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Red is the Finest Color We Have: On Color in Coverlet Weaving in Setesdal around 1900

By Karin Bøe

This article is from my book Rugger og Brossar. Åkle i Setesdal (2012). My research was built on many fine conversations with older folks who grew up with traditional weaving, on examining registered coverlets, and written records. I registered 233 coverlets with diverse weaving techniques: square weave (smetting), plain weave with pick-and-pick, rosepath, krokbragd, and diamond twill. They were from Bykle, Valle, and Bygland in Setesdal. Most were in private hands, and some in museums and other collections.

A registered coverlet in smetting [rutevev or square weave]

An åkle [“OH kleh] is a woven coverlet that was used on a bed. It adorned a bed in the main room by day and was a warm covering at night. But in Setesdal they didn’t use the word åkle. Furthest north in Setesdal, in Bykle and Valle, they called it a rugge (plural=ruggar); further south, in Hylestad and Bygland, they used the term brosse

An old rugge with just three colors, in two-shaft, or plain weave.

Natural Dye Colors

I know of very few rugger dyed with natural dyes. The colors from natural dyes are somewhat less bright than those from chemical dyes, but it can be difficult to tell the difference.  Brown from stone lichen is, however, often used in coverlets, for darker and lighter brown. Colors such as pink, violet, and turquoise are typical chemical dyes. If you see a coverlet including any of them, it is likely that most of the other colors are chemically dyed too. 

Chemical Dye Colors

Chemical dyes were invented around the end of the 1800s. Violet came first and was discovered in the 1850s; blue came in the 1890s. At the beginning quality was poor, but it improved over time. Pink, violet and turquoise were new colors for Setesdal weavers, and they became popular. Mari Langerak wrote that lavender was very fashionable in weaving and embroidery in the 1920s, but after a few years people quit using it.   We often see these new chemical colors in the registered rugger

Many of the interviewees described purchasing powdered chemical dyes in small paper bags or metal boxes. Each packet included instructions for using the dye, so it was an easy process. 

But it was difficult to get the colors to hold. Birgit Byklum and Birgit Breive said that the home-dyed colors could easily bleed. Gyro T. Homme would not use white in a coverlet, for fear the other colors would run into it. She said that before the war there were some colors that were poor quality and would bleed, which of course was not good. Ingebjørg Bakken also thought it was difficult, but she did the best she could, adding salt to the dye to make it more colorfast. 

A rugge with 14 colors; many are faded.

In several of the coverlets you can see that the colors have bled into one another. That which perhaps was white is no longer white, instead taking on a light pink or gray cast. In some rugger there can be a definite gray cast over the whole piece. It could be that poor quality dyes were used, and the colors have bled into one another. 

Some colors were especially prone to bleeding. Ingebjørg Bakken thought blue and gold were especially unstable, which you can definitely see in old coverlets. Blue and colors that included blue, like violet and green, have often completely faded and can look almost white today. Red-violet or deep pink is another color that fades a great deal. It is not as easy to see whether gold has faded. 

When the colors are faded the coverlets can appear to have been woven in pastels, but when you look on the back side, or in between the threads, you can often see the original colors. Sometimes the colors can be so faded that it is very difficult to determine what the original colors might have been. For example, you can only see a nuance of blue or green.

Perhaps some colors were brighter when this was first woven?

A new rugge woven by Karin Bøe

It was difficult for a weaver to determine how much yarn of each color would be needed for a rugge. Ingebjørg Bakken said that you could talk with someone who had woven the pattern before, and ask how many spools should be dyed in each color. When you spin yarn the thread goes onto a spool. When the spool is full, you have to stop and wind the yarn off into a skein before you can spin further. Therefore, spools could serve as a measure for how much yarn you have spun or that you need to spin for your weaving. 

Combining Colors

Jorunn Holum said, “I associate Valle-colors with those that are clear, fine, and bright,” Many of the interviewees said they like strong colors. And some said that they like duskier or matte colors better, but colors were stronger in the past.

If you have tried weaving, you know how difficult it is to put colors together. You can lay out the yarn in a variety of colors on the table and see what looks good. But when you weave the colors together it can become altogether different and not so great after all. To fix it means you must weave it again, so it’s best to get it right from the start. This was a problem the interviewees knew well. They say putting colors together is an art. If you don’t do it well, it can “destroy” the weaving. 

Gyro T. Homme said, “Putting colors together is of great importance.” Gyro Longerak said that “the greatest art is putting colors together, the right colors, colors that work well with one another.”  Tone Stavenes said, “It gives you a headache when you put colors together. It’s so awful.”  Jorånd Bø also said it was difficult “until you find the colors you want. But once you solved that, it went well.” And Ingebjørg A. Uppstad said, “They put together colors little by little  in  coverlets.”

Rugge with a bright gold stripe

So there’s a difference, depending on whether weavers are clever with color or not. When Anne Myrum examined several weavings she said, “They work well all together. It is as if it is all one border. They have the same color tones throughout. There isn’t anything that sticks out.” She also said that “the color tones follow through the whole way.” She showed one coverlet she wove and said, “See, here I put in one gold (zigzag) stripe at the end. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’ve been irritated by that gold stripe my whole life!” The gold stripe near the end stuck out clearly from the rest of the coverlet.

Gyro T. Homme looked at a coverlet with plant-dyed yarn and commented, “I think these colors don’t show up enough, the two dark ones (green and brown). It appears as it’s all one whole. I would have liked more striking colors mixed in. Look here, these are too similar (gold and green).” 

She meant the colors must differ enough from one another so they are properly visible. If the colors aren’t easily seen, there’s no point in putting so much work into your weaving. Another couple of weavers also said that the colors can’t be too similar. It’s a balancing act. The colors must be clearly differentiated, and at the same time they mustn’t stand out too much. They must be clear and evenly distributed so there is a sense of unity in the weaving. 

An old rugge in rosepath

Some say that in the past weavers used the colors they had. And some say you can use the colors you want–just that they work together. But is it so easy? A Valle-kone (a woman from Valle in Setesdal) told about how she was once teaching a “city-woman” to do løyesaum (an embroidery technique with wool, mostly used on Setesdal national costumes).  She told the “city-woman” she could pick whatever colors she wanted, and the “city-woman” chose green tones. That was a problem for the instructor from Valle, because in løyesaum it is the red colors that are central. For the Valle-kone the red color was a given, but clearly that was not the case with the “city-woman.”  

I believe that in a small area with local traditions, local color preferences will develop. When people grow up and see the colors around them, they learn that’s the way it should be and they come to love those colors. I don’t think they are conscious of it at all. Of course there can be differences in taste, but it is within a certain unwritten and unconscious framework. When some people said they used the colors they had, I don’t think it was a fluke. They had those colors because it was the ones they liked and it that was the way it should be.  But there was something to be said for using what colors were available. During and after World War I, for example, it was difficult to obtain embroidery yarn in their preferred colors. Then they might have had to use pink instead of red, or blue instead of green.

Colors in the Registered Rugs

The colors in rugger are preferably clear and sharp. The base color is most often black and the main color red. There is some green and blue. Using a little gold and a little white brightens it up, according to Gyro T. Homme. Approximately a third of the coverlets have some orange, pink, dark red, and/or violet. Gray, brown and mossy-brown were sometimes used.

“Red and green belong together, and gold and blue belong together,” said Gyro T. Homme. Especially red and green were often used together in rugger, but also a similar amount of red and blue. Yellow and blue or violet were used sometimes. These are complementary colors, but also have a warm-cold contrast. Contrast between light and dark was also used, for example orange, pink, white, or gold together with red, blue, dark red or black. Closely-related colors and shades of the warm colors were also often used, but not the cold colors. We often see the warm colors–red, orange, pink and dark red–used together. Green and blue together was were not so commonly used in Bykle and Valle, but somewhat more common in Bygland.  

Colors in Løyesaum Embroidery

Now we will describe a bit about the colors in løyesaum embroidery on Setesdal national costumes, to compare them to coverlets. It was, of course, the same women who both wove and embroidered. Mari Langerak wrote about the typical medley of colors in løyesaum: mostly red, some blue and green and a little gold. There is also a little burgundy, a little white, and occasionally black. Red can be used every other time. Langerak wrote about the rhythm in the embroidery. Red characterizes the rhythm and it is red they begin with when they embroider.  In løyesaum the colors on the scroll designs are very often two red, one green, two red, one blue, and so on.  

Scrolls in embroidered løyesaum on a national costume

The authors of Rette Klede i Setesdal (Correct Clothing in Setesdal)  wrote that the colors in løyesaum can should be sharp, with clear separation. Let’s look at several examples they wrote about. The scroll designs can be red, green, and blue. If you wanted more colors, you could trade out some of the red with pink or dark red. On flekkjesaum (“braided” satin stitch covering an area) it was written that the main color is red with green and blue in between. They believed that you shouldn’t have too many red colors close together or it would appear like a single red surface. “Ton i ton” (shades of the same color) don’t belong in Setesdalsaum (Setesdal embroidery). And when it came to trousers and vests for men, the rule was to use twice as much red as other colors. 

Flekkesaum embroidery on a national costume

A vest for a man embroidered in løyesaum

Other colors that were used a bit were orange, violet and lavender, Langerak wrote. While she wrote violet and lavender, she perhaps meant violet and pink? She wrote that in the 1920s it was so fashionable to use “lilla”, or lavender, in weaving and løyesaum. But after a while people tired of the color. One Valle-kone said that she couldn’t tolerate those colors: “They don’t belong in our embroidery.”

In Rette Klede i Setesdal, they wrote that pink was used a great deal around the First World War. The reason was that when people bought yarn they bought an equal amount of each color. They used red yarn the most and then they weren’t able to get more during and after the war. So they used pink instead of red, and later became so tired of it they stopped using it altogether. 

Langerak also described the oldest yarn they used for embroidery. It was called dyffelgarn and it came from Germany, as did løye yarn. But dyffelgarn had duskier, paler colors than løye. Red, blue, gold, green and black were used to embroider kinnplagg (baby shawls) and baptism caps. Many thought the old embroidery was finer and more beautiful, Langerak wrote. 

We have seen that the use of color in løyesaum and rugger is very similar. The colors are clear and sharp and are clearly defined. Red is most frequently used, with a good bit of green and blue in between. Then there is a little gold and white. In addition there is some pink and dark red in embroidery and weaving. Orange, violet and blue-green, or turquoise, were often used in rugger, but less frequently in embroidery. A bit of black was also used in embroidery. 

There can also appear to be more variation in the color tones in rugger than in løyesaum, for example green-gold, green-blue, blue-green, blue-violet, or gold gold-orange and orange-gold. That could be because the yarn for løyesaum came already dyed from the factory, while weaving yarn was spun and dyed by the weavers.

The base color in rugger is usually black. The base color in løyesaum can also be black, but also green. 

In Conclusion

The art is in putting together colors in the right way. The colors should be distributed across the whole weaving for a unified look; none should stick out. Red colors were used a lot with some green and blue, a little gold and white, all on a black ground. The colors were put together in such a way as to make each color clearly delineated. To do that, weavers used contrast such as complementary colors, light/dark colors, and warm/cold colors. The use of these contrasts against a black ground gave a colorful and exuberant expression to the rugger in Setesdal, at any rate around 1900. 

A newly-woven rugge

It’s exciting to work with these weavings and figure out how they would have appeared when they were new. Many surprises and color combinations turned up, ones I wouldn’t have thought of myself, or dared to try. That’s why it is important to conduct this research and display the results. The talented weavers of Setesdal deserve no less. 

Karin Bøe moved to Valle in Setesdal in 1995 as a craft instructor. She began to study weaving traditions in the Setesdal region by examining coverlets and interviewing older weavers. In 1996 she began her business, Valle Vev, creating traditional weavings. She has a certificate in handwaving and a masters in traditional folk art. In 2012 she published her book, Rugger og Brossar. Åkle i Setesdal (Rugger og Brossar: Coverlets in Setesdal).

Photo from Karin Bø’s Valle Vev Facebook page

Translated by Robbie LaFleur and Lisa Torvik

Would you like to purchase Karin Bøe’s book Rugger og Brossar. Åkle i Setesdal (2012) (Rugger and Brossar Coverlets in Setesdal)? It is written in Norwegian with an English synopsis at the end. Contact Ken Koop in the Gift Shop at Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. The museum is currently out of stock, but more are on order. 

Nordic Notes: Articles, Exhibits, and News

Beginning with this issue, the Norwegian Textile Letter will include a regular column to alert readers to recommended online Scandinavian textile information. I often hear of interesting articles online, and this will be a venue to share. Several times each year I learn of Scandinavian textiles in gallery or museum exhibits. This “catch-all” Nordic News column will include websites, blogs, conferences, or projects. Let me know if you have items to share! 

Articles

The Journal of Dress History is the academic publication of The Association of Dress Historians. This very readable historical article from 2018 chronicles the development of bunads (regional national costumes), and their relationship to traditional peasant dress. See: Solveig Strand. “The Norwegian Bunad: Peasant Dress, Embroidered Costume, and National Symbol.” The Journal of Dress History, Volume 2, Issue 3, Autumn 2018, pp. 100-121. (The link is to the whole issue; scroll to page 100 for the article.)

 

Claudio Cocco traveled all the way from Arizona to study drawloom weaving with Anne Nygård at her Damaskvev studio in Bjorn, Norway. Read about Claudia’s travel and textile adventure in her extensive blog post, Damask Adventure – Weaving at the 66th Parallel. You can follow Claudia’s further weaving adventures on her blog, Vairarenbeth’s Blog, and on Instagram, where she posts under the name #teacatweaver.

Exhibits

Ann-Mari Forsberg (Sweden, 1916–1992) for Märta Måås-Fjetterström, Red Crocus hanging, 1945. Cooper Hewitt Design Museum

A trip to Milwaukee this summer is in order, to visit a major exhibit, Scandinavian Design and the U.S., 1890-1980 at the Milwaukee Art Museum, from May 15–September 7, 2020.  There are a substantial number of textiles included, 32 of the total of 180. From the overview: 

Scandinavian Design and the United States, 1890–1980, will be the first major international loan exhibition to examine the extensive design exchanges between the United States and the Nordic countries (Denmark, Finland, Iceland, Norway, and Sweden) during the twentieth century. The exhibition will examine how both Nordic ideas about modern design and the objects themselves had an indelible impact on American culture and material life, as well as demonstrate America’s influence on Scandinavian design.

Read more.

Envelope from Sweden,” 1992″

MIA (the Minneapolis Institute of Arts)  recently opened Cloth Paper Scissors: Helena Hernmarck Weaves the Everyday, February 15-October 18, 2020. (Note: Hernmarck will deliver a lecture in connection with the exhibition, date TBD, in July or after.)

What sparks the artist’s imagination? Helena Hernmarck often finds inspiration in the stuff of everyday life: a letter, admission tickets, paper money, even dry cleaner tags. She contemplates these humble items, scales them up, and weaves them into large tapestries that display her virtuosic skills in photorealism. Showcased in this installation are four of Hernmarck’s “paper illusion” textiles in Mia’s permanent collection alongside works of art and archival materials from the artist’s private collection.

The Swedish American Museum in Chicago, Illinois, is holding an exhibit from March 7-June 7, 2020, Double-Weave in Sweden: New Materials and Applications

Double-weave is a special weaving technique that creates textiles with two layers…This exhibit is put together by nine weavers from Sweden. Their aim is to preserve this cultural heritage and teach people about its history and techniques. The weavers hope that by finding new uses, materials, and applications for double-weave, they will increase awareness around this weaving form and renew interest in the craft.

Designs from the Oleana company near Bergen, Norway, are featured in the Galleri at Norway House in Minneapolis, Minnesota, from February 14-May 10, 2020. 

News

In Minnesota, the Scandinavian Weavers Study Group is embarking on a group project. 18 members will weave pillow tops in rosepath, inspired by Anna Östlund’s book, Från Januari blues till December röd: 18 kuddar i rosengång (From January Blues to December Reds: 18 pillows in rosepath). Watch for updates about the project on the Scandinavian Weavers blog, at scandinavianweaversmn.com

 

 

 

 

Bedding before 1900 in Nordfjord

By Ingrid Berger

You probably know what a coverlet, a rya or a blanket is [an åkle, napparye, or kvetel], but did you know that in earlier times these were bedding? Beds used to be in the room where guests were greeted and where people ate and worked.  The bed, at least the visible part of the bed, was there for all to see.

Many layers

The Princess and the Pea lay on a bed with 20 down duvets and 20 mattresses.  Without stretching the comparison further, the beds of Nordfjorders also had many layers at one time. The layers were not down duvets and mattresses, but various types of woven coverings.  Topmost in a prepared bed in Nordfjord was a coverlet or a rya [a blanket with pile]. If it was a rya, then the pile side was facing downward.  Beneath this layer was a wool blanket called “nearest blanket” [nemmaste kvetelen, or kvitelen]. The nearest blanket was soft and fine.  Under this blanket lay the “under blanket” [ondekvetel], and it was between these two layers that people slept. The under blanket was a thin wool blanket.  Beneath this layer lay a “straw blanket” [halmkvetel] over the straw, because it was upon straw that one ultimately laid. The straw blanket was heavy and stiff, perhaps a blanket that had become felted in the wash or an old and worn rya.  It was with these layers of wool that the beds in Nordfjord were most often prepared, in any case on the farms in the countryside, and from long ago until the 1900s.

A “kvetel” [blanket] is the word that is most often used in Nordfjord in describing a wool blanket for the bed.  In the Nynorsk dictionary the word “kvitel” is used. Such a blanket is less decorative than a rya or coverlet, with stripes or checks as part of the fabric. The blanket is often called “sheep-white” with stripes in “sheep-brown” or “sheep-black,” an indication that people used the natural wool colors they had. NFM.0000-03769 Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Nordfjord Folk Museum

Bed covers, including coverlets, ryas and blankets, were commonly woven in the home during wintertime.  In this photo one sees the beginning of a blanket that is being woven on a loom. A blanket is often sewn together in the middle from two lengths because most looms were not wide enough. This loom is standing just beside a bed made up with a similar blanket. The bed and loom are part of the interior in “Moritsstova” from farm nr. 012 Rygg in Gloppen municipality, now at Nordfjord Folk Museum. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

Coverlet – the top layer

In times past, the bed, and the uppermost layer of the bed, were much more visible than is common today. It is not surprising that a good deal of effort was devoted to making the bed look nice.  The coverlet, whose most important role was as a bed cover, was most often topmost on the bed.  But through changing times and changing needs, the coverlet has been used as a wall hanging, a table cloth, a rug, a sled or carriage blanket, a christening blanket and a drape for a coffin. As a coverlet became more and more worn, it could see such uses as a horse blanket or a covering for potatoes. A coverlet was made only if one was finished with all the weaving that was necessary for a year, and as such, a coverlet was an extra flourish, an indication of abundance and prosperity.  A beautiful coverlet was also an indication of skill.  But it wasn’t everyone who had the opportunity to weave, and thus weaving could become a trade for those who wove on commission or for sale. A coverlet was quite valuable, being equal to two to four cows.

A bed made up as it could have looked in the 1800s and earlier. We have turned some of the blankets to one side to show the “layers” in the bed. When the bed was made up, the topmost layer covered the layers underneath. In this bed, a rya is topmost. The photograph is from a bed in “Moritsstova” from farm nr. 012 Rygg in the Gloppen municipality, now at Nordfjord Museum. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Nordfjord Folk Museum

Types of coverlets

There are many names for the various types of coverlets, depending on whether you consider the technique, how it looks, its use or its pattern.  We can simplify things by distinguishing between striped coverlets and square [geometric-patterned] coverlets when thinking of pattern. A striped coverlet has stripes or patterns in stripes crosswise over the entire surface.  A square coverlet has patterns built from geometric arrangements of squares.  Coverlets have “wandered” in the sense that they have been purchased or brought in from other regions.  But there are also, especially in the inner areas, typical coverlets for the different regions.  In outer areas there are many different coverlets, because coastal people had more contact up and down the coast.  In Nordfjord there are both striped and square coverlets.  Striped patterns could be in krokbragd, rosepath or pick and pick techniques, with single-colored fields between. It seems that a striped coverlet with black fields separating rosepath pattern stripes was typical for Nordfjord.

Square, or geometric patterned coverlet. Different cross forms were common in a coverlet.  This coverlet has been in use on farm nr. 078, Hunskår in Gloppen municipality. NFM.1979-04085. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

Striped coverlet.  The coverlet is sewn together from two lengths. It is woven in the krokbragd technique.  Pattern stripes in various colors with dark single-colored stripes between is typical for Nordfjord. NFM.000-03779. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

Rya

Lying beneath a coverlet, or sometimes instead of a coverlet, would often be a rya.  A rya is a woven blanket, mostly of wool.  The pile is composed of wool yarn or rags that are knotted around the warp threads such that there is a pile layer on one side of the rya.  The other side is smooth, most commonly with stripes.  Ryas were used instead of, or as the successor to, a sheepskin covering.  A rya was easier to clean and handle than a sheepskin, but just as nice and warm.  Marie Ryssdal remembers from her childhood in Davik that the rya was a heavy textile. A rya easily lived its own life atop the bed, she remembers, and youngsters had a great time getting the rya to end up on the floor. Typical for Nordfjord were ryas with a pile made of rags.  A rya made with a pile of rags is, as one might say, “recycling your grandmother.” The rags show how every single piece of fabric was put to use.  Nothing that could be used for something else was thrown away.  But the rags in a rya didn’t only come from the household. It is likely that rags for the pile of a rya were also bought in Bergen; on returning from an excursion to the city, men could return home with sacks filled with rags purchased from a tailor.

A rya seen from the “pile side.”  Various pieces of fabric are knotted in during weaving to give a pile effect.  Ryas with a pile made of a rags, or fabric scraps, are typical for Nordfjord.  For finer use, the pile was made from plied wool yarn; for everyday use it was a rag rya, writes Maria Ryssdal in “Soga om Gloppen og Breim.” NFM.0000-02184. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

A rya seen from the side without pile.  This side lay facing upward on the bed for everyone to see. The pile side was facing down. NFM.1987-00266. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

From bedcovers “on display” to duvets in private bedrooms

We don’t know how old this manner of preparing a bed is, but it remained for a long time in the countryside, at any rate on the farms. Around 1900 things began to change.  First the rya was enclosed inside a cover, later the bed cover was made of quilted cotton-batting, and finally the bed cover became a duvet filled with down.  Changes also occurred in the way people planned and used their homes.  As the 1900s progressed, houses were built with more rooms, and especially bedrooms became typical over time. The bedroom was a private area and not a place for visitors.  Bed covers went from being “on display” to being more secluded and private.

This is how a bed cover could be hung for storage if it was not in use.  People tried to have such a “reserve,” an indication of prosperity. It was also good to have extra bedding, for example for a large gathering when one made up beds for many people. The photograph is from a new building from the farm Ravnestad, farm nr. 013 in Gloppen municipality, now at Nordfjord Folk Museum. Owner: Nordfjord Folk Museum – 2007 – Photograph by Nordfjord Folk Museum

This article originally appeared in the Kulturhistorisk Leksikon published by the Fylkesarkivet i Sogn og Fjordane, and is reprinted in translation by permission.

Translation by Katherine Larson. 

 

What is Norwegian Weaving? (In a Nutshell)

By Robbie LaFleur

Are you an admirer of fine folk art craftsmanship?

Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum recently published the third in a series of beautifully-illustrated pamphlets on major types of folk art in their collection: rosemaling, woodcarving, and weaving. They serve as primers for first-time visitors, and show knowledgeable craftspeople the depth and beauty of artifacts owned by the museum. They are also valuable resources for Folk Art School students. 

What is Rosemaling?

After noted rosemaler Marlys Hammer died, several of her friends donated funds for Vesterheim to create a booklet about Norwegian rose painting. It focuses on describing and distinguishing between regional rosemaling styles. Photos of artifacts from the Vesterheim collection illustrate the text by Judy Ritger and Patty Goke. 

With the success of this booklet, the Museum obtained grant funding for two more booklets.

 What is Norwegian Woodcarving?

Woodcarver Phil Odden describes traditional techniques you might recognize–like wood burning, chip carving, and acanthus carving–and some you might not know, like kolrosing (a delicate incising technique) and kroting (carving into dark-painted wood). The booklet focuses on carved decorative techniques, and the illustrations show some different forms created with woodworking (such as bentwood and stave containers).

What is Norwegian Weaving?

I was asked to write the weaving booklet, which was a privilege–and a challenge. Hmmm….distill all of Norwegian weaving into several paragraphs in a 10-page booklet. I worked with Curator Laurann Gilbertson, who suggested we focus on coverlet techniques, partly because those techniques are taught in weaving classes at Vesterheim. We brainstormed about which Vesterheim-owned weavings would best represent the several techniques chosen.

Once I was over the hump of “oh my gosh, how will this ever come together,” the entire process went more smoothly than I anticipated. It couldn’t have happened–none of these booklets could have happened–without the expertise and editing of Laurann Gilbertson, and Charlie Langton’s beautiful layouts. Thanks also to Lea Lovelace, head of Vesterheim’s Folk Art School, for her editing; she brought clarity to the text by reading with a non-weaver’s eye.

Print copies of the booklet will be available at the museum. If you would like to print it out, here is a pdf: “What is Norwegian Weaving?,”

We hope to see you at a Vesterheim Folk Art School class soon! 

The Use of Flour and Sugar Sacks in Clothing, Bedding, and More

By Gunnhild Systad 

Beginning in the 1880s, large flour mills began using big cotton and gunnysacks—usually 100 kg but also 200 kg sacks–to deliver flour to merchants.  A bit later, through the turn of the century, flour and sugar were also distributed in 5 kg. sacks, probably directly to the consumer.  This packaging was a desirable commodity.

From the First World War on, thousands of blouses, dresses, pants, and bed linens were sewn from sacks, as were also embroidered towels, curtains, and doorway curtains (aka portieres).  Around the time of World War II, shortages of raw materials led mills to begin using paper sacks, but, nevertheless, some mills still had cloth sacks in stock.  In any case, it was possible to get ahold of sacks several years into the 1950s.  Because of rationing, it was difficult to acquire yard goods at this time, so the use of cloth sacks was a good substitute.

The sacks’ fabrics were usually as follows:

  • Grain sacks–jute or tow linen
  • Flour sacks—cotton
  • Sugar sacks—cotton, lighter than that in flour sacks

Jute and tow linen sacks were, for example, used for:

  • Aprons for heavy cleaning and to wear in the barn
  • Towels.  These were washed in green soap and boiled to make them softer.  The user dried their hands on these first, then on cotton or linen towels.
  • Scrub rags
  • Doormats
  • Mattress ticking, for example on a straw mattress for a cradle
  • Curtains and portieres, popular in the 1920s, decorated with either embroidery or drawn work

An apron made of a jute sugar sack, from the Nordfjord Folk Museum. The stamp is on the back.  NFM.1993-00138

Cotton sacks for sugar were, for example, used for:

  • Nightgowns and nightshirts
  • Pillowcases
  • Cloths
  • Cloth sieves to filter juice

This sugar sack from the Nordfjord Folk Museum was likely used as a pillow covering. NFM.1993-00310

Cotton flour sacks varied in quality, which determined how they were used:

  • Sheets.  Usually sewn together at the middle.  The side pieces were replaced when they became worn.  Coarser cotton cloth could be used for sheets, rather than for duvets and pillowcases.
  • Undergarments and nightgowns, which required finer quality fabric
  • Clothing:  Children’s garments, blouses, summer dresses, all requiring finer quality fabric
  • Towels
  • Kitchen textiles
  • Tablecloths
  • Portieres

The back of this woman’s undershirt, which has an amazing amount of piecing and mending, was made from used flour sacks. It is owned by the Nordfjord Folkemuseum. NFM.1993-00547

Printed Labels

The sacks often had printed labels, and it was joked that when ladies’ underpants were hanging on the clothesline to dry, a person could see Bjølsen Rolling Mill stamped in the back.  The stamped label could be removed by rubbing in green soap and allowing it time to work before scrubbing it away.  Afterwards, the sacks were washed and bleached, preferably in March sunshine.   The sacks were not to be washed first, for then the stamped labels were impossible to remove.   It seems as though less caution was taken to remove stamping from sacks that were going to be used as linings in clothing, because one can still read the visible label.

An alternative to using sacks was to purchase heavy cotton or cotton/linen fabric, or unbleached canvas, but that was, of course, more expensive.  During the 1930s, a sack cost between 50 øre and one krone and was much cheaper than yard goods.

This dress, from a cottage in Finnskog, was sewn from American sugar sacks. It is owned by the Anno Kvinnemuseet (Anno Womens Museum). KMR.01630 

In Museums

Museums have in their collections bedding, women’s and children’s clothing, towels, tablecloths, and other items made out of sacks.  Fewest of these are made of jute and linen-tow, no doubt because they were put to heavy use, with the result that they were worn out and thrown away.

Sources

Clayhills, Harriet: Det store lappeteppet. Også ei kvinnehistorie. Oslo 1984
Jensen, Inger: Bruk av melsekker Dugnad 2 Oslo 1991

 

This article originally appeared in the Kulturhistorisk Leksikon published by the Fylkesarkivet i Sogn og Fjordane and is reprinted in translation by permission. Norwegian version here. Additional photos were sourced from the Norwegian Digital Museum, digitaltmuseum.no

Translation by Edi Thorstensson. 

 

Seminar registration

A Coronavirus Weaving Casualty

The Seminar That Could Have Been–Nordic Threads: Celebrating the History of Scandinavian Weaving

In connection with the exhibit “The Baldishol: A Medieval Norwegian Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textilesat Norway House, textile enthusiasts are invited to a day-long seminar on Scandinavian weaving on June 27, 2020. Normally, you would have to visit four countries to hear our distinguished speakers from Norway, Sweden, Denmark and Finland!

WHEN:  June 27, 2020, 8:30-4:30
WHERE:  American Swedish Institute, 2600 Park Avenue South, Minneapolis, MN  55407
COST: $110, which includes lunch (with gluten-free and vegan options), two breaks, and admission to the American Swedish Institute collections.
HOW TO REGISTER: Click on the registration form, here

SPONSORS:  Norway House, American Swedish Institute, the Norwegian Textile Letter, the Scandinavian Weavers Study Group, and generous donors. 

PROGRAM

8:30-9. Registration
9-9:30. Greetings 
9:30-10:30.   Keynote: Randi Nyberg Lium, Norway. “Remarks on the Baldishol Tapestry and the History of Norwegian Weaving”
10:30-11. Break
11-12. Tove Engelhardt Mathiassen, Denmark.  “Pioneers in Danish Handweaving”
12-1:15. Lunch and museum viewing 
1:15-2:15. Annelie Holmberg, Sweden. “On Weaving Education in Sweden at Sätergläntan (Institutet för slöjd och hantverk) and Handarbetets Vänner”
2:15-3:15. Aino Kajaniemi, Finland. “The History of Tapestry Weaving in Finland”
3:15-3:45 Break 
3:45-4:30 Discussion panel with the guest speakers and THANK YOUS. 

Sign up soon! We anticipate that the limit of 70 attendees will fill quickly. 

SPEAKERS

Randi Nyberg Lium, Norway. “Remarks on the Baldishol Tapestry and the History of Norwegian Weaving”

Randi Nygaard Lium received her education in weaving at Det Jyske Kunstakademi in Denmark from 1977-83, with graduate studies in art history at Aarhus University. In 1986 she moved to her homeland, Norway. She has exhibited her work numerous times since her debut at the Påskeutstillingen (Easter Exhibit) in Aarhus in 1983, including a solo show at Denmark’s Design Museum in 2006. In addition to her artistic career, she has worked as a museum curator, and was the director of the Trondheim Kunstmuseum from 1998-2011. She has published two books: Ny Norsk Norwegian Tapestry (New Norwegian Tapestry, 1992) and Tekstilkunst i Norge (Textile Art in Norway, 2016).

Tove Engelhardt Mathiassen, Denmark.  “Pioneers in Danish Handweaving”

Trained as a weaving teacher (1982), Tove Engelhardt Mathaissen started working with the textile collection at Den Gamle By, the National Open air Museum of Urban History, in Aarhus, Denmark, in 1984. From 1992-1998 she taught cultural history of dress and textiles at a teacher’s college while studying ethnography and social anthropology (graduated 1994). In 1997, she was appointed keeper and curator in Den Gamle By. She has published books and articles about the cultural history of dress and textiles, and is the leader of www.textilnet.dk, a collaborative Danish digital dictionary and database of historical textile and costume terminology. 

Annelie Holmberg, Sweden. “On Weaving Education in Sweden at Sätergläntan (Institutet för slöjd och hantverk) and Handarbetets Vänner”

Annelie Holmberg is a senior lecturer in Textile Studies at Uppsala University in Sweden, teaching courses in textile history, in weaving, and supervising student theses. Her research focuses on textile practical knowledge, the learning and the craft process. Due to her background both as a craftsman in weaving and a craft teacher in elementary school, the research has a divided focus in craft for both professional adults and children. 

Aino Kajaniemi, Finland. “The History of Tapestry Weaving in Finland”

AinoAino Kajaniemi studied at the University of Art and Design in Helsinki and received her degree as a textile artist in 1983.  She has had 40 solo exhibitions and participated in exhibitions in 30 countries. She was selected Textile Artist of the Year in Finland in 2010 and received five-year stipends from the Finnish government in 2011 and 2016. 

 

 

 

Kristen Anderson: Emerging Spring

The Baldishol: A Medieval Norwegian Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles
Artist Interview:  Kristen Anderson, 12/10/19.

Norwegian Pelsull Wool blend, wet-felted to create a felt tapestry. 40" x 70"

Norwegian Pelsull Wool blend, wet-felted to create a felt tapestry. 40″ x 70″

1. What is your artistic background?

I was an art and biology double major at St. Olaf College. After college, I got my teaching license and taught for many years while painting in watercolor. In 1997, I inherited a spinning wheel from my Norwegian grandfather and my fiber arts journey began. I learned to spin and attended a spinning rendezvous, where I took a felting class and was hooked!  I spent the next decade felting– learning from books and videos. Eventually, I set up a mentorship with felt instructor, Mary Reichert, of Otlak Felt Studio in northern Minnesota. Her instruction gave me the technical skills I needed to create the bodies of work that I’d been imagining. Most recently, I just wrapped up a touring solo show of 11 felt tapestries called “Overstories” which focused on the forestry science of tree communication. 

2. What is your creative process?

I have always loved the biological sciences and that’s where my creative process often begins–with stories of ecological wonder that I want to know more about. Curiosity leads to reading, TED talks, discussions with experts in the field, and whatever I can access to gain a better understanding of my subject. In a sense, it’s like going back to school. The information leads to imagery which I manipulate into design. This process allows me to live with and explore my ideas in depth as I add meaning to the visual story. I also enjoy balancing the qualities of felt and the technical aspects of feltmaking with the imagery in my pieces. 

“Emerging Spring,” Before felting, it was approximately the same size as the original Baldishol fragment.

3. Were you familiar with the Baldishol before this exhibit?

I was not familiar with the Baldishol tapestry before the exhibit. Coincidentally, when the exhibit call was announced, I was intensely studying the tapestries of Norwegian weaver Hannah Ryggen. Her work is a great inspiration to me. 

4. What draws you to the original Baldishol tapestry? 

The Baldishol Tapestry

How can you not love a story about a treasure that was so unknown that it was used as a doormat until it finally found its place in fiber art history!!? It’s fun for me to work within the parameters of a creative challenge and the Baldishol contains many inspirational elements, from its vibrant colors to its intriguing characters and designs. The working Baldishol theories I’ve explored about the missing parts and meanings of the tapestry leave an interesting space for injecting artistic story in the responsive piece.

5. How will your piece reinterpret the original?

My interpretation began with the idea of an emerging spring, as the Baldishol appears to represent. I highlight the findings of climate scientists who predict increased extreme weather conditions and species who will relocate to cooler climates (the iconic Minnesota loons, trout, and walleye). Like the Baldishol, I have 2 figures represented in their respective panels. One figure is a person in despair, walking away from the responsibility of facing our climate challenges. The second figure represents hope and action as they plant a tree–a symbol of a hopeful future. While the loon and fish are fleeing, yellow canaries (the “canaries in the coal mine”) are moving forward in warning. Hands, which blanket the earth like leaves, represent the human-created aspect of climate change. Along the base of the work, there are acorns–another piece of hope from the natural world. They represent the seeds which are adapting and evolving with each year–possibly our greatest helpers in this changing world. Finally, when laying out the wool for this piece, I did so in the dimensions of the Baldishol tapestry. When felted, my piece shrunk to its current dimension. It felt like an interesting way to show how felt changes in size during the wet-felting process.

“Emerging”–detail. “Hands, which blanket the earth like leaves, represent the human-created aspect of climate change.”

6. How will your piece challenge your technical and artistic skills?

This was my most intricate felt piece to date. I incorporated the figure into work, which I have done very little of in the past. There was a great deal of planning involved around the many pre-felts I created (the felt pieces I made and cut designs from). There were more than a few times when I was dissatisfied with my design and began again. When felting, there’s often design movement during the process so I had to be extra careful to check and recheck the work early-on in the initial fusing stage. The hands, especially, created a unique challenge in that department! Overall, I had to slow down my process and be extra meticulous throughout the felting.

7. What do you wish we knew about the original tapestry and its makers?

Since it is theorized that the Baldishol could be a piece of a much larger tapestry depicting the calendar year, I wish I could go back in time to see the rest of it. I’d also like to know why soldiers were featured, as well as the meanings and origins of some of the symbols and colors. Of course, it would be wonderful to know who the makers were—from the sheep herders to the dyers, designers, and weavers. Was the commission from the church? A wealthy landowner? A king?

Kristen Anderson, www.cardamomstudio.org

 

Weaving and Fiber Classes at Vesterheim Folk Art School

By Robbie LaFleur

Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum in Decorah, Iowa, has offered weaving classes since Lila Nelson, former Curator of Textiles, taught her first class in 1970.  Appropriately, the weaving studio is named after Lila. That means that  2020 marks the 50th anniversary of Norwegian weaving education at the Museum and Folk Art School. 

In addition to American teachers steeped in Norwegian techniques, instructors from Norway are on the roster nearly every year. The first Norwegian instructor in 1978 was Elsa Eikås Bjerck, and the most recent instructor was Marta Kløve Juuhl in 2018. Marta’s 2013 classes in warp-weighted loom weaving were so popular that she returned in 2018 to teach another set of students. Marta is likely responsible for the building of many warp-weighted looms since her classes.  In particular, Melba Granlund from Minneapolis, Minnesota, has become very proficient and is teaching warp-weighted loom classes at the Weavers Guild of Minnesota and the American Swedish Institute. Vesterheim Folk Art School has been deeply influential in building a strong base of Scandinavian weaving expertise and interest among American weavers. 

Elsa Eikås Bjerck was the first Norwegian instructor to teach weaving at Vesterheim. This piece replicates an early bed pillow from Jølster in Sogn, Norway, in plant-dyed wool on linen. The mittens were done in nålbinding, an ancient looping technique. Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum

Vesterheim Folk Art School typically offers eight or nine weaving classes each year. Many students return for classes frequently. Besides excellent instructors, students appreciate the museum collection; it’s a special perk to view many historical artifacts woven in the technique you are studying.

This is one of my favorite tapestries from the Vesterheim collection that I show to my Billedvev students. Photo: Robbie LaFleur

Students are asked on their evaluation sheets, “What brought you to Vesterheim and what keeps you coming back?“ Many people write a variant of this comment: “the beauty of the museum collections, the buildings, and lovely Decorah.” Decorah is a friendly, walkable town with great restaurants, surrounded by beautiful walking and biking trails. 

Weaving is core to the Folk Art School, but other fiber class offerings have been growing. One Norwegian instructor for 2020, Kristi Nilsen, will be teaching a knitting class. 

The Nordic Knitting Weekend actually consists of two separate tracks of four classes each.  Class offerings that weekend include Introduction to Sámi Knitting, Norwegian Hat, Singlade Balls, Faroese Footlets, Introduction to Norwegian Knitting, and Boat’s Bow—A Sámi Mitten. 

Class enrollment for 2020 begins on December 9; visit vesterheim.org for class details, and sign up early! 

Further reading on Vesterheim classes:  

Granlund, Melba. “Warp-Weighted Loom Classes at Vesterheim, July 2013.” Norwegian Textile Letter, November 2013. 

Granlund, Melba. “Warped (or Wrapped?) in Time.” Norwegian Textile Letter, August 2018. 

LaFleur, Robbie. “Marta and the Potato Analogy,” robbielafleur.com, August 24, 2013.

LaFleur, Robbie. “Traditional Icelandic Rya Knots: A Contemporary Adaptation.” robbielafleur.com, August 20, 2013.

 

En Reiseskildring fra Vevsymposium i Tromsø

.Av Hilde Opedal Nordby, håndvever og vevlærer

1. – 3. november 2019 besøkte jeg Norges Husflidslags vevsymposium som arrangeres hvert tredje år, denne gangen i Tromsø. Omlag 150 personer var samlet under tre innholdsrike dager. Norges Husflidslag er en kultur- og interesseorganisasjon som er en ledende aktør innen kulturvern og næringshusflid i Norge. Organisasjonen ble stiftet i 1910 og har 24.000 medlemmer over hele landet. Norges Husflidslag har vev som satsningsområde med et eget fagråd i vev. Det er stor vevaktivitet i husflidslag i hele landet hvor over 1000 personer årlig deltar på vevkurs.

Vevsymposiet ble arrangert på Tromsø Universitetsmuseum med åpningsarrangement på Tromsø bibliotek. Universitetsmuseet ligger vakkert til på sydspissen av Tromsøya. Biblioteket ligger i Tromsø sentrum og er en populær møteplass i byen, mange forbipasserende fikk ta del i åpningen og vevfaget fikk vist seg fra sin beste side. Snøen lavet ned hver dag og mørket la seg med et magisk mørkblått skimmer ved 16-tiden som gjorde av vi tilbragte dagene innendørs. 

Grindvevd bånd med fine avslutninger.

Tema for symposiet var grenseløst mangfold – i teknikker, uttrykk og menneskemøter. I Tromsø var jeg nærmere Finland, Sverige og Russland enn de sørlige deler av Norge, og nordfylkene har tradisjonelt sett nære relasjoner til disse landene. Å få komme nærmere den samiske kulturarven føltes bra og spennende, da jeg som «søring» har fått lære lite om samisk kultur. Grenseløst mangfold i teknikker gjenspeilet seg i en rekke måter å veve bånd på – oppleggskanten til grenevev, grindvevde bånd i et hav av varianter og vevde bånd på rundstav fra Arkhangelsk inspirerte. Det grenseløse mangfoldet i uttrykk gjenspeilet seg i foredragsholdere med fokus på alt fra kunstvev, håndveving som yrke, tekstilforskning, rekonstruksjon og historisk fokus til samisk kulturarv og deres håndverk – douidji. Videre vil jeg presentere noen av høydepunktene fra programmet. 

Grindvevde bånd på russisk til venstre og norsk til høyre. Fra workshop under lørdagen der deltagerne fikk prøve seg.

Noe av det som gav meg mest var å høre Sonja Vangen fortelle om greneveving, hun er en levende tradisjonsbærer med kunnskapen i hendene. Greneveving er en tradisjon som har levd videre i århundrer i Manndalen, noen mil øst for Tromsø. Grener er tjukke, varme pledd som veves på en grenevev. Greneveven består av to stokker som lenes opp mot en vegg, med en tverrgående kjepp som renninga sys fast til, med steiner som lodd. Til skilnad fra andre oppstadvever brukes naturstein som lodd, ikke de typiske kljåsteinene i kleberstein. Sojna fortalte at hun som barn fikk være med å samle stein til en vev, og trikset var å finne like tunge steiner som samtidig hadde en avlang form som var enkel å knyte fast. Renninga lages gjennom å veve med grind i et eget rennigngsapparat, der innslaget blir renningstråder. Annenhver tråd hovles i halvhovler på nok en tverrgående kjepp. Både renning og innslag håndspinnes. Sonja Vangen demonstrerte under lørdagen hvordan ei grene veves. Hun lærte å veve grener av sin mor – det gjorde alle da ho var lita, «ein måtte bare det», sa ho. Innslaget skal være tjukt og mjukt, det spanns tradisjonelt på en spinnekrok.  Fremdeles håndspinnes innslaget, men nå på rokk. Grenene fungerte som dyne for de nomadiske samene og som teltduk. Bunnfargen var alltid sauevit, med sauesvarte striper. Grått forekommer. Fargebruken gjenspeiler sjøsamenes sauehold og de naturtilganger som fantes. Først i senere år har det vært vanlig med andre farger i grenene. Steinbittenner (kjerringtann) er typiske mønster i bordene.

En grenevev i miniatyr med naturstein som lodd og nærbilde av grene med bl.a. steinbittenner.

Fra renning til grenevev.

Preparing warp for a grene

Charlotte Engstad var en annen kvinne som inspirerte. Hun driver firmaet Stellaria og fortalte om hvordan det er å leve som håndvever – hvilke utfordringer hun har, hva hun vever og hennes innstilling til håndverket. Egentlig utdannet biolog med doktorgrad, videreutdannet hun seg i voksen alder og er i dag håndvevermester, en av de få med denne tittelen i Norge. Hun vever bunadsstoffer, skjerf og interiørtekstiler. Hun er den eneste jeg kjenner til som vever med rykkverk. Besøk hennes hjemmeside og bli inspirert! https://atelierstellaria.no/?lang=nb

Åsa Elstad fortalte om et spesielt tekstilfunn i fra Skjoldehamn på Andøya. En godt bevart drakt datert til 1050-1100-tallet ble funnet i ei myr, dette er idag Norges eldste tekstilfunn. Drakta består av ei kofte med hette, skjorte, bukse, belte og sko. Hvem bar drakten, som er for stort for skjelettet den ble funnet sammen med? Var bæreren samisk, mann eller kvinne? Vi fikk ingen fasit. Kim Holte, ansatt håndverker ved Lofotr vikingmuseum, holdt kurs i å veve grindvevde bånd til drakten. Under åpningen av symposiet bar hun sine håndsydde bukser som er en rekonstruksjon av Skjoldehamnbuksene – og de fungerte bemerkelsesverdig fint i en moderne sammenheng. 

Som en fortsettelse på emnet om klestradisjoner i nord holdt Torunn Sedolfsen et foredrag om  vevtradisjoner i Troms. Vi fikk bla i hennes fantastiske permer fylt med hennes rekonstruerte stoffer fra to tøyprøvesamlinger som finnes på Tromsø Museum. En herlig samling med bekledningsstoffer, sengetøy og hverdagstekstiler fra naturalhushold i Senjakommunene Berg og Torsken som representerer et godt stykke kvinnehistorie. Dette arbeidet er på vei til å bli en bok. 

Ellen Kjellmo fortalte engasjert om båtrya. Hun har også skrevet en bok, «Båtrya: i gammel og ny tid», den anbefaler jeg på det varmeste – en innholdsrik bok med fagtermer, informative bilder og godt dokumentert håndverkskunnskap.  På den lille halvtimen hun hadde til disposisjon gravde hun dypt i kyst-norges tradisjoner med å veve varmende ryer som fiskerene brukte i sine båter. Rya kalles for en skinnfellsimitasjon som er en passende beskrivelse – en solid vevnad med slitesterke dekkhår i renninga, og med «nopp» (lugg) i mjuk og isolerende bunnull som tilsammen imiterer sauens fell. Rya har som fordel at den beholder den mjuke og varmende evnen selv om den blir bløt – en vanlig skinnfell ville blitt stiv og ubrukelig av det salte vannet. 

I andreetasjen på museet var det en pop-up butikk med salg av håndvevde produkter – vevde bånd fra Arkhangelsk, tepper og sjal fra Stellaria, bøker og vevutstyr av Norges Husflidslag. Kåfjorddalen Ullkarderi som drives av 3. generasjon ullkardere som nå satser stort på eget spinneri solgte kardet ull som ullflak og forgarn. De karder ulla uten å vaske den som gjør at lanolinet bevares og det beste av ullens egenskaper kommer fram. Museumsbutikken skuffet med sitt sortiment av maskinvevde sjal og souvernirprodukter produsert i utlandet. Hva med å satse mer på disse lokale håndverkerne?

Sergei Klykov fra Arkhangelsk viser båndveving på rundstav.

Det eneste jeg savnet under vevsymposiet var en stående utstilling av tradisjonelle tekstiler fra nordfylkene, både gamle tekstiler og nyproduserte. Samtidig skulle jeg ønske meg mer mingeltid da dagene var fullpakket med program som gav lite tid til å prate med de deltakgende og skape nye bekjentskap. Reiseskildringen vil jeg avrunde med et dikt av Rolf Jacobsen. 

Nord av Rolf Jacobsen

Se oftere mot nord.

Gå mot vinden, du får rødere kinn.

Finn den ulendte stien. Hold den.

Den er kortere.

Nord er best.

Vinterens flammehimmel, sommer-

nattens solmirakel.

Gå mot vinden. Klyv berg.

Se mot nord.

Oftere.

Det er langt dette landet.

Det meste er nord.

Lenker

http://www.husflid.no/om_oss/kalender/vevsymposium_2019_grenseloest_mangfold_i_tromsoe

https://norskekunsthandverkere.no/users/freydis-einarsen

https://atelierstellaria.no/

https://touch.facebook.com/ullkarderi/?__tn__=%7EH-R

https://www.orkana.no/forfatter/ellen-kaia-kjellmo/

http://www.vesteraalen.info/reportasje_andoy_skjoldeforedrag_09.htm

Hilde Opedal Nordby is an Norwegian textile artist working with traditional weaving techniques, as well as contemporary and digital weaving. She is based in Sundsvall in Sweden and is working as a teacher in the weaving department at Sätergläntan Institute of Crafts in Insjön, Sweden. She also has her own company offering courses and weaving services as well as hand woven textiles such as interior textiles and textiles for clothing.

Surprises in Everyday Life

Editor’s note:  Dorthe Herup’s tapestry, “Messelt,” was chosen this year for inclusion in the prestigious annual art show in Norway, the Høstutstilling (the Fall Exhibition). This article on Herup and her tapestry appeared in the online magazine Billedkunst (Visual Art), published by Norsk Billedkunstnere (The Association of Norwegian Visual Artists) on September 26, 2019.

Hedda Grevle Ottesen in Conversation with Dorthe Herup

“Dåp” (Baptism), 2014.

When someone weaves, they have a genuine opportunity to feel time, and experience how exciting history can be, says Dorthe Herup.

At Holmestrand station I was warmly greeted by textile artist Dorthe Herup (born in 1953 in Ærø, Denmark). We drove from the center of Holmestrand out toward pasture land, where fallow deer and Muflon sheep grazed. Here at the Marienborg family farm Herup and the artist Morten Juvet have a working farm and their studios. Ever since the Danish Herup completed her degree at Bergen Kunsthåndverkskole in 1978, much of her career has been outside Norway, even though she has lived most of her life in Norway. 

Herup moved to Norway in 1973 and worked for [noted tapestry weaver] Else Marie Jakobsen in Kristiansand before she began to study in Oslo at Statens Håndverks- og Kunstindustriskole (the National Handcraft and Industrial Art School). Herup has participated in large textile exhibitions, such as the Beijing International Fiberart Biennale Exhibition and the Biennale Internazionale di fiber art in Italy. This is the third time Herup’s work is in the Høstutstilling.

Herup has an engaging presence. Over coffee she showed me photos from the early 1900s, photographs that have inspired her tapestries. Like “Benken” from 2018, which depicts Danish sailors from her childhood—sailors who told tales from around the world, if you took the time to listen. She recited stories of her relatives’ histories, showing knowledge of earlier generations. She showed wonder at their ordinary lives, which unmistakably resemble our own today. 

“Benken” (The Bench), 2018. 180 cm x 450 cm.

After a wide-ranging conversation on the role of textile art today, we wandered across the yard to Juvet and Herup’s two studios. Light came in through a balcony with a view of the fjord. On the other side of the room was a remarkably large weaving. The tapestry was used for interior décor under the auspices of the City of Oslo in 2014. The 3 x 6 meter woven scene hangs in the foyer of Fernanda Nissens School in Storo. The feminist Fernanda Nissen stands on the right side of the tapestry with the National Theater and Bjørnstjerne Bjørnsen in the background. The left side of the tapestry depicts matchstick workers on strike. The dramatic scene of the tapestry is an example of how Herup relates political aspects to young people. 

Fernanda Nissen School tapestry. Photo: Jansen. 300 cm x 600 cm

In connection with my visit Dorthe hung the large tapestry in wool about the bear hunter Ole Olsen Messelt (1776-1869), “Messelt,” (145 x 110 cm) from 2018.  The weaving is impressionistic: looked at closely, it appears to have planes of horizontal color changes; at a distance, the palette seems to be brown tones. This is a conscious technique to create association with old photographs, she says. Herup dyes the wool yarn herself. While I studied the tapestry, Dorthe told me the remarkable tale of the bear hunter. 

 

The Conversation: Hedda Grevle Ottesen and Dorthe Herup

Hedda Grevle Ottesen (HGO) : You have a genuine interest in history, especially family history.  Where does that come from? 

Dorthe Herup (DH): History is what generally occupies me in my designs. I am interested in people of the future, and people who came before us. Especially after my children had children of their own, my interest in family history has grown. I study family trees, learn about family history and hope to give a face to all these people I get to know through this work. I want to know as much as possible about these people I weave; what they were like, what they cared about, and what their values are. 

HGO: Each year the Høstutstilling desires to comment on contemporary tendencies. How do you see yourself in this aspect? 

DH: I was actually surprised that precisely this work was chosen.  It is a type of  work that looks backward more than forward. 

HGO: I think it is understandable that the tapestry was chosen. Our language is taken from a past that is fundamental to a common understanding today. Through attention to history, as you said earlier, we obtain a broader view of the present. 

DH: Oh, I absolutely agree: that the present is anchored in history. Today everything happens on a screen. Information travels quickly, and we seldom look back. We have less time to talk together than before, when people related their histories to younger generations. Today young people grow up with the belief that so much must happen at once, and they forget to think about where we came from. When you weave, you have a genuine opportunity to feel time passing, and experience how exciting history can be. I am interested in people of the future, and people who have lived. 

HGO: Tell us more about the tapestry in the exhibition. 

DH: It was originally commissioned by the great-great-great grandchild of the bear hunter Messelt, and I borrowed it for the exhibition. It took five months to weave, but because I took time to research the figures in the portrait, it’s difficult to know exactly how many hours the work took in total. In the photograph on which the tapestry is based, two elderly people hold hands. It is Messelt and his wife Sigrid Torgalsdatter. I borrowed the photograph from the collection of the Folk Museum. I liked the way they held each other’s hands; it shows how connected they were. They had ten children and ran their farm for 34 years. They lost their eldest son, who would have inherited the farm, in a drowning accident when he was crossing a rapid stream, to the great sorrow of Messelt and Torgalsdatter. There is a seriousness in their eyes. I would say that is the most important thing in my work—to create a relationship to the people I depict, which becomes an emotional expression of history. 

HG: What is it that makes the bear hunter such a compelling figure?

DH: Messelt is a famous person in Norwegian cultural history and there are many accounts of his life. He was a very skilled bear hunter at a time when there was a bounty on bears. On the right side you see his gun, which today hangs in the Norwegian  Skogsmuseum (Forest Museum) in Elverum. In retrospect I see he is also relevant today, for example in Jon Michelet’s books on the wartime sailor Halvor Skramstad, Skogsmatrosen (October Publishing House, 2012–2018). The bears you see in the tapestry also have different personalities, which I tried to depict. In the time it took to weave “Messelt,” I became well acquainted with each bear. All bears are different. 

Dorthe Herup (born in 1953 in Ærø, Denmark) lives in Holmestrand,  She was trained at Kolding Kunsthåndverkskole (Kolding Handcraft School, Sydjylland, Denmark), Statens Håndverks- og kunstindustriskole (National School of Handwork and Industrial Arts (OSLO), and og Bergen Kunsthåndverkskole (Bergen Art and Handcraft School). Among many exhibits, she has had solo shows at the Nord-Trøndelag Fylkesgalleri and Galleri Galleberg in Tønsberg. She has participated in the Høstutstillingen several times, the Norske Kunsthåndverkeres Årsutstilling (Norwegian Association for Arts and Crafts Annual Craft Exhibition), the Artapestry exhibition under the auspices of the European Tapestry Forum, and a series of international biennial and triennial exhibits with a focus on textile art. Recently she had a solo exhibit, “Benken,” at the Marstal Søfartsmuseum (Marstal Shipping Museum) in Ærø, Denmark from July to September, 2019.