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A Missing Frida Hansen Tapestry Rediscovered

Rediscovered swan. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

By Robbie LaFleur

When well-known rug dealer Peter Pap opened a container and spied a folded tapestry with swans last year, he knew immediately he had struck tapestry gold–but he didn’t know he was solving a nearly 100-year old mystery.

In 1903 famed Norwegian artist Frida Hansen wove red-haired maidens sailing on swans in a tapestry of impressive scale (11’3” x 10’3”). In an image from Norse mythology, the flotilla in Sørover (Southward) was sailing south, having brought the warmth and light of summer to the north. 

The tapestry itself sailed from Norway as soon as it was cut from the loom, as it was purchased by Berthea Aske Bergh of Brooklyn, New York, a weaving instructor and passionate promoter of Norwegian billedvev (tapestry). She had been a student of Frida Hansen. During the next 27 years, Southward was admired by many viewers in exhibitions at museums and other public venues. (See “Southward on Display.”) Though every reference to Southward praised its shining threads and beautiful colors, until today the only photographs documenting the tapestry were black-and-white, and blurry at best. 

Photo from House Beautiful magazine, June 1929.

After 1931, there were no written references to Southward on display. Berthea Aske Bergh lived until 1954, and remained active in the Norwegian-American community. Did she sell the tapestry, perhaps because she needed the money during the Great Depression? That remains a puzzle, but the mystery of the tapestry’s location has been solved! If you are reading this, you are among the first people ever to see a color image of Southward.

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

Peter Pap discovered Southward in 2021. The tapestry was last purchased from a New England family (name unknown) around 2010 by an antique dealer in New Hampshire who was Peter Pap’s friend. It was not displayed. Peter Pap described the dealer as a generalist who had an eye for something special, the sort of dealer to whom inventory of beautiful objects felt like money in the bank. The dealer passed away before selling many of his treasures; Southward was part of his estate. 

To give a sense of scale: Robbie LaFleur and Peter Pap examine Southward in Peter Pap’s New Hampshire Gallery.

We don’t know where the tapestry was for many decades, but it was clearly hung with great care, or kept in environmentally safe storage. It was in excellent physical condition, but nearly 120 years of dust obscured the vibrant colors that Frida Hansen intended. Peter Pap sent the tapestry to Denver, Colorado, to be cleaned by the person he most trusted to care for the tapestry, Robert Mann. Careful washing brought out amazing brightness and contrast within the image. (See “Finding Frida Hansen’s Colors Again: Cleaning Southward.”)

Years of dust flows from the Southward. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

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. This will be the first public opportunity to see this magnificent tapestry in 91 years. The last known year it was displayed publicly was 1931, when it was part of an exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum of Art, The International Exhibition of Modern Tapestry (February 07-February 28, 1931). That fall it was part of an exhibition of antique and modern tapestries at the Montclair (New Jersey) Art Museum (October 11-November 8, 1931).

Here is a photo of the fully restored tapestry after washing. (The difference is amazing.)

Frida Hansen. Sørover (Southward), 1903

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).

February, 2022; updated April 2022

Finally, we can see the red-haired maidens and blue of the waves.

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. Contact: lafleur1801@me.com. Blog: robbielafleur.com. Instagram: robbie_lafleur

 

Finding Frida Hansen’s Colors Again: Cleaning Southward

By Robbie LaFleur

Robert Mann logoIn January 2022, Peter Pap shipped Southward from New Hampshire to Denver, Colorado, for cleaning at Robert Mann Rugs. Robert Mann founded his business specializing in the care of handwoven rugs, Southwestern textiles, and other weavings in 1982. He began his career in the rug business in 1978, as an apprentice to an Iranian rug restorer named Hamid Sharifzadeh. Today his business offers a range of services: cleaning, repairs, restoration, mounting, appraisal, and expert consultation.

I was present for the magical transformation, as was Gavin Shelton, a videographer from South Carolina. Mann described his process and reasoning thoroughly as he worked. He was serious, careful, and self-assured as he proceeded, which must come from his 40+ years of experience in restoring textiles. 

When I first viewed Southward at Peter Pap’s New Hampshire gallery I was astonished at the scale of the tapestry and beauty of the colors, understandable since I had only studied black-and-white photos from nearly a century ago. But when the tapestry slid out of the delivery box in Denver, my impression was different. “Oh my gosh, it’s filthy,” I thought. It was so apparent that removing nearly 120 years of dust would make a huge difference. 

Robert Mann begins his close examination. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

The tapestry was laid out on a large table for evaluation, vacuuming, and preparation for washing. Overall it was in excellent condition: no moth holes, no tears, no stains. There was a small darned patch in an upper corner. Mann noted, “That’s so common; it probably repaired a hole from a nail. I’ll bet there’s one on the other corner.” He was right.

The lighter blue darned area probably repairs a hole from a nail. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

“You can tell it was never used on the floor,’ Mann said. I must have looked shocked at the thought, as he added, “That happens.” The surface of the tapestry showed no sign of wear, no shininess from foot traffic. 

A burlap heading band was sewn to the top edge. You could see from dark lines running vertically across the header that metal clips of some sort had been sewn to the burlap. Removal of the band revealed a surprise—a hidden part of the tapestry! The solid-colored band at the top edge of the tapestry had been turned over 1¾”. 

Near the top you can see the dust line that shows where the tapestry was folded over. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

 

On Southward’s back side, below the area where the burlap band was applied, the color was somewhat faded. Robert Mann said that one explanation might be that the tapestry was hung in front of a window. That reminded me of a description of the tapestry when it hung in Berthea Aske Bergh’s home. 

Some of the tapestries now in Mrs. Bergh’s possession are the work of Frida Hansen among them the magnificent “Southward” which was recently exhibited at the National Museum in Washington. D.C. It is among Mrs. Hansen’s greatest work and is hung between two rooms at Mrs. Bergh’s home, with an arrangement of lights that permits the luminous quality of the tapestry—a very rare attribute—to be seen.
Calls Tapestry a Panacea for Overwrought Feminine Nerves: Pupil of Frida Hansen Teaches American Women to Forget Problems While Weaving Pictures.” The Brooklyn Daily Eagle, Wednesday, May 30, 1928.

Perhaps the back was facing a room with windows. Or maybe the fading happened later in the life of the tapestry. 

Underneath the burlap band was a narrow cotton twill tape, which was likely original. Robert mused that the narrow tape, and the presence of one remaining ring sewn into the tape, might indicate that the tapestry was originally hung by rings with the fringes hanging over the front of the tapestry. Here’s a guess: when the burlap edge was added, was one ring left intact, and the tag added? The tag gives dimensions in feet and inches, not in centimeters, so perhaps it was added in the U.S. 

This shows the cotton twill tape that had been hidden by the burlap band. If you look carefully, you can see slight fading in the greenish area, just below the name; the slightly darker green area behind the name had been covered by the burlap band. A single ring, with tag attached, extends upward into the warp ends.

A few bundles of warp threads were knotted loosely underneath the burlap heading band. When those knots were untied, you could see the bright original white of the warp threads, and realize how much the exposed warp threads had oxidized and become discolored. They were in otherwise good condition, not dried and broken. Both the bottom and top edges were stabilized by basting on a pocket of nylon mesh. (I got to help!)

Robert Mann conducted several blotting tests with water, mild detergent, and solvent before the tapestry was washed. As expected, the blotting revealed lots of dirt. The only sections he thought might be unstable were the very dark outlining of the swans’ beaks, and some dark outlining in the borders. Blotting one of these areas using a solvent released a bit of dye. He guessed that the intensely deep aquamarine yarn was dyed with indigo with a modifier. He was unconcerned; the mild detergent he would use in washing aren’t nearly as strong as the solvent. Indeed, no colors bled during washing.

Robert Mann ensured that all dyes were colorfast with blotting tests. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

In old newspaper accounts the metallic threads in the costumes and veils of the maidens were invariably described as silver. Those areas have oxidized to a beautiful grayish-bronze. Mann  guessed, correctly, that those areas might brighten a bit after washing, as they held dust like the rest of the tapestry. 

This detail shows one maiden’s dress, after the first washing and while still damp. The metallic areas (the grayish-bronze designs in the dress) seemed a bit brighter, but not appreciably different in color. 

Copious dirt flowed from the water during the first washing, so much so that Robert expected the cleaning to be complete.

Dirty water flowing away from the tapestry. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

The following morning, when the tapestry was completely dry, he determined that another washing was warranted. “See that grayish cast over the whole tapestry?” he pointed out. It indicated that the wool fibers were still clinging to soil. 

After the first washing. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

The second–and third–washings were transformational. I envision Frida Hansen as a time-traveler, pleased at the rediscovery of her tapestry, alarmed at its dusty state, and then elated over the restoration to clear and compelling colors.

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 90 years. Here is a photo of the fully restored, washed tapestry.

Frida Hansen. Sørover (Southward), 1901

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).

February 2022; updated April 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. Contact: lafleur1801@me.com. Blog: robbielafleur.com. Instagram: robbie_lafleur

 

Art Weaving in Valdres–Part Three (Tapestry Cushion Covers)

By Karin Mellbye Gjesdahl 

The following is part three of an article by Karin Melbye Gjesdahl, “Weaving in Valdres” [“Vevkunst I Valdres”] published in Valdres Bygdebok, Vol. 5, 1964, pp. 37-59. (A bygdebok is a compilation of local history.) Translated by Lisa Torvik, 2021. (Part one. Part two.)

In addition to the story of the three holy kings, no other motif has been as popular in our tapestry weaving as the depiction of the five wise and five foolish virgins, though it is otherwise little used in our [Norwegian] art.  It appears to be similarly popular in the Swedish painted “bonader” of the 1700s and 1800s. 

The motif is repeated from tapestry to tapestry, and is also transferred to pillow covers. Here are as many virgins as there was room for them. The figures are portrayed quite naturally on the oldest tapestries, the wise virgins with their lamps lighted all in a row above with the heavenly bridegroom, and in the row below the foolish ones, crying with handkerchiefs over their eyes beside the oil merchant behind his counter. This is how they are also portrayed on the tapestry at Valdres Folkemuseum (fig. 9), which belonged to Ola K. Alfstad’s collection in Skammestein [Øystre Slidre]. 

Figure 9. Wise and Foolish Virgins. Valdres Folkemuseum. https://digitaltmuseum.no/021028404629/teppe

Here there is truly an attempt at individualizing the different figures.  Trees are placed between the virgins, and in the background we see suggestions of architectural motifs.  “EROSKIØBE” is woven into the merchant’s counter (fig. 10).* A strong geometric border in gold and red runs around the tapestry, likely the same as on the three holy kings tapestry in the Nordiska Museum [Stockholm].  The main impression of the tapestry here is also light, reddish and gold tones, but it is probably somewhat faded.

The oil merchant, a detail from a Wise and Foolish Virgins tapestry. Valdres Folk Museum. https://digitaltmuseum.no/021028404629/teppe

All the same figures are present on the pillow cover from Røn [Vestre Slidre] (fig. 11 and 12), now in the Norwegian Folk Museum (481-97) [Bygdøy, Oslo.]  There is a clear attempt here also at creating distinctive features, but they are nevertheless more rigid than on the tapestry.  Between the two rows of figures is the inscription:  “Five were wise five were foolish: Anno” and, probably, “16”.  There was unfortunately no room for the rest of the year.  Next to the last virgin are three letters woven in, which possibly can be read as “I T R” or “R T I”,  perhaps the weaver’s signature.  If this is the case, it is the only time I have found any signature on tapestry weavings from Valdres.  Neither do we find any more pillow covers where all 10 virgins are included as they are here.  The main colors are gold, red and blue with a little weft in green, natural [sheep] black and white.  Might we perhaps be allowed to believe we have here an independent Valdres creation?  On the other hand, it is difficult to say with certainty that this is also the case with the virgin-tapestry at Valdres Folk Museum.

Fig. 11. Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Røn, Vestre Slidre (70 x 62 cm.). Norwegian Folk Museum (481-97) https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023124359/putetrekk

It is in any case doubtful that the tapestry from Vang [in Valdres] with the same motif, now at the Norwegian Folk Museum (O. 1793-15) is woven in Valdres (fig. 13).  It is very similar to several of the Gudbrandsdal [tapestries].  Here we have, for that matter, a good illustration of how a motif becomes more rigid over time when it is repeated from tapestry to tapestry.  All individualization of the virgins has disappeared.  They stand in two identical rows one above the other, all with a face and a crown on their heads.

Figure 13. Wise and Foolish Virgins. Norwegian Folk Museum. https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023142954/teppe

Most of the background is filled out with a zig-zag two dimensional pattern.  The border is the usual meandering rose vine.  Gray-gold tones and red colors are especially prominent, but there is also a great deal of blue.

As for the dating of this group, some of the Gudbrandsdal virgin-tapestries certainly have years woven in, but these are often so distorted that they are unreliable.  [Art historian Thor] Kielland dates the first of our [tapestries] to the last half of the 1600s and the pillow cover to the end of the 1600s.  The latter [tapestry] with its advanced stylization could probably have at the earliest been woven after 1700.

The virgin motif is also present in a number of other pillow covers, where the number of virgins is limited to two or three.  Kielland mentions that while Gudbrandsdal can present a very large number of tapestries with the virgin motif, it appears that pillow covers with this pattern are more common in its neighboring communities.  In Valdres we have nine pillow covers with this motif.  One group of them sets itself apart with years and initials woven in, which we will return to later, while five others display the motif even more simplified and schematically than on the last tapestry (fig. 14). 

Figure 14. Three Virgins. Valdres Folkemuseum. https://digitaltmuseum.no/021028597693/putetrekk

The figures are reproduced entirely uniformly with large crowns on their heads, the space between them filled with eight-petaled roses, and their skirts depicted almost as decorative borders.  We see here that the design has adapted itself to the demands of the technique.  And I believe that part of the explanation of the popularity of this motif is that in its severely simplified form, with the repetition of the same figure, it is relatively easy to reproduce. If we consider the pattern while keeping in mind that the figures were woven on their side [lying horizontally in the weaving], we see that the prominent vertical and diagonal lines are actually easy to weave.  Whereas these pillow covers are only encircled by a narrow geometric or solid color border, we have one with the same meandering rose vine as its border like we find on a large number of the tapestries (fig. 15). 

Figure 15. Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Vang [in Valdres]  (59 x 58 cm.) Norwegian Folk Museum (E. 811-06). (no online image found)

There is only room for two virgins here.  It is from Vang, while three of the others are attributed to Vestre Slidre.  The one from Vang must have been created by an experienced weaver because it is so meticulously and finely woven.

While most of the works in tapestry we have discussed so far appear to either be directly imported from Gudbrandsdal or copied from examples from there, Valdres has also been under influences from Western Norway.  Indeed, Valdres has always been a valley with a great deal of traffic passing through it.  From ancient times, it was the shortest route from Eastern to Western Norway, and Valdres natives themselves traveled down to Western Norway to obtain salt, herring and other fish.

In regard to textiles, Western Norway is especially known for its geometrically patterned weaving, called “rutevev” and tapestries used as bed coverlets, called “åkle”, plural “åklær”.  However, there are also a smaller number of tapestry weavings preserved which clearly distinguish themselves from the Eastern material.  Characteristic of these weavings is a sort of diffuse style, where figures and ornamental motifs filter into each other and the decorative details dominate.  Figures play a lesser role.

Here too the virgin motif is repeated, but the number of virgins is greatly reduced.  On the tapestry in the Nordiska Museum [Stockholm], which was purchased in 1878 by Ragnhild Knutsdatter Røe of Øystre Slidre (fig. 16), there are just two virgins placed in the middle of a large tapestry, while the entire surface is otherwise divided up by diagonal rows of squares, filled with stylized leaves, flowers and a pattern of four stylized opposing hearts, as well as a few squares with a deer and a bird.

The two lengthwise edges are finished with a simple zig-zag border, a characteristic detail repeated in very many of the Western Norwegian works.  The colors are also kept to the same range as found on most of those from Western Norway, where gold, brown and red shades dominate against a natural [sheep] black background.  The tapestry is in horizontal format, which is common for these tapestries.  All things considered we probably see here an imported work from Western Norway.

Fig. 16.  Section of tapestry from Ø. Slidre (143 x 183 cm.) https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023239036/teppe

Many of the same characteristic details in this tapestry, we find again on a pillow cover with three virgins (fig. 17) now at the Norwegian Folk Museum (766-96), and a cushion at the Museum of Decorative Arts and Design [Kunstindustrimuseet, now incorporated into the new National Museum, Oslo] in Oslo (fig. 18) where the virgins have been turned into a bridal couple (7889). 

Fig. 17.  Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Valdres (54 x 50 cm.)  Norwegian Folk Museum (766-96). (No digital image found)

Fig. 18. Cushion in tapestry weaving from Valdres (119 x 51 cm.)  Museum of Decorative Arts and Design, Oslo (7889). (No digital image found)

The weaver was perhaps no longer clear about the design’s connection to the wise and foolish virgins.  Otherwise we again find the same flowers, leaves, birds and zig-zag border as on the tapestry, but not the characteristic colors of Western Norway.   The pillow cover is essentially limited to gold-brown colors with some blue against a natural black background, and on the cushion the ornamentation is blue, red, gold, gray again the same ground color.  Perhaps these two pieces can have been created in Valdres from a model from Western Norway?

Together with these, a pillow cover at the County Museum in Skien [now called Telemark Museum] (2530) must be mentioned, where four deer are placed together with similar ornamentation as on the large tapestry, and where the zig-zag border is again used (fig. 19).  The colors are gold, red, gray-white and blue. 

Fig. 19.  Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Valdres (56 x 65 sm.)  Telemark Museum in Skien (2530). (No digital image found)

The same design is likely the basis for a pillow cover from Vestre Slidre [ Valdres] (NF 1227-97), but the pattern here is entirely degenerated, and it appears disordered and broken up (fig. 20).

Fig. 20. Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from V. Slidre (71 x 60 cm.) Norwegian Folk Museum (1227-97). https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023125158/putetrekk

Perhaps here a group of pillow covers from Gudbrandsdal have had influence on the pattern design, with deer and rosettes in rectangular fields. One such, very similar to those from Gudbrandsdal, is now in the possession of district physician Kjos in Oslo, and has also come from Valdres.

While it must be said that it is fairly uncertain if any of these works were woven in Valdres, we do have another group of three very unique pillow covers which must, with very high probability, have been created in Valdres.  (fig. 21, 22 and 23.)  All depict two virgins surrounded by a broad border of stair-stepped triangles, and in a field above the figures, two [pillows] have the inscription: “HLS ANO 1698”, and on the third: “SHD ANO 1705”.  They are woven in relatively dark shades of color, mostly in blue and red against a natural black ground.  The inscription is in blue on a red background and the border in red, blue, gold and white. – The pillow covers clearly show connection with the group from Western Norway.  The same small deer and stylized flowers are repeated, while the relatively large figures and the wide border connect them to work from Eastern Norway.  An interesting detail about these pillow covers is that they are also dated.  And, here, we should almost believe that the years are correct.  There is such a great similarity between them that it is very likely they must have been woven by the same weaver, and that they are separated by a few years seems quite reliable. 

Fig. 21.  Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Valdres.  Inscribed: “HLS ANO 1698” (63 x 54 cm.)  Valdres Folkemuseum (1847). https://digitaltmuseum.no/021028599744/putetrekk

Fig. 22:  Pillow cover in tapestry weaving.  Origin unknown.  Inscribed: “HLS ANO 1698.” (66 x 62 cm.)  Norwegian Folk Museum. (E 1599-06). https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023131215/putetrekk

Fig. 23.  Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Bagn [Valdres].  Inscription: “SHD ANO 1705”. (64 x 64 cm.)  Nordiska Museum [Stockholm] (21.596). Photo Nord. Mus. https://digitaltmuseum.se/011023342344/stolsdyna

 But how do we explain that the two have the same initials and year?  Were they originally a pair?  Now and then estate settlements mention pairs of pillows.  But even without seeing them next to one another, I nevertheless dare say that the one shows a significantly darker shade of color than the other and they are not entirely identical in the smallest detail.  The initials “H.L.S.” must certainly stand for a man’s name, where “S” means son.  Unfortunately there is no information about where these two are from.  One is at Valdres Folkemuseum (1847), and the other at the Norwegian Folk Museum (E. 1599-06) and without any place of origin.  On the other hand, the third one from 1705 was purchased by Nordiska Museum [Stockholm] (21, 596) in 1878 from Aaste Olsdatter Tronhus in Bagn [South Aurdal, Valdres], and it is one of the few works determined to originate in the lower districts of Valdres.  In addition we may hope that genealogical research can one day succeed in identifying these initials.

While we have until now limited ourselves to works with figurative motifs, we also have a number of pillow and cushion covers with purely ornamental patterns, a somewhat motley and diverse collection, so that it would lead us too far afield to discuss each one.

Quite peculiar [to this group] is a pillow cover where a strange mythical animal covers the central section (fig. 24). 

Fig. 24. Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Vang [Valdres] (63 x 56 cm.)  Nordiska Museum [Stockholm] (23.743). https://digitaltmuseum.se/011023348983/stolsdyna

A German researcher has demonstrated that this motif dates back to a Persian textile design from the 1300 or 1400s with its depiction of a dragon in battle with a phoenix bird, the coat of arms of the Chinese Ming emperors.  (Thor B. Kielland: Norwegian Tapestry 1550-1800 Vol. II, pg. 14.)  That illustrates an example of the migration of textile motifs.  A border of strongly stylized vines with grapes surrounds the center space.  The pillow cover is kept to a fairly controlled range of colors with mainly brown and gold tones and some blue.  The color palette and vine border connects it essentially to the more urban type of Renaissance tapestries.  But whether it was woven before or after 1700 is difficult to determine.  We know of  three pillow covers with the same motif.  Only one of these is of known origin.  It comes from Orkdal [South Trøndelag], while ours was purchased in 1879 by the Nordiska Museum [Stockholm] from Iver Sivertsen Hemsing of Vang [in Valdres].  It is therefore not easy to say if this motif originated in South Trøndelag or Valdres.

More common is the pattern that Kielland calls the crown-ringed Gothic shield.  There are 22 known examples of which the majority belong to South Trøndelag.  In Valdres we have three of this type.  Kielland has been able to identify the same motif on a pillow cover from the 1400s, probably a west German work.  (Thor B. Kielland: Norwegian Tapestry 1550-1800, Vol. II, pg. 38.)  Of the three in Valdres, the ones which belongs to Andr. O. Moe of Røn and John Leirhol of Vang have retained the original shield-shaped area with a tree in the middle and an animal on either side with the sides of the shield  surrounded by pointed crowns.  On the other hand the shield-shaped area has become entirely square on the one now at Valdres Folk Museum (700), (fig. 25) and the design on the whole is more rigid and degraded. But in its simple vine border this one has retained some of the spindly leaf stalks which we find on the German model.  In contrast, the pillow cover from Røn is surrounded by the usual bent rose vine. This pillow cover, it is noted, has always been on the farm, but that in itself is not evidence that it was woven in Valdres.  All three pillow covers are degraded [in design] to the degree that they can only have been woven after 1700.

Fig. 25.  Pillow cover in tapestry weaving. (53 x 60 cm.)  Valdres Folk Museum.  (700). https://digitaltmuseum.no/021025595782/putetrekk

Another much favored motif is the slim, stylized tree with fruit surrounded by four sections of vine and the spaces between filled out with four lilies opposite one another.  Over 80 works with this tree of life motif are registered here [in Norway], mostly pillow covers, but also whole tapestries and [bench] cushions.

We know of five such pillow and cushion covers from Valdres (fig. 26). 

Fig. 26.  Pillow cover in tapestry weaving Hedalen [Valdres] (62 x 57 cm.)  Owner Martha Lohne, Hedalen

The tree is a very old motif in art and certainly has had a symbolic meaning originally.  But it is hardly the design’s symbolism which has made it so favored in tapestry weaving.  I rather think that its simple, almost geometric form makes it relatively easy to recreate, and that this is one of the reasons for its great popularity.  It is also a design that if desired can be repeated indefinitely in length and width. The pattern can perhaps seem a bit stale, but the way the slender motif stands out on these Valdres pillow covers in light blue, red and gold against the natural [sheep] black background creates a very good decorative effect.  The cushion which is owned by Anna Ødegård of Skammestein [Øystre Slidre] must have originally been of a considerable length.  Altogether, the remaining fragments of the textile total over 2.5 meters.  The pillow cover from Hedalen which is owned by Martha Lohne is largely well preserved and finely woven.  It is notable that a simple zig-zag border is also found on this pillow cover, and is repeated on several of the Valdres works.

Because 40 of these works have been traced to Gudbrandsdal, it is likely that they originated there, but that does not prevent the design from being adopted from other places.  A few of these works are dated, some to the 1670-1680s and one to 1718, so this give us a certain point of reference to date the entire group.  But we must also count on the fact that such a motif has retained its popularity for a long time.  Of the five Valdres works, one is from Vang, two from Øystre Slidre and one from Hedalen.

Another pillow cover from Vang is in the popular skybragd pattern (NF 483-97).  In Gudbrandsdal, we find this pattern in a number of examples of both tapestries and pillow covers.  It is essentially the ancient, classic palmetto plant design which is the basis for the motif, but which first appears in our tapestry weaving after 1700.  It is often presented in bright colors, arranged in diagonal rows, on this example in two shades each of red and blue together with some gold and brown.  Since we know of just the one example from Valdres, while there are approximately 30 works originating in Gudbrandsdal, we should probably consider this one is an import.

Pillow in skybragd pattern from Vang in Valdres. This photo was not in the original essay. https://digitaltmuseum.no/011023124361/pute

Also probably imported is a cushion from Valdres, now in Bergen’s Museum (X. 103.10).  It depicts parrots surrounded by flowers and grape clusters (fig. 27).  A group of cushions from the end of the 1600s with similar motifs are localized to an urban influenced environment in Western Norway, but we find it at the same time in other regions of the country, and also in tapestry weaving from Skåne [Sweden], so it is not easy to say exactly where our [examples] come from.

Fig. 27.  Cushion cover in tapestry weaving from Valdres (57 x 125 vm.) Bergen’s Museum (X 103.10). (No digital image found.)

We see portions of the same flowers on a pillow cover which the Nordiska Museum [Stockholm] (21.462) purchased in 1878 from Nils Nilsen Jørstad of Øystre Slidre.  Here tulips, carnations and roses in yellow, gold-red, blue and green colors are strewn over a natural black ground (fig. 28), like what we also see on embroideries from the end of the 1600s.  This is the only one of this type which is preserved from Valdres, while Gudbrandsdal can show a number of variations on this theme, some with scattered flowers and some with bouquets of flowers.

Fig. 28.  Pillow cover in tapestry weaving from Øystre Slidre [Valdres] (65 x 63 cm.) Nordiska Museum [Stockholm] (21.462) Photo: Nordiska Museum. https://digitaltmuseum.se/011023341928/sladdyna

Part Four will appear in the February 2022 issue.

The first two parts of the “Art Weaving in Valdres” essay were published in August 2021. See: “Art Weaving in Valdres: Part One of Four“, and “Art Weaving in Valdres: Part Two of Four“. 

*Editor’s note: What does EROSKIØBE mean? The answer came from Annemor Sundbø. Broken down, the words mean love-purchase. The virgins, to prepare for their heavenly wedding to Christ, need to buy oil so their lamps can be lit. The oil merchant is in a symbolic way “selling love” to Christ’s brides. As the story unfolds, the wise virgins carefully save their oil, while the foolish virgins use up their oil and end up crying into their handkerchiefs. 

 

Norwegian Tapestry in the Post-War Years

Editor’s note: Annemor Sundbø wrote a book about spelsau sheep–and so much more–in 2015, Reflections on the Ancient Nordic Sheep: Mythology & Magic, Folk Beliefs & Traditions [Spelsau og Samspill, Glansfull ull og lodne skjebnetråder: Myter og Refleksjoner]. This is a translation of Chapter 31, “Post-War Decor.” Read Chapter 30 in the previous issue of this newsletter: “Norwegian Tapestry: Historical Weaving Treasures and National Romantic Impulses.”

Honoring Norway with monumental tapestries

In the years immediately following the war, the nation of Norway was to be rebuilt and new modern public buildings erected.  Works of art were to be included, underscoring the nation’s pride by promoting the essence of Norway.  In that context, yarn from the old Nordic spelsau sheep came into its own through modern pictorial art.

At the same time, Oslo was to celebrate its 900-year anniversary. In 1946 an art competition was announced by the Society for the Welfare of Oslo, with the subject matter to be the city’s history.  The competition was open to tapestry and a total of 25 entries were submitted.  All designs were to be accompanied by a weaving sample, which drew artists’ attention to what the materials might have to offer and tempted many painters to create designs for tapestry.

For the most part it was men who submitted designs for the Oslo City Hall, the Norwegian Parliament, Akershus Fortress, the Royal Palace and a number of other institutions.  Artists such as Bjarne Rise, Håkon Stenstadvold and Kåre Jonsborg had large tapestries made under the direction of Else Halling.

Magnificent tapestry for Oslo’s City Hall

Kåre Mikkelsen Jonsborg’s design, Batalje på Lilletorget [Confrontation at the Town Square] won the competition. A journalist for Aftenposten, writing under the pseudonym “Bolo,” wrote that the image went through a lengthy development process before it became a tapestry cartoon: For this is what has determined such an impressive result, that the painter has immersed himself so respectfully and thoroughly into the requirements of the textile technique that all his intentions could be fully expressed in the tapestry’s own natural language.

 “Batalje på Lilletorget” by Kåre M. Jonsborg.  The tapestry was sensational in its time due to its size, 7.5 x 3.6 meters.  The expression was modern, but it was executed in an “old Norwegian” tapestry tradition that was to represent an unbroken line from Viking women’s victorious weavings to the rebuilding of the nation of Norway after years of occupation and war  .Photo: Frode Inge Helland. Tapestry in Oslo City Hall. Reconstruction of faded colors. May not be exacltly like the original, but gives an impression of its original appearance.

Tapestry makes headlines

The Oslo textile will create a new era in Norwegian tapestry. The monumental work makes thoughts of a central studio for tapestry a certainty, wrote “Bolo” with excitement.

It took two and a half years for Else Halling and her assistants, Sunniva Lønning, Synnøve Thorne and Randi Nordbraathen (Bierman), to complete the tapestry.  Else Halling commented in a newspaper interview that she and Sunniva could not praise Kåre Jonsborg enough, for… “he can both think, compose and draw tapestry.”

The newspaper Verden’s Gang (10/30/1948) had the following caption: “Else Halling at the loom.  Sunniva Lønning in charge of materials and dyes. Kåre Mikkelsen, cartoon.  Only yarn from the guardhair of spelsau sheep has been used, a material that is especially suitable for our tapestries.  7.5 x 3.60 [meters] high.  Randi Nordbraaten and Synnøve Thorne assist in The Norwegian Handcraft Association’s tapestry studio.”

Monumental work with woven design

Kåre Jonsborg really immersed himself in the tapestry technique.  He built a loom himself and studied the tools and processes in detail. This was noted by newspaper journalist “J.,” who commented in the year before the opening of City Hall: It would have been nice to see the powerful painter Kåre Mikkelsen Jonsborg sitting and puttering with fine wool threads in a homemade loom.That is in fact what he did before he undertook the competition to design the huge tapestry that the Society for the Welfare of Oslo has ordered, with the Kraft-Bull endowment, for hanging in the Revold hall at Oslo City Hall.”

The design was prepared with color fields that were to be woven with handspun yarn. The yarn was dyed with plant materials to correspond with the color tones in the design. Thus the painter, spinner, dyer and the weavers formed a unit, and the tapestry was a joint work. The starting point for this tapestry was modern, painterly principles from the fresco technique, which was created to decorate walls in large buildings. The loom was made so that the entire tapestry could be seen from beginning to end. In this way, Jonsborg could observe the entire weaving while it was being woven.

In the opinion of the press, the Oslo tapestry would usher in a new era in Norwegian applied art, as significant as the flourishing of decorative wall painting.  “Bolo” encouraged investment in a central studio for tapestry weaving, which director Thor B. Kielland at the Norwegian Museum of Arts and Crafts [Kunstindustrimuseet] was planning.  

“We can do this!” declared Kielland.

The Else Halling Era of large-scale tapestries

Oslo’s new City Hall was opened in 1950.  In the festive gallery, Batalje på Lilletorget was unveiled, and up to that time it was the largest tapestry in Norway’s history.  The tapestry drew attention far beyond the country’s borders.  One of the capital’s newspapers wrote that the public and critics were dumbfounded with admiration.”

Unveiling a dream

The tapestry was decisive in realizing Thor B. Kielland’s big dream, the establishment of Norsk Billedvev AS [Norwegian Tapestry LLC].  He entered into a partnership with The Norwegian Handcraft Association and the Norwegian Museum of Arts and Crafts in Oslo, with Else Halling serving as professional director from 1951.  Norsk Billedvev’s projects were mostly focused on themes drawn from Norwegian history, but the studio also produced copies of historic tapestries from the collection of the Norwegian Museum of Arts and Crafts.

Female artists and the St. Hallvard tapestry

Even though Kåre Jonsborg’s tapestry received the largest space and the most attention, he was not the first to unveil a monumental tapestry.

The beautiful “St. Hallvard” tapestry, which was to be hung behind the Mayor’s seat in the City Council’s hall in Oslo, was delivered in the middle of March, 1948.  Else Poulsson both composed and drew the design for this tapestry.  Even though she received great praise for her work, she did not receive the same attention that Kåre Jonsborg did, despite her tapestry being first.

Else Poulsson. St. Hallvard. 1946. Photo by Ingvild Brekke Myklebust (detail). From the website of the Oslo Regional Art Collection.

In the newspaper Morgenbladet, journalist “Candida” noted that the tapestry would serve to tell future generations how the artists of our time solved the challenges of a great task: The weaving is, of course, completely perfect in execution, despite the large format and the many details, which surely required great attention both in terms of color choice and technique.” (Morgenbladet 03/14/1948)

Else Poulsson. St. Hallvard. 1946. Photo by Ingvild Brekke Myklebust (detail). From the website of the Oslo Regional Art Collection.

It took two years for Else Halling and four assistants to weave Else Poulsson’s tapestry.  The size of the tapestry was 3.33 x 5.30 meters (10.9 x 17.4 feet) and it weighed 14 kilograms (30.9 pounds). Randi (Nordbraathen) Bierman spun most of the weft yarn from spelsau guardhair, which perhaps amounted to 10 kilograms (22 pounds).  It required half a year for Sunniva Lønning to gather enough guardhair for spinning and plant material for dying.

Newspapers pay tribute to the return of guardhair

With this tapestry, Miss Halling and Miss Lønning, both teachers at the National Women’s Art and Design School [Statens kvinnelige Industriskole], have continued with the major restoration work in Norwegian tapestry weaving that they began during the war, returning to the silk-fine, long-haired, hard-spun spelsau yarn and the lightfast natural dye colors that characterize the famous Norwegian Renaissance tapestries.

They note that in the guardhair of our Norwegian spelsau wool we have finally found a material that is good enough for artistic rendering. It is a decorative material that places great demands on composition and execution. In fact, it reveals all shortcomings and doesn’t cast a disguising veil over poor composition or inadequate craftsmanship, in contrast to ordinary wool yarn, whose fibers can gloss over deficiencies.

Now that we have found the right material for Norwegian tapestry going forward, it becomes a question of whether we will find able designers within the populace, whether we have tapestry weavers with the skill and experience to raise the work to an artistic handicraft. Tapestry should not be just a hobby, it requires the weaver’s full commitment, say the two pioneering women who will soon set to work on another piece for Oslo City Hall.

Randi Nordbraaten and Synnøve Thorne are Elsa Halling’s talented co-workers and earlier students. Sunniva Lønning handles the natural dying. She has worked with spelsau wool for years, she knows its worth and possibilities, and we see her confident and discerning sense in each skein of yarn and every color. Had the tapestry been woven in regular wool yarn, the colors would have been smothered. Instead we see a textile of clear color fields, full of beauty. Here we have a work that will shine.

Rolf Jensen, “R-IST.”  Verden’s Gang 9/20/1949

Randi Nordbraathen Bierman spun almost all of the 10 kilograms of guardhair yarn that went into the St. Hallvard tapestry for the City Council hall in Oslo.  She was one of the weavers who participated in creating the tapestry.

Excited press

In 1967 the Norwegian Museum of Arts and Crafts held a large exhibition of old tapestries from the 17th and 18th centuries, together with replicas.  The old and the new tapestries hung side by side.  The exhibition created a great deal of excitement, and favorable reviews appeared in the newspapers.  Arne Durban wrote in MorgenbladetOf greatest importance now is that the Norwegian cultural sphere recognizes what priceless value [the studio] Norsk Billedvev can provide. It’s hard to imagine something more outstanding and representative than this large tapestry, representing as it does the use of art in the very best way. As such it contributes to a representative interior, providing a public building with the right character.

Else Poulsson answered in Dagbladet with an appeal to individuals and to the authorities to take note of the uniqueness created from spelsau: Else Halling has never strayed a hair’s breadth from the path she has thought was the right way to go, never yielded an inch on the need to maintain quality. I would recommend that anyone with an interest in high quality and art see the exhibition, not least the granting authorities who can give the Norsk Billedvev Studio, together with our artists, many new tasks for the benefit of us all.” [Excerpted from Norsk Billedvev: Et Atelier og en Epoke (Norwegian Tapestry: A Studio and an Epoch). Øystein Parmann. Oslo: Kunstindustrimuseum, 1982].

Artist + Craftsman = Sacred Work

Else Halling devoted her life to the weaving of genuine Norwegian tapestry utilizing guardhair yarn from the old Norwegian sheep.  Her attitude towards the work was that one person should create the cartoon and another person should weave it with insight and skill.  She felt that while she could not teach someone to be an artist, she could teach them the technical skills of weaving.  If the technique was not first rate, then the tapestry could not be considered fully realized.  She emphasized the importance of a technically competent weaver being involved in all the processes and maintained that the weaver had to be able to do all steps, from drawing the cartoons to sorting the wool and spinning and dyeing the yarn. Yet a distinction between the artist and the experienced handicraft worker must remain. She stated: It is handcraft that makes it possible to execute an artist’s design. It is a handcrafter’s art as well as an artist’s handcraft.”

Meeting with Else Halling

I met Else Halling when I was a spinning student of Sunniva Lønning and studying to become a weaving teacher.  She was 75 years old, I was an eager spelsau enthusiast, and was perhaps all of 24 years old. Helen Engelstad was my official director and also a very generous teacher of textile history. In that context I was invited to her home to meet Else Halling.

A tuft of wool in hand

At that time I was working with a textbook about spinning spelsau yarn with a drop spindle because I had a firm belief that a tuft of spelsau wool was as appropriate in a handbag as a powder puff–and that a drop spindle was as natural to have in hand as a key or a corkscrew.  In that way, every spare moment could be filled with something useful, which in my world was to spin spelsau yarn. I had rediscovered the drop spindle and seen how simple it was to make yarn when one needed it. If a hole appeared in a sock, then – zip – out comes a tuft of wool, the spindle is given a few turns, and the hole in the sock is darned in a jiffy with super strong new yarn!

But alas – I had no idea that the art of darning would gradually be forgotten in the culture of abundance that was about to engulf us. Instead my fate was to recycle thousands of other people’s ragged socks into mattress stuffing, the result of a use-and-discard culture. My drop spindle was therefore left lying on a shelf for several years instead of being in my handbag.

Naturally dyed spelsau wool.

A small woman with immense power

Else Halling was a living legend, small in stature but high in ideals. I remember her from that evening as remarkably witty and plainspoken. She was like an earth mother and a goddess of wisdom all in one person. She ladled out stories from the weaving studio, about the hierarchy in the “hen house,” about the weavers and the lofty gentlemen. Unfortunately I don’t remember any particular story, but I will never forget the power and humor that radiated from Else Halling.

I am even more impressed today over how she and her other spinners managed to produce the quantities of guard-hair yarn that was needed towards the end of the war and in the time of sparse resources after the war, thus creating national monuments in the shape of tapestries in spelsau wool.

Else Halling was a small woman with immense power. Here she is spinning in her studio while two weavers work on a large tapestry.

Else Halling’s work notes

Every square meter of tapestry required one to two kilograms of yarn.  An experienced spinner could perhaps produce 250 grams in a day.  Else Halling kept a journal that recorded progress in her wool work.  Following are some excerpts from the war years that bring forth her own voice [Excerpted from Norsk Billedvev: Et Atelier og en Epoke (Norwegian Tapestry: A Studio and an Epoch). Øystein Parmann. Oslo: Kunstindustrimuseum, 1982].

In the summer of 1944 the wool for “The Feast of Herod” was ordered from Ravndalen, Rogaland, which likely has the largest spelsau sheep farm in Norway.We didn’t get the wool until August, but since I wanted to have a good deal of yarn spun over the summer in order to have some to start with, I was able to borrow some wool from the [National Women’s Art and Design] School, both black and white spelsau, and two of our students there promised to spin as much as they could.I also spun a little.There are very few who can spin spelsau wool, so the question of yarn was my biggest concern when I came to Oslo in August to take up this work.For dyeing I had secured Sunniva Lønning’s help, and as a result I knew that this could not be in better hands.Without her agreement to do the test dyeing, I wouldn’t have dared undertake this task.

An air raid alarm provided me with a spinner: Mrs. Indergard from Møre, who lives in the upper floor of the building, took shelter in my entryway, became interested and promised to help with the yarn.She has done this in the most exemplary way, and has shown great interest in making sure that the yarn shall be exactly as we wish it to be.

…The worst is when it begins to be so cold for sitting and working, especially in the evenings.And the light also begins to get quite bad.One must find the right color during the brightest time of the day, and then continue working on that basis for as long as possible

…I wonder if the color of the figures’ eyes has any symbolic meaning or whether it is completely coincidental that all the earthly figures have blue eyes while the holy figures are light in color? I must remember to check this in other tapestries.

30th of January, 1945. The tapestry is progressing quickly. We sit on stools, each on our own table, which we find quite troublesome. What we’ll be sitting on in a few days we don’t know. We weave in a race, with war and threatening clouds on all sides. The other day a car repair shop in the immediate neighborhood blew up, and several window panes in the building here were broken. Sabotage. So the responsibility for this historic old tapestry weighs heavily on me.

“FINISHED! It was a nightmare to weave in the last weeks, we stood on a box on top of a table and had to work with our arms raised much too high. A full work day was almost unbearable, and we were in agreement that we wouldn’t have managed one more week in that position. The warp was also so very tight and hard at the last, it cut the skin on our fingers.

…Still unresolved are the problems of whether the wool was from a half year or a full year’s growth, whether it was spun “together” or whether some of the undercoat of wool was removed.The latter seems most likely; they have surely needed the finest, softest wool for clothing. But this issue has great importance for the tapestry as it determines the actual feel and weight of the textile.

Guardhair yarn that was left unused after the closure of A/S Norsk Billedvev.

Annemor Sundbø is a Norwegian author, knitter, weaver, historian, and curator. Perhaps her best title is also the title of an extensive profile of her on The Craftsmanship Initiative website, “Norwegian Sweater Detective.” Her most recent book, Koftearven, which examines the development of the Norwegian sweater tradition as a national treasure, won the 2020 Sørland Literature Prize. annemor.com
Read more by Annemor Sundbø in earlier issues of the Norwegian Textile Letter: Nettles – For Clothing and Much More (November 2017), and A Rag Pile, My Lot in Life (May 2016).
Translated by Katherine Larson, Department of Scandinavian Studies, University of Washington

Art Weaving in Valdres: Part One of Four

By Karin Mellbye Gjesdahl 

The following is part one of an article by Karin Melbye Gjesdahl, “Weaving in Valdres” [“Vevkunst I Valdres”] published in Valdres Bygdebok, Vol. 5, 1964, pp. 11-27. (A bygdebok is a compilation of local history.) Translated by Lisa Torvik, 2021.

Only a Fraction of Old Textiles Remain

In former times each farm was for the most part self-sufficient when it came to textiles for everyday use.  Spinning and weaving were among the capabilities one expected a young girl to be practiced in when she married.  Spinning wheel and loom were part of the dowry goods she brought with her to her new home.  This is a tradition which has been maintained nearly to our time.  Gjartrud Andersdatter Strand from Vang [in Valdres] hfigas told of the conditions in her rural home area at the close of the previous [19th] century.  “Then began carding, spinning and production of all types of yarn.  In the long winter evenings the spinning wheel hummed in every home. It was mostly in the spring that they wove. It was common in every home to weave a length for shirts, for “vadmel” [homespun wool cloth, usually fulled], and a length for wool skirt or dress fabric. In addition to these annual textiles they often wove coverlets, blankets, tapestries, linen and cotton table- and patterned cloth and whatever else they called them.”  (Knut Hermundstad, Old Valdres Culture. Vol. 4,  Family Legacy. [Gamal Valdres-kultur IV. Ættararv])  

This was the way of doing things from way back in time. Yes, numerous excavated graves have contained weaving equipment of various kinds and demonstrate that weaving was already common in prehistoric times in Valdres.

But though we can be quite sure that everyday textiles were commonly woven more or less on every farm in times gone by, very little of such work has been preserved to this day. Textiles have of course that unfortunate quality of being quickly worn out and ending up discarded.  Only a fraction of the rich textile production that we know once existed remains today. And that which remains is of course finer pieces, those which have been regarded with especially great reverence and care. Therefore it is difficult today to obtain a true picture of the textile holdings of homes in the past.

Textiles can also be easily transported from one place to another, so it is difficult to determine what is locally produced and what is imported from other places. Items can have arrived later in time through inheritance, marriage or as purchased goods. But they all contribute to illuminating the culture of a place and create a picture of it in time. To some extent, they also indicate the valley’s cultural and commercial ties.  We will therefore consider here the essentials of that which is preserved of old weavings in Valdres, even though we cannot provide evidence that they have been created there.

To some degree, written sources can flesh out the picture where physical material is lacking.  Textiles are written about in certain parts of Old Norse literature, and for later times, property inventories and estate settlements are a good source. But as a rule the description of textiles is very brief, and those who recorded the items were of course not textile experts.  The names used on the textiles of former times do not correspond to the common terms of today, so identification is often very difficult and much can be only conjecture.

Historical Use of Textiles in Homes

A great deal of information has been written down in our times about customary practices of long ago, such as older people could relate, but there is not much concerning textiles and their use. Before we turn to discussing the different groups of preserved Valdres textiles, let’s review some of what the written sources can tell us about the use of these textiles in former times.

From the Old Norse literature we know that in the Viking period, the Middle Ages and up to the 1500s it was very common to cover walls and ceilings with textiles, to tjelde [“tent”) the rooms on festive occasions. The common form for these wall tapestries was the long, frieze-style strips or borders of cloth and underneath a simpler, wider cloth covering. Such a narrow border could be either woven or embroidered. We have preserved several fragments of such pieces here [in Norway], and the embroidery from Røn church in [Vestre Slidre] Valdres is certainly what remains of such a long, narrow border (see fig. 4).

But we know very little about how common “tenting” was in the homes of ordinary farmers of the Middle Ages. Where “tenting” is mentioned in the sagas, it is usually in the context of a different social strata. Only when estate settlements occurred, with the registration and valuation of all the worldly goods of the deceased, do we get a certain insight into the holdings of a farmer’s home long ago. These estate records begin in the 1660s. Is there then something in the description of textiles to indicate that an old tradition from the Middle Ages of long, frieze-like tapestries to decorate walls persisted in the homes of farmers up into the 16- and 1700s?

The term husbonad [“furnishings”, modern “husbunad” = furniture] (Marta Hoffmann, A group of looms in Western Norway, pg. 111 [En gruppe vevstoler på Vestlandet]), which occasionally appears in estate settlements from the last half of the 1600s, can possibly represent a similar long, narrow tapestry.  Husbonad is known in sources from the Middle Ages and up to the mid-1500s, and the word is included in a dictionary from the Setesdal valley [Norway] from the end of the 1600s where it is defined as “the large woven cloths which formerly were used to cover the walls during weddings and parties.”

If we examine the approximately 190 estate settlements that occurred in Valdres in the periods 1659-1666 and 1697-1709 (the records from 1666-1697 are missing) we don’t see the term husbonad but instead we find vegge bonne twice. [“wall cloth”, “bonne”=teppe or cloth, esp. a woven wall cloth]  The first instance is in an estate settlement for Siffur Kiersten of Kjerstein [farm] in Øye, Vang. It is a relatively wealthy estate with a value of 375 riksdalar [Abbrev. as “rd.”, main silver coinage from 1544 to 1813], and the estate lists 1 Vegge Bonne for 2 rd. In a 1705 settlement for the estate of Thollef Olsen of Alvstad in Hegge, Øystre Slidre, we also come across a Veggebonne.  Here the estate value is just 130 rd.  A veggeteppe [“wall tapestry”] 13 ½ alen long at 5 rd. is registered in a wealthy estate settlement at Bren (Breie) in Etnedal in 1686 and it must also have been a long, narrow tapestry. (Olaus Islandsmoen, South Aurdal and Etnedal, pg. 171. [Søre Aurdal og Etnedalen])  [An alen is an ancient unit of measure = 47 cm in Viking times, gradually increasing to 62.5 cm when it went out of use in Norway in the 19th century.]

Swedish tapestries which are 7 alen long are mentioned twice.  Each could have been a long, narrow tapestry to hang on the wall, but they also can have been tablecloths. The latter are often listed as 7-8 alen long.  We don’t have any more specific information about the appearance of the veggebonad or the veggeteppe, but the terms themselves indicate they must have been tapestries to hang on a wall [“vegg”].  They cannot have been a common form for tapestries in those times since we so seldom find them mentioned. It could possibly be interpreted then that this was a type of tapestry which was no longer in use, had become old-fashioned, but also that they never were very commonly owned by farmers. Such long, narrow tapestries were appropriate for the årestuen, an older type of home without windows, and with the long unbroken walls of the Middle Ages.  [Like the longhouse, a home with a firepit – åre -in the center of the main room and a smoke hole in the roof was found in certain parts of Norway into the 19th century.]  When the fireplace became common, and walls were divided up by windows, this long design format no longer worked. Among higher social classes, in an urban setting, tapestries with a vertical design were those hung up on festive occasions.

We know little in regard to this practice of hanging tapestries with a vertical design format in farmers’ homes. The majority of all the tapestries which are listed in farmers’ estates are registered as coverlets and bed clothes. For this reason, some researchers have expressed doubt regarding the theory that farmers hung vertically designed tapestries on their walls in post-Reformation times, or that this constitutes a direct continuation of the “tenting” practice of the Middle Ages. (Roar Hauglid, Home, fireplace and tapestry weaving. Memories of the past (Vol.) XL [Hus, peis og billedvev. Fortids minner XL])

Of those estates reviewed from Valdres, we must of course be aware that it is not possible to go beyond the year 1709, that besides the two veggebonader and veggteppet there is only one specific mention of  tapestries hung on a wall. This is from Bø in Aurdal and the estate of Sigrid Olsdatter, married to Ingebrigt Michelsen, settled in 1706.  “A painted cloth on the wall” is mentioned in another estate settlement, which we will come back to later.  In the Bø estate, “1 pictorial weaving coverlet to hang up over the high seat for 3 rd. and 1 Lesnings [“Lesnings” – see discussion below] coverlet with geometric designs for 2 rd. and 2 ort.” [When 1 rd.=4 kroner, 1 ort=80 øre, an øre being 1/100 of a krone.  This fraction of rd. and its successor, the spesiedalar, also went out of use in 1875.]  This was a very well furnished home with no less than 18 sheepskin bedcovers, and a fortune valued at 462 rd., so this example probably does not represent the practices of the common farmer. However, though not specifically mentioned in the estate settlements that some of the tapestries and coverlets listed were used to hang on walls on special and festive occasions, we cannot be certain that was not done.

In this connection it might be interesting to discuss the previously mentioned painted wall cloth which is registered in two separate estates from Nordre Røn [farm] in Vestre Slidre. The first settlement is from 1699 and here we find “1 cloth on the wall at the lower end of the table” valued at 2 ort, and “1 cloth which hangs over the table for 16 skilling. [1 skilling = 1/120th of a (riks)dalar]  8 years later there was a new settlement on the same farm and here we again meet the cloth on the wall, now described as “an old painted cloth on the wall and 1 ditto [of the same type] used over the table.” The settlement from 1699 is also a very wealthy estate, well furnished with textiles and a fortune of 565 rd. Is this also a description of decorating the high seat? Of course, we might think it was normal to name the high seat as the seat at the upper end of the table, not the lower end. But many places had two high seats, one for the host diagonally opposite the fireplace at one end of the table [in the wall corner], and one for the most honored guest at the other end of the table. 

Were some of the textiles painted cloths?

In the settlement from 1707 we learn that this cloth was painted. Perhaps some of the husbonader or veggbonader which are described in [Norway] are painted? Painted wallcloths were common elsewhere in Europe in the period of 1400-1600s and were also known in Norway. They are mentioned several times, among others in an inventory of the personal property which Aslak Bolt in 1429 brought with him from Bergen to Trondheim when he became archbishop. Several husbonader are listed with painted pictures in water colors and also some with printed décor. Quite a few such painted bonader [cloths] are preserved in Norway and Sweden, most of them from the early 1600s, but one from Setesdal [in Norway] is also characteristic of the Middle Ages. They have probably been a cheaper substitute for the more costly woven or embroidered bonader.  The motifs of these painted bonader are in part the same which we see repeated in our pictorial tapestries. In Hedal church in Valdres there are several such painted bonader, of which “The rich man and Lazarus” (fig. 1) especially has much in common with tapestries such as “The Wedding at Cana” and “Herod’s Feast”.   We must perhaps search for the models for many of our later tapestries in these painted bonader and to the painted walls and wall coverings in Swedish farmers’ homes of the 1700s and 1800s.  This could explain why Norwegian pictorial tapestries and Swedish painted bonader largely contain the same range of motifs and could possibly solve the problem of the medieval characteristics which are common in both groups.  The inexplicable dates which we find on some of our tapestries could possibly be interpreted as copied directly from the dates on such bonader.

Figure 1. Painted bonad [cloth] in Hedal Church, 1623.

Let us look a little closer at the estate settlements from North Røn.  The painted cloth was valued at just 2 ort in 1699, which is only 1/6 of the value of the woven coverlet at Bø, and the cloth above the table at 16 skilling.  These must have therefore been relatively plain pieces. A painted cloth can also have been just a cloth with a printed pattern. We have seen that the word “painted” used in the sense of “printed” sometimes in settlements in discussion of sheepskin bedcovers, where painted sheepskins probably refers to printed patterns on the skin side, which we know was commonly done in Hallingdal [valley south of Valdres].  “Towels” with printed pattern are known from different parts of the country, so it is certainly possible that our painted cloth could have been something similar.

The cloth hanging over the table has been interpreted as possibly a fine horizontal extended cloth or ceiling [cloth].  Such “ceilings” over the table are known from farmers’ homes in Sweden, but we have little that indicates they have been used in Norway, so this is unlikely.  In addition, the valuation of 16 skilling is not more than a regular towel in the same settlement.

Christmas Cloths

Could it be perhaps the Christmas cloth which we here see mentioned for the first time?  The custom of hanging up white, braided edgings along the walls and a towel with braided or knotted bottom fringes over a woven tapestry behind the high seat appears to have been widespread in Valdres. This is mentioned several times in [Hermundstad’s] Gamal Valdres-kultur, and one of the elderly sources the author used describes it thus: “The women trimmed the house for the holiday [Christmas]. Over the high seat they hung up the high seat tapestry. This was only used at Christmas. The fireplace mantle, the clock case, the main cupboard, the corner cupboard, the plate cupboard and the shelf hanging above the table – called the table crown – were decorated on their edges with woven lace with long fringes. Each thing had its own part of the decoration with a special design and weaving. The high seat tapestry and Christmas laces were packed away from one year to the next.”

Our “cloth which hangs over the table” could therefore be the cloth or border which was placed on the “crown”, the shelf that hung over the table. Christmas cloths such as this are not just preserved in the museums but also around on farms to this day, where we can find them laid away with instructions about where the different borders are to be placed. The Christmas “towel” itself was often embroidered. In Bagn Bygdesamling [The local collection of artifacts in Bagn, South Aurdal, Valdres] there is such a cloth, embroidered in holbeinsøm (fig. 2) in brown and blue with the year 1774 (?) sewn in. 

Fig. 2.  “Christmas towel” in linen, embroidered with holbeinsøm.  Dated 1774 (?) Bagn Bygdesamling.  [The bottom border appears to be firfletting, or four-fold braiding] 

It is also possible that some can have had printed patterns.  Several “towels” with printed patterns and braided lower borders are preserved from Numedal [valley south of Hallingdal], where the size [approx. 100 x 60 cm] may indicate they were Christmas cloths.  We do not know how far back we can trace this custom. The first time we find it mentioned in the printed sources is in author J.N. Wilse, Description of Spydeberg Parish [Beskrivelse over Spydeberg Præstegjeld] from 1779. Eilert Sundt also discusses it in his book On Cleanliness in Norway [Om Renligheds-Stellet i Norge] in 1869. In estate settlements from Hallingdal of the 1750s, high seat towels or cloths are mentioned several times. But otherwise this topic is still little researched in this country. Some researchers believe we have here a throwback, a pale substitute for the “tenting” of the Middle Ages. This custom is not only known in different districts here [in Norway] but is also very widespread in Sweden and especially in connection with richer textile furnishings, which researchers believe is undoubtedly a continuation of the textile décor of the Middle Ages. It is of course possible that the practice has come to Norway in later times with Swedish traders, but it may also have an early common origin.

In any case it is certain that, as certain researchers have asserted, there is a connection between these braided borders and the custom of painting a narrow border uppermost on the walls of the røykovn houses [open corner fireplaces without chimneys] found in Western Norway, called kroting (Helen Engelstad, Borders-Bunad-Tenting, pg. 34. [Refil-Bunad-Tjeld])  [Kroting means decorative carving or painting; bunad is local traditional clothing.]  The decoration here normally consists of triangles, crosses and dots and is a tangible reflection of the patterns of such a braided border.  Kroting has also been known in Valdres. In Gamal Valdres-kultur Gjartrud Andersdatter Strand tells about Christmas: “Mother said that in her youth they chalked flowers around on the walls and ceiling in the smoke-blackened cabins.” [Raustestogo = small timber single-story homes]  An old man in Øye [Vang in Valdres] could also relate that these braided borders were replaced with “laces” cut in paper.

But though we cannot for now be clear about how widespread the custom was to cover walls with textiles in farmers’ homes, or whether we can at all speak of any direct continuation of medieval “tenting,” the estate settlements offer more precise information in regard to bed clothes.

Bed coverings mentioned in estate records

As for bed covers we find a rich variety of tapestries and coverlets, but it is very difficult to identify the different pieces today from the names they were given then.

The most common bed cover has been the sheepskin coverlet.  [Skinnfell = prepared sheep or other skins, often two or more sewn together, with a soft leather side and an intact wool side with fleece up to several inches long. The soft leather side was sometimes printed with designs or covered with a woven textile, depending on local traditions.]  There could be from one or two up to 19 skinnfell in the same estate settlement. Most often they were skins of sheep, but calfskins have also been mentioned, and in a few cases we encounter reindeer skins and bearskins.  The latter have probably been used in sleighs.  The skins usually had a textile cover sewn on the leather side.  Swedish tapestries are mentioned, “a home woven, geometrically patterned tapestry” and several striped textiles.  Simpler fabric such as red or blue clothing material or “homespun” also appears.  These have sometimes been embroidered such as the coverlet owned by the Museum of Art and Design in Oslo that came from Løken farm in [Øystre Slidre] Valdres.  It is covered with red fulled woolen cloth, richly embroidered with flowers and birds and the inscription “P K S i 1786, B L D Enag”, initials of two people and date 1786 as well as most likely [indicating connection to] Einang [farm] in Vestre Slidre [Valdres.] [See photo here.] Many elderly sources in Valdres still tell of such skins covered with black wool and embroidered initials.  As mentioned before, we also see certain “painted” skins in settlements.  One assumes this means a printed pattern, but I have also seen the backside [skin side] of a woven pillow which was marked in squares with brown paint. 

Pile-woven bed covers seem to also have been used to some extent.  In the estate settlements which are reviewed,  we encounter them 12 times. These also are often sewn to another textile.  In certain cases we learn that the bed cover is gold or gray, gold- or gray-striped, and one is dated 1691. As far as I know, there are no pile textiles from Valdres preserved today.

Of all the different bed clothes which are named, it appears that the so-called lesnings are the most common. 46 are registered in the settlements reviewed, often without any further information about their appearance. A couple of times it is noted that they are striped, one is called checked or plaid, and one as “multicolored.” One is described as an old “half-lesnings” cloth. These must have been quite costly textiles, as the valuation is often between 2 ½ to 3 rd.  But what kind of textiles or tapestries hide behind this term lesning is difficult to say today.  The same term appears in other parts of the country, sometimes named as listning bed clothes, and the word was also known in the Middle Ages.   

In the district of Aust-Agder the term løssningsåkle is used, which today is the term used for a tapestry in krokbragd technique. (Marta Hoffmann,  A group of looms in Western Norway, pg. 165.)  But I don’t believe that can be the original meaning.  A valuation of 3 rd. is improbably high for such a relatively simple technique.

Could it possibly be geometrically patterned tapestries – ruteåklær  we are talking about here?  In the districts of Bohuslän, Västergötland and Blekinge in Sweden, geometrically patterned tapestries are called läset or läsena cloths.  Is this the same word? It can be noted here that very few geometrically patterned tapestries from Valdres are preserved, and the description as “striped” is not very characteristic of this technique.  But we have examples of square patterns in ruteåklær being separated by woven borders and in that way give the impression of stripes.  This problem will likely remain unresolved until we have broader research of estate settlements from different parts of the country.

In terms of numbers, the next largest group after “leanings” bed clothes is the “døell” or “døles” group. The majority of them are recorded in the 1660s.  The usual valuation is from 1 ½ to 2 rd.  The term also appears in estate settlements that are reviewed from the districts of inner Sogn [west of Valdres] and Land [east of Valdres]. One might assume that this term refers to textiles or tapestries from the valley of Gudbrandsdalen [north of Valdres], but we are given no further information about what kind of textiles these are. [Døl refers to a person –a dalesman – or thing from the eastern mountain valleys of Norway, e.g. a person from Gudbrandsdal is a Gudbrandsdøl.] It is possible that these can be double weaves, as besides pictorial tapestries they were also a specialty for Gudbrandsdal.  In an estate from 1705 we find a “double Flemish “døel” bed covering” valued at 4 rd.  This must be a tapestry-woven coverlet because of the high valuation.  On the other hand, a “4-harness døle coverlet” for 1 rd. and 2 ort could possibly be a double woven textile.  This was registered in 1706 at Byffellien farm in Bruflat [Etnedal, Valdres] where there is also found an “old ditto” at 3 ort.

In her book on double weave in Norway, Helen Engelstad indicated that 4-harness or døles textiles were possibly identical with double-woven coverlets. In estates from Valdres “4-harness bed covers” are mentioned several times, primarily in the 1660s, and their valuations are between 1 ½ and 2 ½ rd. This term is known as early as the 1300s and 1400s, and in estate settlement it is used in Gudbrandsdal as well as other parts of the country.

There are no double-woven tapestries from more recent times preserved in Valdres, but they could have existed long ago.  On the other hand, there are two double-woven textiles with geometrical knot and cross motifs in Lomen and Ulnes churches (both in Vestre Slidre, Valdres) which must date from medieval times.  Accordingly we can’t say anything definitive about which techniques lie behind the terms døl or “4-harness.”  They must in any case represent two different types of textiles, since both terms appear several times in the same estate settlement.

Plate 1. Double weave tapestry from Lomen [Vestre Slidre] church (130 x 80 cm).  Probably from the 12- or 1300s. Details.

A great many Swedish textiles also appear in the settlements, mainly from around 1700 and later, with only one from the 1660s.  As mentioned before, we see them often in connection with sheepskin coverlets, but also separately.  It is common to interpret the term “Swedish tapestries” as textiles using the skillbragd technique, those of which in Valdres today are called kristneteppe.  [“Kristneteppe” or christening tapestry is woven with wool weft overshot on linen or cotton ground in characteristically patterned bands; hung at Christmas and also used for christenings and weddings, sometimes funerals.] 

An example of a kristneteppe, woven in skillbragd technique. Owned by the Valdres Folkemuseum. This was not in the original essay. Artifact details.

It is possible that the designation can also cover textiles woven in other techniques.  Fragments have been preserved from certain thin, light textiles in Valdres, (fig. 3) woven in wool on a linen warp with patterned borders in monk’s belt between stripes of varying widths. 

Fig. 3  Part of a textile woven of fine wool with borders in monk’s belt technique, remade into a pillow.  From Øye in Vang [Valdres].  Possibly Swedish origin.  Owner Knut Hermundstad, Leira [Valdres].

As mentioned in the settlements, one such textile used as a backing on a sheepskin coverlet is found at the Norwegian Folk Museum [Norsk Folkemuseum, Bygdøy, Oslo].  It is preserved with somewhat dark colors, of which ochre gold and brown dominate, while fragments of a couple other tapestries have lighter, well defined colors. (NF 340-48 and 811b-06.)  Such textiles are reported in Sweden and were, besides skillbragd textiles, a common Swedish export item.  It is well known that Swedish skreppekarer or peddlers, the so-called Västgötaknaller brought these textiles with them along with other wares on their travels to Norway and Denmark.  In estate settlements from Valdres, bed ticking fabric, scythes and grinding stones of Swedish origin are named.  A few times it is noted that the textiles are striped.  In 1705, a double long striped [textile] is listed.  They are valued at 2 rd. while the usual value is around 1 rd.

In regard to “Hallingdal,” brøtnings, or braatnings bed clothes we find in the settlements, we don’t have any points of reference as to their meaning.  “Hallingdal” bed clothes or coverlets appear to have been fashionable in the 1660s.  Very many of them are described as being new.  In settlements from around 1700 however the term disappeared.  The value of the new items was about 2 rd.

The valuation of the brøtnings textiles on the other hand is commonly no more than 1 rd.  Once, a striped one is mentioned.  All those registered are from around 1700.  We could perhaps guess that it could be krokbragd tapestries going by this name, as they are in many places called “thick coverlets,” but we don’t know anything for certain.  

The Most Valuable Bedcovers: “Flemish Weavings,” or Tapestries

The decidedly most costly of all bed clothes were the “Flemish.”   And here we can in all probability assume that Flemish means tapestries which we now call pictorial weaving or gobelin weaving.  In Sweden today tapestry weaving is called Flemish weaving.  But we cannot totally rule out that they meant textiles which came from Flanders. In the settlements we reviewed approximately 25 Flemish woven tapestries are registered.  For several of them from the 1660s it is noted that they are new.  It was not everyone’s ability to own such an item, but on the larger farms they could have up to 3 pieces registered.  On the other hand it appears that Flemish pillows and bench cushions were fairly widely owned.  Just once is it noted that the tapestry had a pictorial motif.  That was at the inn on Skogstad farm, Øye, Vang, where on the whole there were very rich textile furnishings.  Here were in 1666 two Flemish tapestries, each with a value of 4 rd., and of which one is described as “1 new Flemish pictorial bed cover.”  The two on Steinde farm in Ulnes [Vestre Slidre, Valdres] in 1661 must have been somewhat simpler as they are valued at just 2 ½ rd.  On Upper Kvåle farm in Vang, they had acquired a new Flemish coverlet, possibly because the old one was “mouse-hairy.”  The settlement here was in 1698.  The same year there was also an estate settlement at “Stoer Qvale” farm in Slidre [Vestre Slidre] where 3 Flemish bed covers were registered, but the value for these was just 2 rd.  All of these examples are taken from settlements with fortunes between 500 and approximately 900 rd.  It is really striking that the value for such a tapestry in the Valdres settlements is not set higher than 4 rd.  From other settlements we know they could have been valued at 6 or 7 rd.  They must therefore have been simpler textiles with purely ornamental motifs.

As we see, there must have been a rich variety of different types of textiles on beds, but in many places the furnishings were relatively simple with a featherbed or thin mattress, a pillow and a cloth or sheepskin coverlet.  On the other hand, it is seldom that the family was so impoverished as in the home of a widower “who in response to questioning said they owned no bedclothes of wool or linen, and that he together with his children had nothing that was of value.”  At the same time there were estates with very rich furnishings, such as for example at Ellingbø farm in Vang in 1697, where there were 9 featherbeds, 7 pillows, 18 bed covers, 20 sheepskin coverlets, 14 cushions and 5 bench cushions, besides linens of all kinds.

Textiles Were Used at Funerals and Christenings

The estate settlements thus give no other information about all these textiles and coverlets other than they have been used as bed clothes, aside from the 2 described as “hung up over the high seat.”  But we have a couple of sources which indicate that woven textiles have also been used as funeral coverlets.  In author Knut Hermundstad’s Old Valdres Culture. Vol. 2, Farm Life [Gamal Valdres-kultur, Vol 2, Bondeliv, 1940] Ragndi Nilsdotter Moen from Leira related that when the coffin was placed in a wagon or on a sleigh to be taken to the cemetery “a folded home-woven cloth was laid over the coffin.”  And in Hermundstad’s Family Legacy, Dorte A. Dokken tells about a vision that Jens of Sandhaugo [farm] had:  “I became aware of a coffin between two giant spruce trees.  A cloth was spread over it.  It was black in background with so many fine flowers on it, I have never seen such a fine cloth.”  We can of course interject here this was just a vision, a dream, but the basis for such visions lies always in a scene from experience.  He must have seen something similar at an earlier time. 

From other parts of the country we also know that woven or embroidered textiles were used as covers for coffins.   In Gudbrandsdal and South Trøndelag, we know that double-weave coverlets were used in this way, and from other districts we have examples of both geometrically woven and skillbragd textiles which were used as coffin covers.  (Helen Engelstad,   Doubleweave in Norway, pg. 69. [Dobbeltvev i Norge])  The tapestry with three holy kings, the Magi, from Leine [farm, Valdres], which has ended up in the USA, is said to have been used in funerals and lent out for that purpose around in their rural community.

It is of course well known that skillbragd textiles and to some extent dreiel [tightly woven cloth of linen and/or cotton] textiles were used to wrap children when they were taken to the church for christening.  This is the origin of the term “kristneteppe” or christening blanket.  The term and the custom are also known in other parts of the country.

Bench Covers Were Common

The textile furnishings of a farmer’s home also included bench cushions or bench coverings and pillows.  Very few chairs were found in the older houses.  The most common furniture for seating was a bench attached to a wall.  For festive occasions, bench cushions or covers were laid on these and pillows or cushions were set up for the back.  Such bench pillows and cushions appear in most of the settlements.  The number can vary widely.  As many as there were at North Røn [Vestre Slidre] was unusual.  In 1699, 22 pillows and 6 bench cushions were registered there.  Such bench cushions could often be of a considerable length.  Here lengths up to 6 ½ alen are mentioned.  We learn that both the pillows and the bench cushions could be in Flemish or lesnings weave technique, in gold and red, gold and blue, in blue, red and gold or other colors.  Some are described as plaid or striped, red and white checked, and some are noppete [nubbly].  This must have meant they were woven in half-pile [short, uncut loops].  These are basically the same types we see in those which have been preserved.  They are very often made with leather undersides, sometimes reported to be backed by cloth, for example red wool cloth.  Pillows made for sleighs are also reported several times.

Examining Textiles that have been Preserved

This is then the essential information we can derive from the written sources about woven textiles and their use in Valdres in former times, but now let us look at what is preserved up to our present day.

It is reasonable that we cannot expect to find a great number of textiles that date to the Middle Ages, even fewer of secular use.  But that does not mean that they never existed.  First and foremost in churches we find hope that medieval textiles have withstood the ravages of time.  In this way, Valdres is well situated.  We are so fortunate to have saved both a fragment of an embroidery depicting figures from Røn church (fig. 4) and the remains of two tapestries in reversible double weave from Lomen and Ulnes churches (plate I and fig. 5).  [All located in Vestre Slidre, Valdres.] The embroidery from Røn must certainly have originally been a long, narrow tapestry which was common in the Middle Ages.  It is dated to approximately 1200.  (Helen Engelstad, Borders-Bunad-Tenting, pg. 81.)  But as embroideries do not come under the subject of this paper, we will not discuss it further here. 

Fig. 4. Embroidered border from Røn church. Fragment. University Collection of Antiquities

Fig. 5.  Tapestry in double weave in Ulnes church (99 x 74 cm.) Probably from 1200s or 1300s.

Plate 1. Double weave tapestry from Lomen [Vestre Slidre] church (130 x 80 cm).  Probably from the 12- or 1300s. Details.

Can the tapestries from Lomen and Ulnes also have had a long-narrow format and been meant to decorate the walls?  Or is it right, as has been interpreted about the Lomen tapestry, that it was a funeral tapestry?  (H. Engelstad, Borders-Bunad-Tenting, pg. 91.)  The Ulnes tapestry has not been addressed previously.  Anders Bugge mentions it in Valdres 900 Year Journal of 1923, [Valdres 900 Årskrift 1923] but it has only now been brought to light by Egil Sinding-Larsen’s inventory of the church.

Both tapestries display a complex, entirely symmetrically constructed knot motif, a “valknute” in one area of the tapestry [a “valknute” is an ancient knot-like symbol, with three or four rounded corners formed by an single unbroken line], a somewhat simpler and coarser knot on the Lomen tapestry than on the Ulnes work, while the rest of the tapestries are covered with repeated patterns.  On the Ulnes tapestry, the “crossed cross” is placed within squares set diagonally which fill the entire surface, while the Lomen tapestry is divided up in small rectangles which again form a little cross.  On the latter tapestry, the knot motif is on two sides bounded by broad, geometric borders. 

The “valknute” most certainly has been imbued with magical meaning.  We find it on other textiles from the Middle Ages and in later times, and within folk art it has often been used on everyday objects.    Originally it was probably a pagan symbol, but later was given a Christian content.  We can’t know for certain which meaning it is given here.  People probably believed it had protective power, and that is likely part of the reason Helen Engelstad thought that the Lomen tapestry had been a funeral coverlet, that the “valknute” would prevent the dead from rising from the grave.  This tapestry is cut off on one end, has selvedges along the two long sides and its width is 80 cm.  Approximately the same width that the Ulnes tapestry must have had, though it now measures 74 cm.  Even if it has cut edges on all side, the knot is complete.  This width corresponds in height to a group of tapestries in double weave with figurative depictions that are preserved in fragments.  They must have had considerable length and been intended to hang on the wall.  The clothing of the figures in these tapestries show that they must have been made as late as the 1500s or 1600s but there are many old fashioned elements in them which indicate strong traditional influence and partly hearken back to older archetypes.  Among others we again find several of the motifs from the Ulnes and Lomen tapestries.  (Helen Engelstad, Doubleweave in Norway, Fig. 3, 4, 25, 27.)   A couple of these tapestries come from Trøndelag and one from Inner Sogn.  Although all these tapestries have figurative motifs, tapestries with purely ornamental patterns may also have existed, which were intended to hang on walls.

The Lomen tapestry is woven in white linen and red and blue wool.  The same for the Ulnes tapestry, but here some green wool is also used.  These are the same colors and materials which we find in other double weavings from the early middles ages in Scandinavia.  The Lomen tapestry is dated by Helen Engelstad to the 1200s or 1300s, and that from Ulnes must likely originate in approximately the same period.

Part Two of Art Weaving in Valdres discusses a highly valued type of textiles–billedvev, or tapestry.

 

A Connection to Frida Hansen in St. Louis?

By Jane Olson Glidden

It’s wonderful when life takes us in directions that connect the past with the present; I always try to watch for those links because I know they are not accidental.  This story begins with my connections to Norway, where my grandfather was born. My first trip to Norway was in the 1970s, when my sister and I were searching for clues about his birthplace.  While that initial quest was unsuccessful, I did discover a fascination for Norwegian weavers, namely Frida Hansen, Hannah Ryggen and Unn Sønju!  Now, after forty-plus years and three more trips, I finally found my grandfather’s birthplace on a farm in Ølen, and have visited dozens of museums and galleries to satisfy my interest in the history of weaving and in my favorite weavers from Norway. 

These days, much of my life is focused on involvement in my local guild, the Weavers’ Guild of St. Louis, which recently celebrated its 95th anniversary.  The guild was founded in March of 1926 as an extension of the weaving classes at the School of Fine Art at Washington University in St. Louis, Missouri.  The guild has an extensive archive, but we continue to research the artists from our guild and our history as the second oldest weaving guild in the nation.  

Transparent Tapestry was interesting, even in a small black-and-white photo.

Several years ago, I saw an article in our archives with a black and white photo of a piece titled Transparent Tapestry by Mrs. E. Siroky, which had been featured in a guild exhibition in 1939.  The piece called to me, even in black and white.  I knew I needed to locate that piece.  I found the artist’s name listed as Mrs. Elsie Siroky in the guild archives. She was one of our early members, joining the guild in 1927 while studying weaving with Miss Lillian Glaser at Washington University. Then, I found myself scouring the white pages and calling random phone numbers listed under the last name of Siroky.  Miraculously, I eventually found a family member who gave me the name of Elsie Siroky’s daughter, Joye, who was kind enough to invite me to her home to view and photograph more examples of her mother’s work.  Within a few feet of her front door, I found myself face to face with the captivating, full color version of Transparent Tapestry.  I immediately felt like I was transported back to Norway, discovering Frida Hansen’s work for the very first time.  I suspected there had to be a connection somewhere because the piece was so reminiscent of the transparent portieres designed by Frida Hansen.  

Transparent Tapestry, Elsie Siroky

When the light source is behind the transparency you can see the shapes formed by the areas of open warp.

Earlier this year, I had the opportunity to meet with Joye’s daughter Heidi, a granddaughter of Elsie Siroky, so I could get better photos of her work.  Once again, I found myself absolutely enthralled as we spent an entire day enjoying a rare treasure trove of photo albums and a newly discovered school portfolio filled with weaving notes, designs, pattern drafts and even the actual cartoons from several of Elsie’s pieces.  Amazingly, we found the folded paper cartoon for Transparent Tapestry.   The full size cartoon on graph paper was very detailed, with meticulous notes on color changes and open warp areas.  It appeared to be drawn with colored pencils. 

We also found sketches for weaving her initials E.S. and the year 1930 into the design. This was a revelation because they were well hidden in the diamond shapes in the corners at the bottom of the piece, but easily recognized after seeing the design drawings. 

Elsie Siroky’s initials and the date were woven at the bottom, but are almost impossible to see because they are woven in the same yarn as the background.

After enlisting the help of other guild members, we searched for a direct link between Elsie Siroky and Frida Hansen but found no specific evidence.  We did find one intriguing possibility though, with documentation that Elsie’s weaving teacher, Lillian Glaser, had traveled throughout Europe in 1930.  In a March, 1931, article by Louis La Coss in the St. Louis Globe-Democrat Magazine, Glaser was quoted as saying, “Norway and Sweden, you know, do the best weaving in the world today.  In other years France led, but the crown has been taken from that country by the Scandinavians.  Last summer I visited eight countries in Europe – Norway and Sweden, Germany, Switzerland, Czecho-Slovakia, Austria, Italy, France, and England.  Everywhere I found an intense interest in the art, far beyond the traditional attention that has been paid to it for centuries.  In Norway and Sweden, especially, I found the art developed to its finest form.”

Perhaps this was the link that connected Frida Hansen with Lillian Glaser’s students.  We know that Lillian Glaser traveled to Norway in 1930 and two of her students went on to weave their own transparent tapestries with a distinct resemblance to Hansen’s work.  We know that Elsie Siroky wove her Transparent Tapestry in 1930 and her classmate, Carolyn Horton Cowan, likely wove hers in the same semester.  You can certainly see the influence of Frida Hansen’s design aesthetics and imagery when you compare both student-woven transparent tapestries side by side with Hansen’s Summer Night’s Dream [Sommernattsdrøm, 1914].  All three tapestries have a strong Art Nouveau style with similar motifs of stylized garden settings with trees.  The circles indicate areas with specific design similarities like the white spots and elongated shapes in the tree foliage.   

From left to right: Transparent Tapestry by Elsie Siroky, Summer Night’s Dream by Frida Hansen, and a transparency woven by another student of Lillian Glaser, Carolyn Horton Cowan

It certainly appears that Lillian Glaser introduced Frida Hansen’s unique transparent tapestry technique to her students after her visit to Norway, but nine decades later, finding proof is quite a challenge.  I love how this story connects so many facets of my life; interest in my Norwegian heritage, my love for weaving in general, and my fascination with the weavers/artists that left such a wonderful legacy in this art. I am excited to work with my fellow guild members as we continue to research our guild history while we approach our 100th Anniversary in 2026.  Perhaps someday we will discover the precise details that connect Frida Hansen with Lillian Glaser and her talented students. For now we can all appreciate the impact of Frida Hansen’s groundbreaking work and admire the amazing efforts of two weaving students inspired by her technique and designs. 

Jane Olson Glidden weaves in St. Louis. She is active in the Weavers’ Guild of St. Louis where she is a member of several study groups including their Swedish Weaving Study Group.  She co-founded the guild’s annual sale in 1983 and continues to serve as Sale Chairperson.  She was awarded Lifetime Honorary Membership in the guild in 2012. 

Weaving Bewitchment: Gerhard Munthe’s Folk-Tale Tapestries

Laurann Gilbertson and Kathleen Stokker.  
A reprint in pdfWeaving Bewitchment: Gerhard Munthe’s Folk-Tale Tapestries, Vesterheim Magazine, Vol. 1, No. 2, 2003.

This article was first published in the magazine, Vesterheim, Vol. 1, No.2, 2003. Check vesterheim.org for information on how to become a Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum member and receive future Vesterheim magazines. 

Laurann Gilbertson and Kathleen Stokker answer the questions people often have when looking at the tapestry images of Norwegian artist Gerhard Munthe–what’s going on? What is that troll doing? For example, in “The Three Brothers” (“De Tre Brødre”), why do we only see young women?

“The Three Brothers.” Version owned by Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum. (Be sure to notice the trolls with long noses in the background.)

The authors solve the mystery. 

The number three appears more naturally in the tapestry called “De Tre Brødre” (The Three Brothers). The tale that this tapestry is based on describes how three beautiful princesses are kidnapped and locked inside the trolls’ castle. The trolls throw the key out the window and bewitch the women’s sweethearts, three brothers, transforming them into a deer, a fish, and a bird. After years of searching, the bird finds the key and, with the help of the deer and fish, rushes to the castle to unlock the door. The princesses recognize their sweethearts, who then instantly return to their human forms.

It’s fun to read the stories behind the tapestries. Thank you to Vesterheim for allowing digital access to Norwegian Textile Letter readers.     Robbie LaFleur

[Book Review] Gerhard Munthe: Norwegian Pioneer of Modernism

By Sally Reckert

Gerhard Munthe: Norwegian Pioneer of Modernism
Jan Kokkin (translated by Arlyne Moi)
Arnoldsche Art Publishers (Stuttgart), 2018
296 pp.; 48 colour and 200 b&w illus.; bibliography; index of names.

Everyone interested in European Art Nouveau should add Jan Kokkin’s richly illustrated book Gerhard Munthe: Norwegian Pioneer of Modernism to their library. Arnoldsche published both the Norwegian and English editions of the book in 2018 to accompany the most comprehensive exhibition of Munthe’s work since 1917 (Nasjonalmuseet, Oslo, Norway).

Gerhard Munthe (1849–1929) significantly contributed to Art Nouveau’s international diversity. His radical, abstract style, partly based on old Norwegian folk art, evolved at a time when artifacts were mostly imported into Norway from Scandinavia and Europe. 

Norway was last an independent state in the fourteenth century and only regained independence in 1907, more than half-way through Munthe’s life. Like many artists and writers of newly emerged nations, he saw a need to imbue the nation with a cultural identity of its own: “Munthe’s work is an essential part of our true national development…because it seeks to build our self-esteem from within and not from outside.” (Gerhard Gran in Samtiden, 1895).

Sketches, patterns and Munthe’s finished artworks, translated into the manufactured arts for which he designed them, illustrate every page of Kokkin’s book. It is particularly interesting to see contemporary photographs of Munthe’s interior designs. Although these works are now lost we can get a glimpse of his intention to surround Norwegians with artifacts in their domestic and public lives that were wholly made in Norway by Norwegians for Norwegians.

Like many Art Nouveau artists, Munthe wrote about his theories of style in decoration, not to go forwards but to develop a national Norwegian cultural character.

Small Trout and Marsh Marigolds. Nasjonalmuseet, Oslo

Nature was his starting point; he’d trained in the Naturalist school of painting, continuing to paint the Norwegian landscape throughout his life. Examples include trout swimming amongst marsh marigolds for wallpaper (1891), a watercolour of blue goats frolicking amongst pine branches (1891), and blue anemones on porcelain dinner services (nd). Munthe also stylised and blended nature with traditional motifs from folk work and art history. “I had to dig into the past… beyond Peasant Rococo and Gothic style of the Bronze Age. I felt that was the most Norwegian… I was also helped by the Assyrian and Egyptian styles and in this way ended up with a rhythmic style I used in Snorre and in the fairy tales.”

Kokkin focuses in particular on Munthe’s Fairytale watercolours and his illustrations for the prose Edda of Snorri Sturluson (Icelandic, 13th century), one of the richest sources of Norse mythology; and the late medieval visionary poem Draumkvedet or ‘Dream Ballad’. 

For readers outside Norway Munthe is perhaps best known for the tapestries based on the Fairytale watercolours, for example: The Golden Birds, 1899; The Three Brothers, 1902; and The Yellow Hair, 1903. Unlike his contemporary, Frida Hansen, he never wove tapestries himself. However, copies of patterns based on the watercolours were much sought after, something Munthe disliked: “All work which is based on copying will always be less clear and poorer – and I cannot take responsibility for that”. He used only a handful of trusted weavers,including his wife Sigrun, Frida Hansen, Augusta Christensen (The Suitors, 1897 [displayed on the book cover]; The Blood Tower, 1902) and Kristine Johannessen (The Bewitched, 1898). He gave them precise instructions to use only coarse, hard yarn to show line clearly, artificial dyes for strength of typical Norwegian colours, and flat, shadowless planes and contours. Ulrike Greve (The Wise Bird, 1903) wrote of the difficulties novice weavers faced: “There were two particular ways in which we sinned badly against Munthe’s drawings. We did not know that colour values in a watercolour change when the size increases exponentially, and we did not sense the difference in quality when the same colour was painted in watercolour and when it was woven… Goodness, how these tapestries became heavy and saturated.”

“The Three Brothers.” Version owned by Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum.

Categorising Kokkin’s book is not easy, which begs the question: Who is the English edition aimed at? Kokkin selects images from Munthe’s work to understand his theories on style and the abstraction of nature into decorative design. At the same time, the book is also a comprehensive catalogue of Munthe’s artistic work. For an English reader, it is a distinct disadvantage not to have a general index to cross-reference and link the plethora of unfamiliar names with works, places and ideas of Munthe and his contemporaries.

Munthe’s designs were successful in early 20th century Norway and were applied across a wide range of manufactured objects: tapestries, porcelains, furniture, tableware, wallpaper, book illustrations, building interiors and monuments. “The intrepid freshness in the colours is unified in his drawings in a very expressive line, dominated by a purity in style that now and then leads towards strictness, such as one can see in the twelve watercolours that are now on show at the Libre Esthétique.” (Alfred Jarry in La Revue Blanche, 1902). For Munthe style was a language to be learned and used to create fresh designs.

It’s a pity that the one form that brings all these ideas into a whole work – interior design – now only survives through black and white photographs; for example, the Fairy-Tale Room in Holmenkollen Turisthotell (1896–98), which burned in 1914.  Oslo Håkonshallen (1910–15) in Bergen was referred to in the paper Tidens Tegn as “an attraction that will forever testify to Munthe’s unique contribution to Norwegian decorative art.” That interior was destroyed by bombs in 1944.

Håkonshallen in Bergen. Photo: Nasjonalmuseet, Oslo

Kokkin reluctantly concludes in his last chapter, ‘Legacy’, that: “Despite influencing Norwegian and foreign artists and poets with his pioneering decorative art, Gerhard Munthe had few followers. His work was too idiosyncratic for such an outcome.”

Jan Kokkin’s book Gerhard Munthe: Norwegian Pioneer of Modernism will appeal to everyone interested in the 19th/20th century Arts and Crafts period in Northern Europe, from William Morris and the Pre-Raphaelites through Jugenstil to Art Nouveau.

Sally Reckert is an avid tapestry weaver who lives in Richmond, Yorkshire, England. She is a member of the British Tapestry Group and recent editor of its magazine, Tapestry Weaver

Lila Nelson and her Tapestry Barter System

By Robbie LaFleur

Lila Nelson was the Textile Curator at Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum for decades, a premier expert on Norwegian textiles. She was a beloved weaving instructor, a talented weaver, and a mentor and friend to many weavers. Her talents were matched only by her modesty. She was a prolific tapestry weaver, but completely uninterested in seeking gallery recognition, making money by selling her tapestries, or arranging exhibits to display them. Instead she rolled them up and stacked them inside a wooden couch-sized bench in her living room. I was knocked nearly speechless the first time she moved the cushions, opened the lid, and revealed the size of the treasure contained in the chest. So far I have found no one smart enough to have taken a photo of that bench.  

Lila showed her friend Paula Pfaff the bench and her tapestries. Fellow cat lover Paula was taken with a cat tapestry and the quote by Yeats that inspired it. Lila offered it to Paula in exchange for a new handwoven bedside rug. Paula recalled, “I was very very flattered that she wanted to trade and I definitely think I got the best part of the deal.” Paula framed the tapestry with an embroidered nod to the W.B. Yeats poem that inspired Lila’s work. The cat Minneloushe, “Alone, important and wise lifts to the moon his changing eyes.”

Lila Nelson. “Minneloushe.

When Mary Skoy asked Lila about buying a tapestry, Lila instead suggested that Mary knit her some mittens. Here are the elaborate mittens with a beautiful scalloped edge.

 

The tapestry Mary now cherishes is “A Red Letter Day.” It features a girl on a swing, an image Lila wove at least three times. Lila also enjoyed adding lettering and rune-like shapes to her tapestries.

Lila Nelson. “A Red Letter Day.”

Mary now has both ends of the barter. “After Lila died, someone gave these back to me, knowing that I would savor the memories.” Indeed, she does. 

We have a record of a good portion of Lila’s tapestry legacy due to her friend Francie Iverson, who enlisted her son Sam Iverson and his friend Sara Moe to visit Lila and photograph the tapestries in her apartment. In exchange, Lila gave a small tapestry to insect-loving Sara–another barter. 

insect tapestry

Lila Nelson. “Insect.”

Francie Iverson has a tapestry of New York City’s Central Park, with the city in the background. In exchange, Lila received a bowl made of fabric, with vintage embroidery in the center. 

Lila Nelson. “Central Park.”

Francie Iverson. “Fabric Bowl with Vintage Embroidery.”

When Lila began her protest series following the 9/11 bombings of New York City, I really wanted one of her “Terrorist Cat” tapestries. In exchange, she asked me to cater a reception for board members of the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum, to be held in her home. Of course, I responded. If she had called me any time and asked me to help with a reception, I would have done it happily–and now I would get a tapestry!

Lila Nelson. “Terrorist Cat.” 15″ h x 12″ w. circa 2012.

Perhaps the most elaborate barter was between Lila and Wendy Stevens from Decorah, Iowa, who now owns the magnificent “Albert the Alligator.” Wendy described “the deal” in detail in her eulogy at Lila’s memorial celebration at the Textile Center of Minnesota. (See: “Lila Nelson Celebration: Wendy Stevens.”) In short, here’s the list of items in exchange for Albert: 4 quarts of maple syrup, 1 pint of honey, 1 pint of raspberry sauce, 2 cups of granola, 1 cup of dried morels, 4 one-pound packages of frozen venison, 2 loaves of homemade bread, 1 packet of basil pesto, 3 containers of homemade cookies, 1 decorative gourd, 1 butternut squash, 3 onions, 2 pounds of carrots, and 10 potatoes. Albert looks like he could eat all that. 

Lila Nelson. “Albert the Alligator.”

So far, these are the only barters I’ve discovered, but given Lila’s modesty, perhaps there are more. If Lila’s other friends had known about this avenue of tapestry acquisition, I’m SURE there would have been many more. If you own a tapestry by Lila I might not know about, whether obtained by barter or otherwise, let me know. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Our Calendar”: A Very Personal Baldishol Interpretation

By Lisa Torvik 

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

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

Lisa’s panel: The Norwegian Links

Frida Hansen, “Løvetand,” 1893.

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

Lisa Torvik

The author at her wedding, wearing a beaded belt

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

Woven keyboard and mouse!

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

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

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

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

Neil’s panel: The Irish Connection

Triskele

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

The sweater is partially knitted.

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

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

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

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