By Robbie LaFleur

In 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. 

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.

“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”. 

 

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. 

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.

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. 

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

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. 

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 glory, will 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.

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