums and handcraft organizations in Sweden play an important role in maintaining interest in handcrafts. Handcraft consultants teach courses in Flamskväv and handicraft stores sell all needed materials. the classes have been completely full in the past year.

We who weave Flamskväv have a responsibility to carry on the knowledge, tradition and joy of weaving.

Flamskväv by Marianne Asp. Photo provided by Marianne Asp.

Marianne Asp teaches traditional Swedish tapestry, Flamskväv, with Hemslojd (the Handcraft Association) in Skåne, Sweden. She has also taught at Sätergläntan. She has woven in a variety of techniques for many years, but always returns to Flamskväv, inspired by the richness of color and pattern in the old tapestries. 

To delve more into the tapestries of Skåne, see Anne Whidden’s post in the Swedish Rug Blog, “Traditional Swedish Tapestry Weave.”

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! 

 

Reconstructing Tapestry Cushions for the Oslo City Hall

By Robbie LaFleur 

If you visit Oslo, be sure to visit the Rådhus (City Hall). The enormous rooms hold monumental frescoes and tapestries, including Lilletorget (1950), designed by Kåre Jonsborg. When it was woven by Else Halling and assistants, it was the largest tapestry woven in Norway to date, at 12’ x 24.5’. 

In the main hall, a long marble bench flanks one wall, lined with 60(!) tapestry-woven cushions. Thirteen seat cushions with 26 back cushions are woven with a dark background. Seven seat cushions with 14 back cushions have a light background.

Tapestry cushions in the main hall of Oslo City Hall. 

The covers were designed by Else Poulsson (1909-2002) and made by several weavers with Husflid (the Norwegian Handicraft Association) in 1949-1950. Poulsson won other textile design competitions for the new building. A monumental tapestry depicting St. Hallvard, patron saint of Oslo, was hung in the City Council chambers in 1948. In other spaces are tablecloths, upholstery, and curtains by the famed designer.

The bench cushions received seventy years of heavy use; they were worn, stained, and faded. You could see areas with old repairs, and the warp was visible in places. The City administration decided to fund a reconstruction of the cushions, as close as possible to the originals. They contracted with Kristin Sæterdal to outline the scope of the project, including the materials needed and the techniques to be used. 

Sæterdal’s report, “Test Project for Cushion Covers,” was quite thorough. She identified the correct warp, Bockens linen 8/4 (although she mentioned that cotton warp could be chosen too, because it wears out less). She identified the tapestry techniques to be used and gave instructions for fashioning the tapestry into cushions. She drew the cartoons and completed her plan for the preliminary reconstruction in 2020. 

Tapestry techniques to be used: Pointed dovetail (fig. 1), Steps (fig. 2), Outlining (fig. 3)

Based on Sæterdal’s estimates made during the trial, 80 kilos of thick yarn were ordered from the Hoelfeldt-Lund spinnery. The yarn was dyed at Sandnes Garn (Sandnes Yarn). Colors for the 28 kilos of light yarn and 52 kilos of sheep brown yarn were based on samples from the existing cushion covers.

This is a sample for the ORIGINAL project, woven by Else Poulsen. Owned by the Norsk Folkemuseum. https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023236221/hyndetrekk-prove-til

Dorthe Herup was chosen to head the project in February 2022, and she has a team of four weavers to help reconstruct the cushions. Herup wrote about the importance of the wool that will be used. 

“The original textile was woven with spelsau yarn from Spinnerigården and the choice of yarn is important for the appearance and qualities of the textile. Spinnerigården still exists and Per Hoelfeldt Lund, who originally spun the yarn, is still alive. Yarn for this reproduction was spun in 2021 by Per Hoelfeldt Lund. Thus, the yarn is supplied by the same manufacturer as the original. This was also important to us.”

It is wonderful that two well-known contemporary tapestry artists are involved. Kristin Sæterdal conducted the initial research, and Dorthe Herup will lead the project to completion. Kristin Sæterdal’s tapestries are more likely to include spaceships and technology than the geometric historical cushion design, reminiscent of the Viking Age.  Dorthe Herup weaves figures in a unique technique, honoring people and families over generations. 

It is commendable that Oslo city officials understand the importance of reconstructing the original tapestry cushions. They estimate the entire project should take 2-½ years. If you visit Oslo City Hall after that, admire the beautiful tapestries and frescos and then rest on the beautiful cushions. But don’t spill your coffee. 

Marta Kløve Juuhl from Bergen, Norway, is one of the four project weavers. Her first cushion cover is shown in process. 

Read more: 

Longbers, Ingeborg. “Modern Norwegian Tapestries.” Handweaver & Craftsman, Winter 1953-54, p. 12-13. More information about the tapestries in Oslo City Hall. 

Sundbø, Annemor. “Norwegian Tapestry in the Post-War Years.” Norwegian Textile Letter, August, 2021. 

Sæterdal, Kristin, “Test project for Cushion Covers.” In Norwegian, but with interesting illustrations. On the Project Documentation page, click on the link for “Vedlegg 1_Forprosjekt rådhusbenk, av Kristin Sæterdal.pdf” and the document will automatically download. 

To view the extent of beautiful architecture and ornamentation in Oslo City Hall, see this page from the city’s art collection website: Oslo rådhus.

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

 

 

 

Art Weaving in Valdres–Part Four

By Karin Mellbye Gjesdahl 

The following is part four of an article by Karin Melbye Gjesdahl, “Weaving in Valdres” [“Vevkunst I Valdres”] published in Valdres Bygdebok, Vol. 5, 1964, pp. 59-74. (A bygdebok is a compilation of local history.) Translated by Lisa Torvik, 2021. (Part one. Part two. Part three.)

From Øystre Slidre there is also a cushion and a pillow cover on which a vase with stylized flowers, grape bunches and clusters of leaves are represented. (O.K. 8038 and 6041).  This was a favorite motif during the 1500s and 1600s but these [examples] must be relatively later works since the motif is highly stylized and disorganized.  It is even doubtful that the cushion cover is of Norwegian origin at all.   That is to say it is woven with interlocking technique, not the usual hatching technique which is for the most part used in Norwegian tapestry weaving.  The yellow-brown and blue-green colors in which it is woven are in any case associated with more urban-influenced works.

We have also preserved a number of pillow covers from Valdres with almost geometric patterns.  It will be going too far afield  to discuss each one separately. – We have eight-petaled roses in octagonal frames (fig. 29) or placed in a stair-stepped rectangle set on edge (fig. 30) and crossed lilies arranged in the same way (fig. 31).  The one with the stair-stepped rectangles has essentially the same motif as the borders on the dated virgin-design covers.  Even though these geometric motifs are ancient in textile art, all these pillow covers are of a relatively later date.  One is from Skogstad, and another from Nygard [both] in Vang.  The latter is very monotonous in tones, using only gold and blue colors with a little black and white, while several of the other [covers] are woven in bright colors.

Fig. 29.Pillow cover in tapestry weaving (40 x 45 cm.)  Valdres Folk Museum (1295). https://digitaltmuseum.no/021025595820/putetrekk

Fig. 30. Pillow cover in tapestry weaving. (47 x 41 cm.) Valdres Folk Museum (701). https://digitaltmuseum.no/021025595783/putetrekk

Fig. 31. Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Skogstad, Vang (57 x 48 cm.) Valdres Folk Museum (3879). https://digitaltmuseum.no/021028601845/putetrekk

A couple of the pillow covers are designed with large, nearly octagonal frames with an eight-petaled rose in the center and S-shaped figures all around (fig. 32).  The octagonals consist of a broad striped border, a motif which we often find on the pillow covers from Trøndelag.  One of these pillow covers comes from Vang [in Valdres] (NF 224-99).  We also find the same striped frames on another pillow case, constructed of rectangles set on end with crosses and S-shaped figures (fig. 33).  All in all it appears that we can detect in the Valdres works certain features that are characteristic of tapestry weaving in South Trøndelag. The large, pointed crowns on some of the virgin-design pillow covers and the stair-stepped borders, for example, are features which we also find in tapestry weaving from South Trøndelag. Has there been a connection here, or is it just a result of both districts depending on models from Gudbrandsdal? 

 

Fig. 32. Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Vang [in Valdres] (54 x 47 cm.) Norwegian National Folk Museum (224-99) .https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023126629/putetrekk

Fig. 33. Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Valdres (60 x 55 cm.)  County Museum in Skien [Telemark Museum] (2707).

Lastly we will mention a pillow cover from Lomen [Vestre Slidre, Valdres], now at the Norwegian National Folk Museum (484-97), which is entirely unique with its strongly stylized pattern, roses bound with some comb-like ornamentation, which most likely has vines as the original model (fig. 34).  It is probably based on a pattern from nature, but here it is given an almost geometric form and has to that extent adapted itself to the language of textile design.  On the other hand, the colors do not work entirely comfortably with gold, brick red, dark blue and green and some natural black and white.  Both the color selections and the motif’s strong stylization indicate that the pillow cover is probably a later work.  

Fig. 34.  Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Lomen [Vestre Slidre, Valdres] (47 x 57 cm.) Norwegian National Folk Museum (484-97).

If we therefore will summarize the conclusion we have reached, after having gone through the essential [works] which survive of tapestry weaving in Valdres, it is that there are not many concrete results we can point to.

But we must in any case be allowed to believe that there has been tapestry weaving in Valdres.  Not all of this can be imported.  For the most part and in any case the same patterns and motifs found in other tapestry weaving districts are also found in Valdres.  The only works which really stand out as a singular group are the 3 dated virgin-design pillow covers (fig. 21, 22 and 23–in Part Three). In addition, the pillow cover with the 10 virgins (fig. 11–in Part Three) stands out amongst our tapestry weavings and can possibly be considered an original Valdres creation.  If we dare believe that the three holy kings tapestry ringed by animals in the Nordiska Museum (see figure X in Part Two)  and the virgins tapestry at Valdres Folk Museum (fig. 9–in Part Three) are created in Valdres, ones which belong to the earliest development of these motifs, the [Valdres] valley must have been involved relatively early, as Kielland says. (Thor B. Kielland: Norwegian Tapestry Weaving 1550-1800, Vol. I, pg. 103.).

Moreover it is of course possible that research with a closer analysis of technical details, materials, etc. can achieve more definite results.

In terms of geography it appears that of the 28 works that have been tied to a particular location [in Valdres], 11 are from Vang, 8 are from Øystre Slidre, 7 are from Vestre Slidre, 1 is from Bagn and 1 is from Hedalen. It is first and foremost the upper districts [in Valdres] which are represented.  Of course, chance could play a part here.  Most of these works now are found in museums and very many of them were acquired by speculative buyers.  They can have concentrated their efforts in the upper districts.  Or is it conceivable that the upper districts did not fall under the influence of urban society and industrialization and preserved their distinctive qualities and their keepsakes from the older culture? One might in any case believe that when the preponderance [of artifacts] is so great for the upper districts that it must rest on something more than an accident.  It also appears that Eilert Sundt [1817-1875, theologian and pioneer in folk life research] as early as 1867 has made the same observation in his book Regarding Home Craft in Norway [Om husfliden i Norge].

Works in other weaving techniques are also preserved in Valdres.  Close to tapestry weaving in choice of motif and pattern are the pillow covers in half-pile [halv-floss] though the technique is entirely different.  And since pile weaving is to a large degree bound to the weave’s structure, it is especially the simpler, geometric designs which are used.  The pattern of the yarn knotted into it stands out in relief against the rep-woven ground fabric.  The technique is for the most part the same as with rya or cut pile rugs except that here the yarn Is knotted in rows the entire width of the weaving with a few shots of ground weft in between.  We have seen in the estate settlements that such rugs have been in use in Valdres, but none of these are preserved.  However there are 8 pillow covers in half-pile from Valdres.  These must be what the estate settlements call “bumpy cushions” [noppete hynder].

A red ground color appears to have been common.  In any case it is found in 5 of these pillow covers.  On a couple of them, heart-like figures are the main motif (fig. 35). 

Fig. 35.  Pillow cover in half-pile (ca. 47 x 39 cm.)  Valdres Folk Museum (698). https://digitaltmuseum.no/021025595770/putetrekk

One from the Norwegian National Folk Museum depicts a double cross , approximately the same design as on the double weave in Ulnes church (fig. 36). It is essentially the same motif which in coverlet [åkle] weaving goes by the name “nine-rose” [nirosen]. 

Fig. 36.  Pillow cover in half-pile from Røn, V. Slidre (55 x 54 cm.) Norwegian National Folk Museum (133-95). https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023121527/putetrekk

Highly stylized trees in different shapes are also found on a couple of pieces (fig. 37). 

Fig. 37.  Pillow cover in half-pile from Bagn [South Aurdal, Valdres].  Nordiska Museum [Stockholm] (21.595). Photo: Nord. Mus. https://digitaltmuseum.se/011023342340/stolsdyna

On a pillow cover from Øystre Slidre in Nordiska Museum [Stockholm] we find a motif that is much used in double weaves from Gudbrandsdal, divided squares with hooks in the corners (fig. 38).  [This is] a pattern which we find on 6 pillow covers in half-pile from Gudbrandsdal but those are without borders, while ours [from Valdres] are surrounded by squares set on end. 

Fig. 38.  Pillow cover in half-pile from Ø. Slidre (56 x 56 cm.) Nordiska Museum [Stockholm] (21.484). Photo: Nord. Mus. https://digitaltmuseum.se/011023341996/sladdyna

A couple of pillow covers in the County Museum in Skien [now Telemark Museum] look very primitive.  The one has a blue square set on end inside a rectangular area and surrounded by a zig-zag border in blue, yellow and red on a moss-brown ground (fig. 39). 

Fig. 39. Pillow Cover in half-pile from Valdres (64 x 62 cm.)  County Museum in Skien [Telemark Museum] (2528).

The other has a delicate pattern with crosses, dots, squares and zig-zag lines in natural black, white and red on a yellow ground (fig. 40).  The ground fabric here is not the usual woven in wool on a linen warp, but instead both the warp and weft are thin wool woven in twill.  I think that the overall effect is remarkably old-fashioned but the pattern is however so simple that it could easily be either an early or later work.

Fig. 40. Pillow cover in half-pile from Valdres. (59 55 cm.) County Museum in Skien [Telemark Museum] (2705).

For the most part, the patterns on these pillow covers are so simple that they are almost timeless, so I think we will refrain from any attempt at dating them.  Two of these works are from Bagn, one is from Vestre and one from Øystre Slidre.  The others have not been traced to more precise locations. 

With what we know of the close contact between Valdres and Western Norway, we would expect to find a great many western-style coverlets in Valdres.  Just as [pictorial] tapestry weaving had its center in Gudbrandsdal, the geometrically woven coverlets [ruteåklær] have had their widest dissemination in Western Norway.  However, remarkably, we do not find many such coverlets from Valdres.  Valdres Folk Museum has a few, a severely damaged one is found in Bagn Bygdesamling [South Aurdal] and the County Museum in Skien [Telemark Museum] has a couple of geometically patterned pillow covers, i.e. in rutevev.  A few are also preserved on farms in the area.  The catalog of a textile exhibit at Valdres Folk High School in 1951 mentions some coverlets and pillow covers, but it appear that they were for the most part more recent works, probably the result of weaving courses which were started up at the end of the [19th] century to revive Norway’s national art weaving.

The coverlet in the Bagn Bygdesamling [local collection now under the umbrella of the Valdres Folk Museum] belongs to a group of coverlets which are very uniform in regard to technique and pattern, and tapestries of this type are widespread over all of Western Norway.  The majority of the rest of the western-style coverlets can, on the other hand, be divided into distinctive local types.  Common for this western group is that they are very painstakingly woven, with almost no mistakes and are identical on the front and back sides.  That is to say they are woven with single interlocking technique where the colors are changed so that no distinct back side is created as in most of the others.  They are also thinner and lighter than the other coverlets because they are woven with thinner yarn, and the warp is also often wool.  The motif is an eight-petaled rose in an octagonal frame, which is often repeated 4 times and arranged in 2 rows, one above the other.  The tapestry in the Bagn Bygdesamling is made with this format but the colors diverge somewhat from the usual.  They are brick red, white and natural black with blue-green frames while the background color is yellow.  Red-violet and brown-gold colors are, however, the most commonly used in the rest of this group.  In addition there is a little peculiarity with this [Bagn] tapestry.  The lowest part of the coverlet is much more uneven and more crudely woven than the rest of the tapestry and it is woven with double interlocking technique.  The uniform appearance and painstaking technique which otherwise characterizes this group indicates, I believe, that we see here a professional weaver or weaving studio, perhaps continuing through several generations.  A couple of the dated [works] show that they span a longer period of time.  It could be that a weaver has traveled around from farm to farm and woven, as we know certain women weavers did in the rural districts of Trøndelag.  Our [Bagn] tapestry which belonged to the Islandsmoen family and perhaps originates from Brøta [farm] in Bagn can therefore possibly have been started by a professional traveling weaver but for some reason been left unfinished in the [upright] loom, and later finished by a more unskilled person at home on the farm.

The coverlets at Valdres Folk Museum are all constructed according to a simple, purely geometric pattern with concentric, stair-stepped squares, one of the oldest compositions we know of.  The size of the squares can vary and sometimes they are extended more in width, but the basic pattern is the same.  One of the coverlets has a somewhat smaller, cramped character which leads one’s thoughts to the Hardanger tapestries (fig. 41).  It appears a bit stark in its colors with a lot of black and white, besides some red, blue, yellow and olive green.  It too is probably a later work. 

Fig. 41.  Coverlet in geometric tapestry weaving [rutevev]  (162 x 140 cm.) Valdres Folk Museum.

Calmer and more muted in color is another, created according to the same pattern, but where the figures are smaller as there are not as many rows with squares within squares (fig. 42). 

Fig. 42. Coverlet in geometric tapestry weaving [rutevev]  (162 x 148 cm.) Valdres Folk Museum (697). https://digitaltmuseum.no/021028399767/teppe

This one is mainly red, blue-green, a little blue and white on a yellow ground.  The top and bottom are finished with narrow rows of red and gray on a yellow ground, and broader hatched borders [kerringtenner] and inlayed patterns (fig. 43).  Besides the concentric squares, the top and bottom borders are in zig-zag patterns.  Colors are yellow, red, brown, white, gray and a little blue. 

Fig. 43. Coverlet in geometric tapestry weaving [rutevev] at Valdres Folk Museum (196 x 120 cm.) (2334). https://digitaltmuseum.no/021028404633/teppe

One coverlet, almost like ours [in Valdres], is found at the Hallingdal Folk Museum.  John Leirhol in Vang [Valdres] also has one that is made with the same design, though the zig-zag borders have disappeared and the square pattern has instead been repeated three times.  The measurements here are the same as for a common coverlet 171 x 128 cm.  What is unusual is that the warp is of wool.  Otherwise, this is the same type of composition that is used on certain Sogn tapestries with division into a number of horizontal borders.  The two pillow covers at the County Museum in Skien [Telemark Museum] and one belonging to John Leirhol are woven in the same simple pattern with stair-stepped squares (fig. 44).

Fig. 44.  Pillow cover in geometric weaving from Valdres. (65 x 53 cm.) County Museum in Skien [Telemark Museum] (2708).

Aside from the two works in the possession of John Leirhol in Vang and the coverlet from Bagn there is no further information about where some of these weavings originate.  The uniform choice of pattern could perhaps indicate that some of this work is woven in Valdres.   But we also must of course figure on importation from Western Norway.  Here again it is difficult to ascertain dates.  Such simple geometric patterns have certainly been used again and again for generations and have belonged to the treasury of textile motifs throughout history.  Perhaps the choice of colors can tell us something.  In Western Norway the preponderance of geometrically woven coverlets appears to have been woven in the 1700s, but continued into the 1800s.

Though the geometrically woven coverlets have not been especially numerous in Valdres, another group of tapestries has on the other hand been very widely found in Valdres, the so-called “christening tapestries”, woven in an overshot technique called skillbragd.  In some parts [of Norway] these tapestries are called Swedish tapestries [svensketepper].  A number of the Swedish tapestries listed in the estate settlements must surely be such tapestries woven in skillbragd, although, as mentioned earlier, they could also have been woven in other techniques.  In the estate settlements they are described as bed clothes, coverlets or tapestries and they were often used as covers [on one side] of sheepskins or pile rugs.  We don’t know when they were first used as christening tapestries [kristnetepper], but the custom is also known in other districts.  Several people in Valdres report that a tapestry like this was hung over the high seat [at table] during Christmas, usually with a special Christmas cloth over it.  It appears that there is nowhere in Norway this was so common as in the northernmost districts of Valdres [Øystre and Vestre Slidre and Vang].  This is certainly not only the result of Swedish import, but because such tapestries were actually woven in the valley.  Eilert Sundt, in his book “Regarding home craft in Norway” of 1867, tells us of two women weavers in Vang, Ambjør Olsdatter Berge and Randi Knutsdatter Gaasedeilden, “both of whom weave for sale over all of Valdres and especially in Sogn the so-called Christian tapestries, a type of tapestry of beautiful weaving which is used to wrap children when they are carried to baptism.”  At the textile exhibition in Valdres in 1951 there were a number of christening tapestries and the names of the weavers were displayed on several of them.

The pattern of these coverlets is fairly uniform.  The ground is commonly of natural [unbleached], handspun linen, woven on two harnesses, and the pattern is formed by loose threads laid in [i.e. overshot] with thin, single strand wool yarn. On some tapestries, the linen can be replaced with cotton.  The most common pattern appears to be a division of the entire piece into quadrangles and rectangles which in turn are divided into squares by a simple twill pattern, small squares on edge [“goose-eye”], pointed oval figures or similar (fig. 45). 

Fig. 45.  Tapestry in skillbragd.  “Kristneteppe” from Reien, V. Slidre. (162 x 124 cm.) Owner Margit Skogstad. 

But there are also tapestries with other patterns.  Less common is a tapestry which appears to have a wave-like water pattern, divided into horizontal borders (fig. 46)  

Fig. 46. Tapestry in skillbragd.  «Kristneteppe» from Vang (124 x 155 cm.)  Owner Johannes Leithe.

Some rather later examples show the entire piece filled with eight-petaled roses.  One such from Vang is reported to be woven in the 1860s-1870s by Margrethe Tørstad (fig. 47).  The ground of this one is woven in cotton. 

Fig. 47.  Tapestry in skillbragd.  «Kristneteppe» and «Christmas cloth» [julehåndkle] from Vang.  (126 x 168 cm.)  Owner M. Thune, Grindaheim [Vang in Valdres]

The colors of the weft can vary.  No doubt most common are red, green, natural black, yellow and some blue.  Other colors such as violet and blue-green can appear in some later tapestries.  All are woven in two lengths of approx. 60 cm. wide [and sewn together, side by side.]  The length can vary from about 150 to 170 cm.

On some of these tapestries, a rectangular area in the middle is woven in using lighter shades (fig. 46).  In certain locations tapestries with lighter area such as this are called “mirror coverlets”.  They are known in several parts [of Norway] and also in other techniques, such as double weave.  This “mirror” has been interpreted in different ways.  Originally, this certainly was tied to the use of these tapestries.  In both Sweden and from other parts [of Norway] it is reported that they were used as coffin coverlets, either laid over the coffin or with the coffin set upon them.  In Sweden this “mirror” is in some places called “the minister’s square” [prestrutan] and some believe that the tapestries have been used as table cloths and the square indicates the minister’s place at the table.  Combined use as both coffin coverlets and christening tapestries is also known in some districts here [in Norway.]  Helen Engelstad has suggested in Double Weave in Norway (Dobbeltvev i Norge, 1958) that it was possibly believed that these tapestries had protective power and could shield against evil spirits.  As far as I know, there is no such tradition in Valdres of using these tapestries as coffin coverlets, but there are many reports, on the other hand, that they were hung over the high seat during Christmas.

These skillbragd tapestries appear to be especially in use in the northern part of Valdres.  There they are still found on most of the farms, while they are not common in South Aurdal or Etnedal.  Which of these tapestries are imported and which are woven in the local community is difficult to determine.  For that matter they are too little researched both here [in Norway] and in Sweden.  Date determination is also difficult.  Largely the same patterns have been woven again and again right up to the present day.  Some of the tapestries are said to be from the [19th] century and certain ones woven in the 1700s, but such dates are often unreliable.  Even how old the skillbragd technique is in Scandinavia has not yet been properly researched.  Here [in Norway] we have a couple of examples of this technique from the 1500s but whether these pieces were made here is uncertain.

“Drill”-patterned coverlets [dreiel in Norwegian, dräll in Swedish] in wool are another category of thin, light coverlets which are very widespread in Valdres, and these too especially in the northern districts.  They are woven of single-ply, thin wool yarn, both in the warp and weft in 3-harness twill and sewn together from two lengths.  Many of them are in very beautiful colors.  Usually they are of somewhat darker shades, as for example black, red and green.  But more multicolored tapestries are also common.   We see the same dreiel patterns as are woven in tablecloths: squares and rectangles put together in different ways.  A certain variation can also be achieved by creating squares with different colors in the warp and the weft. (Fig. 48 and 49)

Fig. 48. Tapestry in dreiel from Dale [farm], Ø. Slidre (179 x 123 cm).  Owner Anna Kvien, Vang.

Fig. 49. Tapestry in dreiel from North Aurdal (169 x 148 cm). Owner Målfrid Ranum, Ulnes [V. Slidre]

Such coverlets were often used as the top side of padded bedcovers, and the textile exhibition in Valdres also had a sheepskin backed with a cover in dreiel.   One single time such a textile has been termed “kristneteppe”, so it appears that skillbragd tapestries and dreiel tapestries have in part been interchangeable.  I do not dare say that these tapestries are unique to Valdres.  I have not found them in other places.  In the textile catalog for Valdres, one of these coverlets is listed as coming from “grandmother in Hallingdal,” but such tapestries are in any case not known there today.  It is not easy to say how far back in time we can trace these tapestries.  None are dated.  Most of those existing today are from the end of the [19th] century.  Some are reported to be from the years 1830-1840, and one particular one from approximately 1740, but it is certainly unknown if this is correct.  In the Valdres estate settlements, certain 3-harness bedcovers are named since the early 1700s.  It is possible they can have been such dreiel coverlets.

We have now gone through the most significant of that which is preserved of old, woven textiles from Valdres, but we have not looked more closely at who created these works.  As mentioned earlier, most of the farms were self-sufficient in regard to common functional textiles, but as Anne Ødegaard says in her book Life and play in Valdres [Liv og leik i Valdres]:  “Coverlet and kristneteppe…only one or two wove” [“Åklæ o kristnetæpe…va de berre ei o an som vov”.]   The somewhat romantic notion that every farm wife of yesteryear was an artist in the loom must now be abandoned.  Just as the rural communities had their specialist craftspeople, so too has the more artistic and complex weaving been the specialty for some.  As we have seen, Eilert Sundt has given us the names of two professional weavers of the [19th] century, who specialized in weaving skillbragd tapestries.  But most are anonymous today.  Such skill in weaving can possibly have been handed down by women of the same family through several generations.  We know this at any rate from other parts of the country.  Anne Ødegaard also mentions a Berit Christiansdotter Ellestad (1819-1875), who learned to weave at the Eugenia Foundation in the 1830s:  “There are still some of her beautiful coverlets in the area and some by women descendents who have maintained the art of weaving to nearly the same level.”  As mentioned, we must also consider the weavers who traveled around from farm to farm in the same way as the tailors, the cobblers and the baker women in times gone by.  It was often widows or wives from smaller farms who in this way earned necessary income, as Helen Engelstad relates of the conditions in Trøndelag in her book Double Weave in Norway.  But in regard to pictorial tapestry weaving we must figure on dedicated weaving studios.  Just thinking about a tapestry which is approximated 2 meters high, it requires an upright loom in somewhat larger width.  Pictorial tapestries were usually woven from the reverse side with the figures horizontal.  It is always easiest to weave horizontal lines and areas this way.  According to the latest research pictorial tapestry weaving was most likely done on an upright loom with a beam at the top and bottom (Martha Hoffmann: A group of looms in Western Norway), and it was not just anyone who would have had such a loom over 2 meters wide.  We have no trace of such weaving studios in Valdres.  A couple of estate settlements list quite a quantity of yarn and weaving material, but possibly not more than there was use for in a larger traditional household.  The settlement in 1699 of Ole Sivertson, married to Anne Mikkelsdatter, from Kollstad [farm] in Rogne, Øystre Slidre registers 2 “b.-pund” [a bismerpund equaled just under 6 kilograms after 1683] black wool, 14 mrkr. white, 12 mrkr. gray, 18 mrkr. black warp, 4 mrkr. gray warp, 14 mrkr. tow yarn, 6 alen black homespun wool cloth, 21 alen hemp tabby cloth.  [“Merker” pl. of “mark”, unit of weight since Viking times, set to equal 250 grams in 1875 when the metric system adopted in Norway.  Alen was an ancient measure of length, most recently set at 62.75 cm around the same time.]   There is no mention here of Flemish or pictorial tapestry weaving, only “lesnings” and “brøtnings” bed clothes [See definitions in Part One of this article], and some bench cushions and pillows.  On Rudj, a farm in Reinli [South Aurdal], it is mostly hemp and flax that are listed in the settlement from 1707:  1 b.pund hemp, ½ b.pund flax, ½ b.pund homespun wool weft, 1 b.pund and 8 mrkr. wool warp, 6 shocks of hemp, 28 alen black hemp tow yarn.  No Flemish weaving found here either, only bedclothes in 3-harness and “lesnings” weave, 1 dreiel-woven bed curtain with blue flowers and 1 bed blanket with white, blue and red stripes.

The oldest estate settlements do not mention looms, but that must be due to simpler wooden equipment not being registered.  From the end of the 1600s, however, we find them in most of the settlements.  But we don’t see any detailed description of what type of looms these were.  “A loom with all that belongs to it”, “a loom with equipment” are the most common notations.  A couple of times “a rør loom with all related equipment” is listed.  This probably means a flat loom, where “rør” means a reed of cane.  “A couple of old looms” which is found in 2 different estate settlements can possibly indicate an upright [warp-weighted] loom. The low valuation here of 16 skilling and 3 mark, respectively, suggests that these are not two looms but rather that “a couple” refers to the two “upright supports”. It appears in any case that where “a couple” is used in the estate settlements, it does not describe 2 objects of the same type, but 2 like parts of the same object.  Had there been 2 looms spoken of, there would certainly have been termed “tvende.”  [means “two” in Dano-Norwegian]

The wool which is used in these textiles is usually the shiny, fine spælsau wool which gives sheen and life to the old weavings.  But it appears that Valdres has not always had enough wool.  To some extent they have been dependent on import [of wool] from Western Norway.  In [Hermundstad’s] Old Valdres Culture. Family Legacy his source relates: “Wool was expensive.  And it was seldom enough of it. They had to buy a lot from the woolmen who came from the west”.   In contrast, it appears that it was very common to cultivate flax, even on the small tenant farms.  Even sewing thread was spun and plied on the farm until the middle of the [19th] century.  Perhaps one of the reasons that skillbragd tapestries became so popular in Valdres is that they require relatively little wool.

All things considered we can well say that Valdres offers a richly varied picture of the textile furnishings of former times, all the way from the double weave tapestries of the Middle Ages in Lomen and Ulnes churches to the skillbragd and dreiel tapestries of the [19th] century.  And when the living room was decorated for celebration with woven tapestries, bench cushions and pillows, these textiles with their gay colors and varying patterns certainly helped give the room color and warmth.    

Editor’s note: Thank you so much to the translator of this significant history, Lisa Torvik. Lisa is not only a talented translator (especially with nynorsk!), but a magnificent weaver, too. We were not able to find good digital museum photos for the examples of kristnetepper noted in the article; most were from private collections. But here is a photo of a traditional Valdres kristneteppe woven by Lisa. 

The first three parts of the “Art Weaving in Valdres” essay were published in 2021. See: “Art Weaving in Valdres: Part One of Four“, and “Art Weaving in Valdres: Part Two of Four“, and “Art Weaving in Valdres–Part Three (Tapestry Cushion Covers).”

Frida Hansen: A Brief Biography

By Robbie LaFleur

The rediscovery of Southward (Sørover) is an excellent occasion to celebrate Frida Hansen (1855-1931) and Norwegian tapestry traditions once again. Southward displays her mastery of the Art Nouveau style she loved, yet centers on a theme of Norse mythology. The abundance of pattern and areas of clear, strong color echo historical Norwegian tapestries, as does the beautifully finished reverse side, with sewn-in threads making the back as lovely as the front. So Art Nouveau, so Norwegian, so beautiful. How did this tapestry  fit into her life and career?

Her early life remained influential

Frederikke (Frida) Bolete Petersen was born in Stavanger, Norway, in 1855. Her father was one of the wealthiest businessmen in town and she led a sheltered and privileged early life at Hillevåg, an estate outside Stavanger. She planned to be an artist early on, and had private lessons from local prominent artists, including Kitty Kielland. At age 18 she married another of the wealthiest businessmen in Stavanger, Wilhelm Severin Hansen. Her father died soon after and Frida and Wilhelm moved back to Hillevåg. 

Photo provided by Frida Hansen’s family

As a young wife, Frida Hansen threw her artistic ambitions into planning extensive gardens with roses and peonies, exotic flowers and birds—motifs she would weave her whole life. She had three children; tragically, two would die. Her life of ease and privilege ended ten years after her marriage. Her husband’s business went bankrupt during an economic depression in the 1870s and they were forced to move from Hillevåg. Her husband went abroad to seek business opportunities. Frida was entrepreneurial and opened an embroidery shop in Stavanger.

Frida Hansen was familiar with historical Norwegian weaving; her brother-in-law Carl Sundt-Hansen had an extensive collection of old pieces.  One day, as she described many years later, a person came to her embroidery shop and asked whether Frida could repair an old weaving. 

Suddenly I remembered my brother-in-law’s words, You should weave like that. It went like fire through me. That’s what I wanted to do! I would take up the old Norwegian weaving, renew it, make it available, and also make it a means of employment. And so began my life’s work, which has fulfilled my mind, my artistic desires, and my life.
–Quote from Frida Hansen family papers, as reported in Anniken Thue’s biography, Frida Hansen: En europeer i norsk tekstilkunst (Frida Hansen: A European in Norwegian Textile Art) Universitsforlaget, 1986.

1889-1899. Frida begins her life at the loom and in the studio

Frida Hansen. Birkebeiner Soldiers Smuggling Haakon Haakonson Over the Mountain, 1891. Photo: Finn Levy

Still, Hansen needed to learn how to weave, and it took some time for her to find anyone still weaving in the old techniques. She heard of a teacher in Sogn, Kjerstina Hauglum, and arranged to visit her in 1889.  After brief instruction and the purchase of an upright loom, she confidently began work on her first tapestry, over two meters high. Within a year she not only wove the huge tapestry, Birkebeiner Soldiers Smuggling Haakon Haakonson Over the Mountainbut also investigated the plant dyes she used for her yarn by interviewing elderly women in the regions of Jæren and Ryfylke, south of Stavanger. Her first foray into tapestry was very instructive, and she resolved in the future to not imitate paintings, but to create designs and figures that were more suited to the medium of weaving.

During the 1890s Frida Hansen worked to rediscover old Norwegian weaving techniques and to build a thriving weaving business to support herself and others. She was deeply interested in the qualities of Norwegian wool and historical Norwegian tapestry techniques. This was during the era of National Romanticism, when strong patriotic feelings led to the search for authentic, historical folk art. 

In 1890 she opened her first studio and dye works, “Mrs. Hansen’s Studio for Handwoven Norwegian Rugs” (Fru Hansens Atelier for haandvævde norske Tepper). After she moved her studio to Kristiania (Oslo) in 1892, she added weaving courses.  

Early in Hansen’s career, her work in reviving traditional Norwegian weaving was recognized, even in American newspapers. In 1893 she traveled to the Chicago Worlds Fair to oversee the installation of textiles in the husflidutstilling, or handcraft exhibit.

Handsome work indeed are the embroideries and tapestries which the Norse women are producing under the leadership of Mrs. Frida Hansen who furnishes artistic design and teaches the peasant women how to work them out. (Topeka State Journal, August 3, 1893.)

Hansen also exhibited a large tapestry, Dandelion (Løvetand, 1893) in the Women’s Pavilion at the Fair, commissioned by the Norwegian Feminist Association (Den Norske Kvindesagsforening). The tapestry has complex symbolism surrounding the emancipation of women, with a dandelion as the central feature, the plant that grows the more it is trod upon.

Frida Hansen. Dandelion (Løvetand, 1893) Stavanger Kunstmuseum. https://digitaltmuseum.no/021049524830/lovetand-billedvev

While Hansen was dedicated to renewing traditional Norwegian weaving, she also followed her own path as an artist. In 1894 and 1895 she took study trips abroad. She studied Medieval German art in Cologne and figure drawing in Paris. She saw the work of Symbolist artists such as Gustave Moreau and Puvis de Chavannes, and Art Nouveau artists such as Eugene Grasset, Alphonse Mucha and Paul Berton. Her affinity with Art Nouveau imagery made sense; the birds and flowers in the exotic gardens of her youth fit right in. Throughout her career she remained connected to artistic movements abroad; for example, she subscribed to the British art periodical The Studio: An Illustrated Magazine of Fine and Applied Art.

As Frida Hansen’s artistic vision evolved, some of her works were criticized for not being Norwegian enough, for having foreign influences, or for using a color palette that was not considered Norwegian. A tapestry like The Pharaoh’s Daughter (Faraos Datter, 1897) showed Hansen did not limit herself to images of Norwegian tales or myths.

Frida Hansen. Pharaoh’s Daughter (Faraos Datter, 1897) https://www.nasjonalmuseet.no/en/collection/object/OK-10284.

In 1897 Frida Hansen was awarded a patent for a special form of transparent tapestry. Wool weft for the pattern was woven on warp of plied wool, leaving portions of the warp unwoven. The open threads allowed light to shine through. The technique lent itself well to portieres (curtains), so the transparencies were often functional, as opposed to her large billedvev tapestries. While Frida Hansen wove her own art tapestries, she designed the transparencies and had them woven by others in series. Hansen’s transparencies were popular both in Norway and outside the country. 

Hansen, Frida. Mermaids (Havfruer, 1921). Details showing unwoven threads. Photo: Robbie LaFleur. See the full work here.

The studio initials woven in Southward

Also in 1897 Frida Hansen established the Norwegian Rug and Tapestry Workshop (Norsk Aaklæde og Billedtæppe-Væveri, NABV) together with Randi Blehr. Two years later the name was changed to The Norwegian Tapestry Studio (Det Norske Billedvæveri, DNB). Hansen was the director until the studio dissolved in 1904. With around twenty weavers, the DNB became one of the most important weaving studios in Europe; Frida Hansen brought Norway into the center of European textile art. 

It is important to note that Frida Hansen was a new type of artist, the first Norwegian (and perhaps the first anywhere) to both conceive her own designs and weave her own tapestries. Her accomplishments and growth as a businessperson, weaver, and artist through the 1890s were stunning. She began her first tapestry in 1889, and by 1898 wove perhaps her best known work, The Milky Way (Melkeveien). The Milky Way was exhibited at the Bergen Exhibition in 1898, in Berlin (1899) and London (1900), and purchased by the Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe in Hamburg.

Hansen, Frida. The Milky Way (Melkeveien, 1898) Photo: Robbie LaFleur

International Recognition

Both Frida Hansen’s tapestries and her transparent weavings had their biggest international breakthrough at the 1900 World Exhibition in Paris. The Norwegian Tapestry Studio (DNB) was awarded a gold medal for its collection of 45 pieces, and Frida Hansen was awarded a gold medal for her artistic merits. Four of her large pictorial tapestries were included: The Dance of Salome; The Five Wise and Five Foolish Virgins; and two tapestries from Gerhard Munthe designs, Sigurd’s Entry into Myklegaard (Constantinople) and Sigurd and Balduin. Seven of her transparent wool tapestries were shown. As a result of the fair, her works (tapestries and transparencies) were purchased by museums in Vienna, Zurich, Hamburg, Budapest, London, Stockholm, and Copenhagen–but not by Norwegian museums.

When Frida Hansen wove tapestries using themes from historical Norwegian tapestries, they were in a contemporary style. In The Dance of Salome (Salomes Dans, 1900), a sinuous Salome stands in the center of the seven-meter wide (!) tapestry.

Frida Hansen. The Dance of Salome (Salomes Dans, 1900) Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons. Owned by the Museum für Gestaltung, Zurich

It might be an understatement to say that Hansen’s Salome has a very different feel than the Salome in the lower corner of this tapestry woven during Norway’s “golden age” of tapestry, from 1550-1700.

Unidentified weaver. The Feast of Herod (Herodes Gjestebud). 1650-1750. National Museum of Norway. https://www.nasjonalmuseet.no/samlingen/objekt/OK-17383

Southward (Sørover, 1903) was purchased privately. Berthea Aske Bergh, a Brooklyn weaving instructor and socialite, was responsible for bringing Southward to the U.S. As described in a House Beautiful article in 1929, Bergh was telling a group of American art connoisseurs in New York City that Norway had a highly developed art of weaving, and that it predated many other European countries. The audience was skeptical, the article stated, so she sailed to Norway the very next week to get proof of her statements.

“Straight to Mrs. Hansen’s studio she went, where the magnificent tapestry “Southward” stood on the loom, nearing completion. To Mrs. Hansen she said, “I must have that tapestry to take back to America.”
Munson, Miriam Ott. “An Old Art for the New World.” House Beautiful, July 1929. 

Bergh may have varied her description of Southward’s purchase at times. 

“To Mrs. Bergh, a native Norwegian living in this country, Frida Hansen owes her real introduction to the United States. At an exhibition of artists in New York, Mrs. Bergh heard William Chase say disparagingly, “But Norway has no art.” On her next trip to the land of her birth Mrs. Bergh began the collection of Frida Hansen tapestries…”
“Art of Old Norse Tapestry Shown at Woman’s Exhibition,” St. Louis Star & Times, March 6, 1929.

Frida Hansen. Southward (Sørover, 1903). Photo: Peter Pap.

Southward has some interesting design similarities to Salome’s Dance, woven three years earlier. The spiral snakes on Salome’s skirt resemble the roses on the gowns of half the maidens in Southward. The gown of a woman at the edge of Salome’s Dance has a filmy covering, mimicking the bonnets of the Southward maidens.

Hansen, Frida. Salome’s Dance (Salomes dans, 1900) Details. Photos: Robbie LaFleur

Frida Hansen. In the Rose Garden (I rosenhaven, 1904) Detail. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

In the Rose Garden (I Rosenhaven, 1904) shows eight women wandering in a garden, wandering in nature, a dream of a golden age. It may have been influenced by the work of Gustav Klimt.  Anniken Thue, Frida Hansen’s biographer, felt it has clear parallels to an early Norwegian tapestry from the 1500s or 1600s. Many of Hansen’s tapestries resemble medieval Norwegian tapestries in her use of pattern everywhere—in the background, and in the richly decorated clothing of the figures. 

In 1905 Hansen wove Semper Vadentes. When it was displayed at the Paris Salon the following year, Hansen was awarded membership in the Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts, which meant she no longer had to be juried for inclusion in the annual Paris Salon. Frida Hansen’s weaving was very prolific in the first decade of the 1900s, and she sent a large tapestry to the Paris Salon each year from 1900-1909.

Frida Hansen. Semper Vadentes. Stavanger Kunstmuseum. https://digitaltmuseum.no/021048233601/semper-vadentes-billedvev. See detail photos of the tapestry here.

This brief biography does not discuss all of Frida Hansen’s tapestries, nor include the full scope of her exhibitions. Many of her works that are now in museums have links to digital images. A list at the end of this article includes those I could discover.

Frida Hansen at her upright loom. Photographer unknown. Behind her is her tapestry Jephthah’s Daughter (Jeftas datter, 1912/13). Another American connection–this tapestry was exhibited at the Carnegie Institute in Pittsburgh in 1915.

Frida Hansen’s Last Tapestry

Frida Hansen’s last monumental tapestry had a Norwegian theme, created to celebrate the 900th anniversary of Christianity in Norway. She wove it from 1927 until her death in 1931, and it was completed by her daughter, Elisa Levy, and granddaughter Signe Levy. King Olav kneels in the center, flanked by representatives of the state and church. The Norwegian glacier, Folgefonna, is in the background. In 1934 the citizens of Stavanger, Hansen’s home town,  raised money for the tapestry to be hung in the Cathedral in Stavanger. 

Frida Hansen. The Olav Tapestry (Olavsteppet, 1927-31). Stavanger Cathedral. https://digitaltmuseum.no/021049525944/olavsteppet-billedvev

With this tapestry Frida Hansen came full circle. She began her career by working to reinvigorate traditional Norwegian weaving. She continued to draw on Norwegian themes in her own tapestries, but also followed her heart and ever-curious nature and wove images of exotic Egyptian women and mermaids along with themes from Greek mythology. In all, she wove 30 large tapestries and designed around 80 transparency designs. She was an internationally-recognized Art Nouveau artist, but in the end she spent the last years of her life weaving a noble Norwegian historical image.

For several decades the work of Frida Hansen was not in the Norwegian limelight. The Art Nouveau style of most of her work fell out of fashion by the time of her death. Much of her work was held privately or by museums outside of Norway. It wasn’t until a large exhibition of her work in 1973 that she was discovered anew in her home country. She gained even more attention with the retrospective of her work at the Stavanger Art Museum in 2015. Today the Stavanger Art Museum has an excellent and varied permanent exhibition of her work, and the National Museum (Nasjonalmuseet) has several tapestries and transparencies. 

Read more about Frida Hansen in English: 

Frida Hansen and the Making of Art Nouveau.” FJ Hakiman (blog). January 19, 2018.
Gudmundson, M. Lund. “Frida Hansen – Art Nouveau in Full Bloom.” Textile Forum Blog, 2015.
Hansen. Vibeke Waallann. “Encounters between Art and Folk Art around 1900 in Norway: Gerhard Munthe, Theodor Kittelsen and Frida Hansen.” European Revivals: From Dreams of a Nation to Places of Transnational Exchange. FNG Research 1/2020.
LaFleur, Robbie. “When Frida Hansen Sought a Tapestry Teacher.” Robbie LaFleur (blog). November 16, 2018. This post includes a longer passage translated from Anniken Thue’s biography about Frida Hansen learning to weave.
Simonnæs, Anne Sommeren. “Frida Hansen: A Leading Star in European Textile Art.” Oslo: Nasjonalmuseet. (web page)

List of Frida Hansen tapestries (excluding transparencies), with links to museum records when available. The list corresponds to the list of tapestries in the catalog of works compiled by Anniken Thue in 1973, Frida Hansen: Europeeren i norsk vevkunst. Oeuvrefortegnelse og biografisk innledning. Oslo: Kunstindustrimuseet, 1973.

  1. 1889/90. Birkebeiner Soldiers Smuggling Haakon Haakonson Over the Mountain. (Birkebeinerne fører den unge Haakon Haakenson på ski over fjellet). Owned by the family of Frida Hansen.
  2. 1892. Flying Wild Ducks (Flyvende villender). Missing.
  3. 1893. Mermaids and Swans (Havfruer og svaner). Missing, presumably sold to a buyer in California.
  4. 1893. The Life and Flora of the Forests. (Skovenes liv og flora). Missing?
  5. 1893. National Coat of Arms. (Riksvåpenet). Missing.
  6. 1893. Dandelion (Løvetand). Owned by the Stavanger Art Museum.
  7. 1894. Olaf Liljekrans I. Private ownership.
  8. 1894 Olaf Liljekrans II. Owned by the National Museum of Norway.
  9. 1895. Mermaids who Light the Moon (Havfruer, som tænder månen). Owned by the Stavanger Art Museum.
  10. 1896. Mermaid Dance. (Havfruedans). Private ownership.
  11. 1897. Pentecost Choir (Pintse-Chor). This is a diptych. The left panel is owned by the Museum of Applied Arts in Budapest.
  12. 1897. Pharaoh’s Daughter (Faraos datter). Owned by the National Museum of Norway.
  13. 1898. The Milky Way (Melkeveien). Owned by the Museum für Kunst und Gewerbe, Hamburg.
  14. 1900. The Dance of Salome (Salomes dans). Owned by the Museum für Gestaltung, Zurich.
  15. 1900. The Five Wise and the Five Foolish Virgins (De fem kluge og de fem daarlige jomfruer). Missing.
  16. 1901. Dance of the Dragonflies (Libellenes Dans). Owned by the Nordiska Museet, Stockholm
  17. 1902. Yon Red Evening (Kveld hiin Røde).  Private ownership.
  18. 1903. The Proposal (Frieriet). Only known as a cartoon. Not woven?
  19. 1903. Southward (Sørover).
  20. 1904. The Rose Garden (I Rosenhaven) Owned by Drammens Museum (Norway).
  21. 1905. Semper Vadentes. Owned by the Stavanger Art Museum.
  22. 1907. Fairy Tale Castle (Eventyrslottet). Owned by the National Museum of Norway.
  23. 1908. In the Rose Garden (Im Rosengarten, woven from the same cartoon as I Rosenhaven, 1904). Missing.
  24. 1909. The Swineherd. (Svinedrengen). Displayed and sold in Berlin in 1910, but missing.
  25. 1913. Jephthah’s Daughter (Jeftas Datter). Owned by the National Museum of Norway.
  26. 1914. (Danaidernes kar) Owned by the Stavanger Art Museum.
  27. 1919-1922. An Autumn Day at Akershus (Høstdag ved Akershus). Private ownership.
  28. 1925. The Little Mermaid (Den lille havfrue). It was purchased by the Honolulu Academy of Arts, but is now missing.
  29. 1925. Bird at Sunset (Fugl i solnedgang).
  30. 1926. Fuga. Privately owned, likely in Scotland.
  31. 1927-31. (Olavsteppet) (more photos in this blog post) In the cathedral in Stavanger (although currently in the Stavanger Art Museum while the cathedral undergoes renovations)

Awards and Recognition

  • 1891. Wins the King’s Silver medal for her traditional Norwegian weavings at a national exhibition in Skien, Norway.
  • 1898. Wins a gold medal at the Industrial Exhibition in Bergen.
  • 1900. Paris Worlds Fair. The Norwegian Tapestry Studio (DNB) wins a gold medal for their collection, and Frida Hansen wins a gold medal for her artistic merits.
  • 1901. Won a competition for wallpaper design sponsored by Vallø Tapetfabrik.
  • 1902. Won the gold medal at an exhibition in Turin, Italy, the “Prima esposizione Internationale d’Arte Decorative Moderna.”
  • 1906. Hansen was awarded membership in the French Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts, which meant she no longer had to be juried for inclusion in the annual Paris Salon de la Société Nationale des Beaux-Arts.
  • 1915. Awarded the King’s Gold Medal.
Southward, in all its restored glorywill be exhibited and for sale by Peter Pap at the Winter Show in New York City from April 1-10, 2022, the first public opportunity to see this magnificent tapestry in 91 years.
A few posts from the Winter Show, with further discoveries and visitor reactions: Tonight Frida Hansen’s Rediscovered Tapestry will be Revealed (March 31, 2022), Sørover (Southward) at the Manhattan Winter Show (April 2, 2022), Frida Hansen’s Southward: Musing on the Border and People Who Live Near the Ocean (April 3, 2022), and Frida Hansen’s Southward Tapestry: A Conversation Recap (April 4, 2022).
Robbie LaFleur is a weaver and writer from Minneapolis, Minnesota. She has been following a thread of Scandinavian textiles since she studied weaving at Valdres Husflidskole in Fagernes, Norway, in 1977. She is a Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum Gold Medalist in weaving, coordinates the Weavers Guild of Minnesota Scandinavian Weavers Study Group, and publishes the Norwegian Textile Letter. In 2019 she received a fellowship from the American Scandinavian Foundation to study the transparency technique of famed Norwegian tapestry weaver Frida Hansen. Contact: lafleur1801@me.com. Blog: robbielafleur.com. Instagram: robbie_lafleur

February 2022; updated April 2022