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Handicraft in Grini Prison Camp

By Nina Granlund Sæther

Editor’s note: This article was taken from the blog of Nina Granlund Sæther, Hjertebank, originally published on September 16, 2015Thank you to the author for permission to reprint her interesting observations, and to Katherine Larson for translating it into English.
Grini Prison Camp was the largest camp for political prisoners in Norway during the Second World War.  Almost 20,000 Norwegians were imprisoned.  The camp opened as a museum in 1996.

This evening I visited Grini Museum in Bærum with the Asker Historical Society. Almost 20,000 women and men were imprisoned in Grini for some period of time during the Second World War. The museum has an assortment of items that were made by the prisoners in secret. Especially evocative are drawings that illustrate life in the barracks and terrorism by the Germans, but a number of small handicraft items also captured my interest.

grini1There were about 6,000 women imprisoned in Grini during the war. They were kept strictly separated from the male prisoners. Several spent long periods in isolation cells after torture and abuse at Møllergata 19 or Victoria Terrasse. Prison guards did their best to torment them, but in the dead of night, they still managed to both embroider and knit.

Grini2Several of the embroideries show what it was like in the prison camp: barracks, barbed wire, bars on the windows.

The first women came to Grini in 1941, and they quickly discovered that this was no holiday retreat. In contrast to the male prisoners, they were not allowed to go outside, and they were given hard work to do. Uniforms were to be washed, mended and starched. According to All verdens historie, the youngest and fittest were sent to the washing cellar, older and weaker women worked in the sewing room.

grini3

I want out – out…

Access to materials was extremely limited. Gudrun Fuglestad, prisoner number 9326, was one of those who managed to steal various fragments of cloth that she could decorate. Belts were made of sackcloth from the mattress she slept on, but she also managed to get hold of a tablecloth, perhaps in the laundry. Threads [for embroidery] were removed from coats and sweaters. Many of the textiles are decorated with the Norwegian flag in red, white and blue. One of the embroideries is a map of Norway. With white stitches on a blue background, she embroidered: “Fight for all that you hold dear.”

grini4Among Gudrun Fuglestad’s creations are a miniature red knitted cap, a tiny knitted teddy bear, and a pair of tiny socks. All are knitted with hairpins. Those were the only “knitting needles” they could get. The red cap was of course a jab [at the Germans]. During the war, many indicated their opposition to the German occupation and Quisling’s Nazi administration by wearing a red knitted cap.

grini5The Germans were so angered by the red caps that in 1942 they banned their use:

Warning. Red hats. The use of red hats has recently increased so much that from now on they will be considered a demonstration. The use of these hats is therefore forbidden from and including Thursday, February 26, 1942. From that day forward, hats will be taken from anyone who appears in same and the offender will be subject to criminal penalties – for children under 14 years – parents or guardians will be liable. Trondheim Police Office, February 23, 1942.

grini6Another who knitted with hairpins was Dagny Qvist. In the photo below, one can see both the mittens she made and the hairpins she used.

grini7

MITTENS. Is it possible to knit with hairpins? Yes, if no other needles are to be found and if one has a lot of time. These small mittens were knitted by Dagny Qvist in 1945. The needles she used for knitting were hairpins that she bent straight. The embroidery on the backs of the mittens represents barbed wire. She was arrested for illegal activities. Her husband, bookseller Erik Qvist, was also imprisoned at Grini.

There are a number of other small handicraft items that are well worth seeing. The museum is open on Sundays, and if you are lucky, you might get a tour from one of those who was imprisoned here. Hopefully, the museum will be expanded next year.

The Chairman of the Grini Museum Foundation, Bjørn Krogsrud, wants to make sure that the prisoners who were incarcerated at Grini receive the consideration they deserve.

“They share the fate of wartime sailors. I am amazed that they have not received the honor they deserve. Here the silent heroes sat, [but] they were modest and would not promote themselves. I think all towns in Norway have had Grini prisoners in their midst,” he said to Budstikka.

Currently the museum is lacking only a few million [kroner] to rebuild one of the barracks that existed at Grini. The hope is that funds will be allocated in the national budget this fall.

grini8

A Common Thread: Weaving Traditions of Norway and Sweden

Editor’s Note:  This article by Katherine Larson was originally published in Vesterheim, a publication of Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum, volume 3, number 2, 2005, and is reprinted with permission.  Read the full article in pdf version HERE.   (Note: This is a large file with photos, and may load slowly.) In addition, Vesterheim Curator Laurann Gilbertson provided photographs and information below from the labels used in the exhibit.

Monk’s Belt  (Norwegian: Tavlebragd, Swedish: Munkebälte)
The small and large squares characteristic of both Norwegian and Swedish monk’s belt coverlets were often arranged to form either cross patterns (hanging) or square grids (trunk, left). Occasionally horizontal stripes of colored wool weft were used to separate the bands of monk’s belt patterns (trunk, right). The weavers in Skåne, Sweden, frequently wove their coverlets on a dark ground (hanging), a departure from the neutral linen or cotton ground that was more common elsewhere in Sweden and in Norway.

Common Thread 030

(Hanging: Table cover from Skåne, Sweden, Nordic Heritage Museum; Trunk left: Coverlet from Sogn, Norway, Vesterheim; Trunk right: coverlet from Nordfjord, Noway, Nordic Heritage Museum)

Tapestry (Norwegian: Billedvev)
Norwegian tapestry coverlets commonly depicted Biblical themes, such as the Adoration of the Magi. Tapestries were woven on their side to reduce the number of vertical dovetail joins required. A tapestry of this size and complexity was probably woven by a specialist that worked on a loom as broad as the finished weaving was high. (Adoration of the Magi, Norway, Vesterheim Museum)

1984.123.001asm(Swedish: Flamskväv)
The weavers in northeast Skåne were noted for coverlets that contained eight-petaled roses and the figures of men, women, birds, and horse. These coverlets, woven in the geometric tapestry technique, were executed in such fine detail that they included buttons on the men’s jackets and tiny candles. In contrast to Norwegian tapestry coverlets, which were woven while turned sideways on wide looms, these coverlet were made in two narrow sections on the smaller looms typical of home weaving. The two pieces were then sewn together to create a coverlet. The inscription at the top reads, “In the name of God the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost.” Initials and date, 1857, also personalize the coverlet. (Left, below: Geometric tapestry coverlet, Skåne, Sweden, private collection)

Common Thread 034

Three Holy King billedvev match with a Swedish weaving. Right: Geometric tapestry coverlet, Skåne, Sweden, private collection

Tapestry (Norwegian: Billedvev, Swedish: Flamskväv)
The Red Lion, a popular motif in Swedish tapestry cushion covers, was probably a simplification of earlier tapestries depicting Samson and the Lion. Norwegian and Swedish tapestry weavers often drew on Biblical these for their subject matter. The Wedding in Canaan is believed to be the inspiration for the banquet scene in this cushion cover.

Common Thread 026

Left: cushion cover from Skåne, Sweden, private collection; Right: cushion cover, Vesterheim

Thanks to Laurann Gilbertson, Curator of the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum, for arranging permission to post the original article, and for providing extra information and photos from the exhibit labels.

 

A Personal Scream Series

Editor (and author) note:  This article was published in the Fall 2015 issue of the British Journal for Weavers, Spinners and Dyers, and is reprinted with permission. Read the pdf version of that article HERE.

journal coverBy Robbie LaFleur

Almost every mention of Edvard Munch’s expressionist painting, Skrik or “Scream,” is followed by a phrase along the lines of, ’one of the world’s most recognizable works of art.’

I’ve contemplated Munch’s Scream since the first time I saw one of the paintings in Norway during weaving school in the late 1970s; he had painted several versions of the Scream. My own interpretations began in 2001, during a Scream-worthy situation. I worked for the Minnesota Legislature, and the legislative session dragged on in overtime, into the summer, filled with acrimony and budget dilemmas. It seemed like a good time to weave Edvard Munch’s image of angst. I set up my tapestry loom in the living room and wove as frequently as possible, telling myself that when the tapestry was finished, the special legislative session would wrap up its work. I was right.scream-tapestry-s

A photocopy of the image, taped to a top corner of the loom, guided my color choices as I wove the background behind the figure on the bridge. The wavy lines created with a distorted, or eccentric weft, didn’t exactly match Munch’s paint strokes, but they created a similar feeling of unease. I’ve displayed the small tapestry (11in x 7in) many times during the past decade, often during a weaving demonstration. Each time at least one person asks, ‘Can I buy this?’. I could have sold it many times over, but maybe not, if I’d actually suggested a price that could make me part with it.

The tapestry was the beginning of a series, partially prompted by a friend who suggested I continue making Scream in various textile techniques. It is a great image for exploration. The painting is meaningful and powerful, yet also recognizable to the point of kitsch. It is also fun to examine for line and color, to determine how to use each textile medium to advantage.

French Knots

The French Knot Scream was an experiment in shading to achieve a photo-like quality. I chose a portion of Munch’s image and using an inkjet printer, printed it onto a sheet of fabric. I carried around the small embroidery (7in x 5in) for a whole summer, adding a few more of the approximately 9,500 knots during car trips and snatches of free time. The knots were made with two strands of embroidery floss, which made many subtle shades possible. I framed the embroidery in a substantial gold frame, which seemed to draw viewers in to figure out how it was created.

french-embroidery2

Line Embroidery

Another summer, a line embroidery of Scream occupied my travel bag, starting, appropriately, on a trip to Norway. The face is surrounded by a phrase used by my Scottish grandmother in a letter to me when I was 21, ‘We sure have missed you, but life doesn’t hand us all our desires’ (I think Munch would agree). This has been embroidered in her handwriting. The line drawing itself, embroidered in a variegated purple silk thread, seemed dull, so I quilted the linen backing with thin batting and short, randomly-placed linen stitches. The practical part of me felt this piece should become a pillow (completed size: 15in x 13in).

scream-pillow-s

Fabric Printing

I carved a Scream linoleum-block image for textile printing. It has been well-used; many of my friends have napkins and guest towels with the image. I titled my original textile piece was “Edvard Munch Kommentarer Paa Opvask” (Edvard Munch Comments on Washing Dishes).  Five IKEA dishtowels, printed with the same screaming figure, hang from a towel bar, which portrays the title in gothic script. (total dimensions: 29in x 31in) It’s intended to be amusing, but also a comment on Munch, a serious male Expressionist painter who likely spent little time thinking about domestic arts.

kommentarers

Skinnfell

In 2010 I took a course from a Norwegian instructor, Britt Solheim, on making skinnfell (coverlets sewn of several sheepskins). In traditional skinnfell pieces, which have become popular again in Norway, the smooth side was either wood-block printed with traditional motifs or covered by a woven textile, or sometimes both, leaving secret designs underneath the fabric. After the class I created a Scream wall piece (18in x 26in) on sheepskin, incorporating the iconic image with traditional wood-block patterns. I wanted to explore the relationship, or lack thereof, between Munch’s fine art prints and the traditional folk arts of the period.

skinfell-ryaRya

The largest Scream piece (36in x 60in), a Scandinavian rya, was an experiment in weaving in a pixelated fashion. I cut the full-sized pattern into narrow strips. With each row of knots on the rya I entered bundles of yarn to match the colors along the strips. This technique did not work perfectly; after unrolling the finished piece from the loom I spent many hours with a tapestry needle, putting in some bundles and taking out others to improve the image. This piece is much larger than the original images in Munch’s paintings, and while weaving it I was surprised by my emotional reaction to the image which I had reproduced many times before. As I tied the knots of the face and hands, I worked at close range and spent many hours looking at my blown-up pattern and back at the unfolding face on the loom. To me the yarn gathered the sense of psychological unease in Munch’s painting. Would the piece be large and frightening? Once completed, however, the shaggy image was striking, but not scary.

219 Lafleure-Moore Robbie Scream no number PRThe 150th anniversary of the birth of Edvard Munch was celebrated in 2013, a fitting time to complete my textile appreciation series. Still, I might pick up the theme in the future. Could the collection be complete without a knitted Scream?

Robbie LaFleur is a weaver and librarian living in Minneapolis, Minnesota. She began her weaving study with a course in traditional Norwegian weaving at Valdres Husflidsskole in Fagernes, Norway, in 1977. Since that time she has studied with several Norwegian and American weavers. Among other projects, her current series is an exploration of family members, current and long past, in tapestry. You can follow her weaving activities at her blog, boundweave.wordpress.com. She is the editor of The Norwegian Textile Letter, and recently converted it to a digital publication, norwegiantextileletter.com.

cartoon1 2Postscript: The Scream series was also featured in an exhibit in the Community Gallery at the American Swedish Institute from June-September, 2015.  As well as the Scream pieces, the exhibit included Munch-related cartoons and magazine covers.  (Read more here.)

Editors Note

Happy New Year! Please enjoy this collection of articles about weavings and textiles, both new and old, at norwegiantextileletter.com.

Many of us understand the continuing allure of the ancient warp-weighted loom, but a whole new audience discovered it during a home show exposition in Bergen this year.  Read “Finally, Weaving is Now Trendy,” published with permission by journalist Nils-Ove Støbakk. We’re glad he attended the show!

1984.123.001asmThis fall, our Scandinavian Weavers Study Group of the Weavers Guild of Minnesota decided to concentrate on Swedish art weaves techniques for our next study topic. An exhibit about Norwegian and Swedish weaving was held at Vesterheim some years back, and I decided to forward the article about it to our group members.  Why wasn’t it in the archives of the Norwegian Textile Letter?  I wrote to Kay Larson, who curated the exhibit.  The article appeared in the Vesterheim magazine, the general museum publication, and not the Norwegian Textile Letter. This made me happy that I wasn’t completely crazy, and I asked for permission from Vesterheim staff members to link to a pdf copy, for the many Norwegian Textile Letter readers who may not have seen it earlier.

grini6In a contemporary world filled with unrest and terror, this issue of the Norwegian Textile Letter brings a reminder of the power of textiles in another time of war and deprivation. Nina Granlund Sæther wrote on her blog, Hjertebank, about the handcraft of women prisoners at Grini Prison Camp in Norway during World War II.  Besides this interesting article, her blog is filled with inspiration for the knitters among our readers.

219 Lafleure-Moore Robbie Scream no number PRBack when Mary Skoy was editing the Norwegian Textile Letter, she asked me to write an article about my series of textiles based on Edvard Munch’s Scream painting.  I wasn’t quite done at that point, and then I was asked to write about the series for the British Journal for Weavers, Spinners and Dyers.  I waited for that article to be published, and am sharing it now with their permission. The series was featured in an exhibit at the American-Swedish Institute from June-September, 2015, and I’d be glad to share it again.

Finally, publishing the Norwegian Textile Letter online has been a grand experiment, and there are many improvements in style and access that could be made.  I hope to find a better software platform in the next year.  The software and hosting access is paid through the fall of 2016 from the $300 that was “left over” from the former print version.  By the end of this year, the newsletter may change to a paid online version, or I may ask for donations to cover the costs of the next years.

Tell me your thoughts on the articles, and please tell me about articles you would like to see (or write) in the future.

Hilsen, Robbie LaFleur

boundweave.wordpress.com

 

Setesdal Pleating

By Sue Mansfield

Editors Note:  Sue’s article originally appeared in the newsletter of the “Collapse Pleat Bump Study Group,” part of the Complex Weavers Group, in November 2011. We reprint her article here with permission (and gratitude).

In June 2011 I took a vadmel workshop in Norway. Afterward I met my Norwegian relatives. One of the guests at a family christening wore a bunad, or folk costume, from the Setesdal region. I took photos of her and the back of her skirt. Several days later at the Norsk Folkmuseum in Oslo I saw the same bunad and a display of making the pleated black skirt fabric. Immediately I thought of woven shibori, except this pleating was done by hand sewing. The process takes two years. Laurann Gilbertson, the Vesterheim Museum Curator, lent me a VHS tape on the pleating process based on research by Aagot Noss and answered questions for me because the language on the tape was Norwegian. (Viewing a tape without understandable narration doesn’t indicate elapsing time between processing steps and repeated processes.) Black and white photos come from Stakkeklede I Setesdal by Aagot Noss with permission from Novus forlag.

Fabric

The warp is wool single ply Z twist at 16 threads per cm and the weft wool single ply S twist at 8 threads per cm and is woven as a two-two twill. Initial size is 181.5 cm x 65 cm. The sheep breeds for wool for textile work in general in the Setesdal Valley are Spælsau and Dalasau. Spælsau is an old Norwegian short tailed breed with a two layer coat which dates back to the Vikings. Dalasau is a cross between Spælsau and English breeds (Cheviot, Leicester, Sutherland). (7)

Pleating

SEM-page 171

Stakkeklede I Setesdal by Aagot Noss, p. 171

A length of white fabric, with or without colored weft as spacing indicators at intervals, is stitched four rows at a time with linen or bast fiber thread. Each of the parallel stitching lines has a separate needle. When the entire width is stitched the sewer tightly pulls up the four threads and ties a knot using pairs of two threads. She continues with the next four rows. When the entire length is pleated, it is stretched out flat and then rolled around a rolling pin and pinned closed. It is rolled on a board to flatten out the pleats. It is stored for a year on the rolling pin before fulling and dyeing.

Fulling

After the storage time it is unrolled (still pleated) and put in an iron pot filled with water which is then brought to a boil. The steaming hot fabric is removed and rubbed on both sides with lye or “green” soap using a wooden washboard. (The lye soap is made with hemp oil.) The fabric is rubbed and rolled on the felting board and put in the pot again and boiled. This process is repeated several times. Finally the fabric is rinsed in a bucket of water.

Mordanting and dyeing

SEM-page 173, lower R

Stakkeklede I Setesdal by Aagot Noss, p. 173

Five tablets of copper sulphate or blue vitriol are put in the iron pot filled with water, allowed to dissolve, and then the fabric is added.  The fabric with the mordant is boiled for an hour, then cooled in the pot with a rock placed on sticks to weight down the fabric. In the morning it is pulled out. Now the fabric is a bit green. The dyer empties the pot and refills it with water and adds 100 grams of iron per 8 hectograms (800 grams) of fabric. 750 grams of logwood chips are also added to the pot. This is cooked for the dye to develop, then the fabric is added and boiled for an hour. (The logwood chips are still in the dye bath.) (Photos p174, p175 top left–dyeing) The tape shows the dyer checking the density of the dye by pulling apart the pleats. When there is complete black dyeing –no white streaks or dots, she lets the fabric cool for five or six hours with sticks and rock weighting on top of it. The logwood chips below and the rock above help to keep the heat in longer.

dyeing

Stakkeklede I Setesdal by Aagot Noss, p. 174 and 175

The fabric is stretched out flat on the ground and cold ash from birch trees, bjørkeoske, is sprinkled on both sides. It is rolled up with the ash; the next morning it is rinsed in the lake and hung up on a clothesline to dry.

Garment yardage

SEM-page 175, top R

Stakkeklede I Setesdal by Aagot Noss, p. 175

The dried dyed and pleated fabric is rolled on a rolling pin and fastened closed with pins. No pleating threads are removed while it is stored.  Laurann Gilbertson says, “The fabric is left for at least one year before it can be sewn into a garment. Noss says that her informant, Jorann T. Rysstad (the one in the film), said her mother had left the fabric both eight and ten years. I can’t tell if that was for better colorfastness and pleating or if that’s just how long it took her to use some of her prepared fabric.

SEM-page 176

Stakkeklede I Setesdal by Aagot Noss, p. 176

Stakkeklede I Setesdal by Aagot Noss, p. 173

Stakkeklede I Setesdal by Aagot Noss, p. 173

The holes in the fabric indicate that the pleating process was authentic. I asked whether the tape showed the traditional method. Laurann says, “ This is the historic/traditional process. The only modernization might be the stripes woven into the fabric that make it easier to sew straight lines. The old samples (strip page 172 and detail page 173) (Detail photo of grey gathered fabric p 173.) do not have the dark strip woven in. It is possible to make the fine pleats with a machine and it’s also possible to use synthetic dye instead of logwood.” Noss says, “Pleated garments were worn in Norway back to the Middle Ages, though some of those garments haven’t remained in use (like men’s balloon-shaped knee pants) in the 19th or 20th centuries. Other regions in addition to Setesdal in Aust-Agder in Norway use pleated fabrics.”

The Setesdal bunad has a black skirt with green and red bands at the hem which is stiffened with a triple layered strip of fulled white wool. The videotape also included sewing details.

Setesdal bunadAnother weaver, Patrice George from New York City, was inspired by the Setesdal process to make a pleated pillow using woven shibori technique with waxed cotton upholstery thread for the gathering at desired intervals. She, however, didn’t use the traditional fulling and dyeing process. She washed the fabric in lukewarm water and steamed the pleats. Her pleating wouldn’t necessarily survive cleaning processes; the warp and weft were already dyed.

For those of us in the study group the traditional process described above could be modified to full the pleats, i.e. use caustic solution of lye soap or hot soapy water, and boil with agitation or  use a washing machine.

Resources:

  1. Stakkeklede i Setesdal by Aagot Noss, Institutet for sammenligende kulturrfoskning, Novus forlag, Oslo Norway 2008
  2. VCR tape –Stakkefeddung og farging og Bunadssying I Setesdal (I: Norsk filminstitutt)
  3. Laurann Gilbertson, textile curator Vesterheim Museum, Decorah, Iowa
  4. Sue MansfieldPatrice George, FIT New York, personal notes and article in Veyer I Vev, pages 48-49
  5. Vyer I Vev, by Tove Gulsvik and Ingebjørg Vaagen, Norges Husflidslag
  6. Advice from Carol Colburn, professor of history and costume design at University of Northern, Iowa, Cedar Falls, Iowa
  7. Thesis reference provided by Laurann Gilbertson for possible identification of sheep breed: Svensøy, Kari Grethe. “Det va inkje hobby; det va arbeid:” Tekstilarbeid i Bykle ca. 1900-1935. [It was not a hobby; it was work: Textile work in Bykle] Masters thesis, University of Oslo, 1987. p. 178.
  8. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sp%C3%A6lsau_%28sheep%29 Information on spelsau sheep
Sue Mansfield is a member of the Weavers Guild of Minnesota and an avid weaver who is undaunted by the prospect of complex processes.  (Note her beautiful handwoven and pleated shirt in the photo.)

Krokbragd and More at the Summer Exhibit

The collection of weavings in the 2015 National Exhibition of Folk Art in the Norwegian Tradition was rich in color and techniques, but especially strong in krokbragd and bound rosepath.  The header photo shows a unique pair of mittens with band-woven cuffs by Kathryn Evans of Lena, Illinois.  In addition to the ribbon-winning entries, these pieces were on display.

Gay Dudley Allan. Iowa City, IA. “Raspberry Pie,” Wall Hanging in Krokbragd Technique.

Gay Dudley Allan. Iowa City, IA. “Raspberry Pie,” Wall Hanging in Krokbragd Technique.

Jan Mostrom

Jan Mostrom, Gold Medalist. Chanhassen, MN. “Dancing Skies,” Wall Hanging in Rya Technique

Rosemary Roehl

Rosemary Roehl, Gold Medalist. St. Cloud, MN.
“Playing with Red,” Wall Hanging in Krokbragd and Rosebragd Techniques.

Rosemary Roehl

Rosemary Roehl, Gold Medalist. St. Cloud, MN. “Northern Lights,” Wall Hanging in Krokbragd and Rosebragd Techniques.

Robbie LaFleur

Robbie LaFleur, Gold Medalist. Minneapolis, MN.
“Bands of Summer,” Rug in Bound Rosepath Technique.

Connie Rubsamen

Connie Rubsamen. Long Beach, CA. Guitar Strap in Bandweave Pick-up Technique.

Sandra Moe

Sandra Moe. La Crosse, WI.
Wall Hanging in Vestfoldsmett Technique.

Melba Granlund

Melba Granlund. Minneapolis, MN.
“Julefest” Wall Hanging in Krokbragd Technique.

Mary Glock

Mary Glock. Decorah, IA.
“Apple Tree All Year,” Wall Hanging in Krokbragd Technique.

Melissa Brown, Guttenberg, IA. “Ode to Betty Nelson, ” Table Runner in Overshot Technique.

Melissa Brown, Guttenberg, IA. “Ode to Betty Nelson, ” Table Runner in Overshot Technique.

Kathryn Evans, Lena, IL. Mittens with Tablet-woven Cuffs.

Kathryn Evans, Lena, IL. Mittens with Tablet-woven Cuffs.

Laurann Gilbertson is the Chief Curator of the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum and a tireless promoter of Scandinavian textiles.

 

 

 

 

 

 

National Exhibition of Folk Art in the Norwegian Tradition – 2015

colorsWeavings were well represented at Vesterheim this summer in the National Exhibition of Folk Art in the Norwegian Tradition, beautifully displayed with painted and carved pieces. For example, Melba Granlund’s krokbragd piece was displayed next to a deep-toned rosemaled piece in the Os technique by Peter Stromme.  Beside one another on the brick wall, the colors glowed.

Well-deserved awards included:

Blue Ribbon:
Sandra Somdahl, Decorah, IA, “Loki’s Rainbow.” Wall Hanging in Rutevev Technique

207Red Ribbon:
Marilyn Moore, Cedar, MN, Rosepath Rug

205 smWhite Ribbon:
Kathryn Evans, Lena, IL, Tablet-woven Pillow with Setesdal Embroidery

197 sm
White Ribbon:
Virginia Wekseth, Onalaska, WI, “Whimsy” Wall Hanging or Throw in Boundweave Technique

208 smHonorable Mentions:
#200 Corwyn Knutson, Roseville, MN, “Hardanger Cherry Tree” Wall Hanging in Rya Technique

200 sm
Honorable Mention:
Donna Laken, Rockford, IL, “Sunnfjord Dusk” Wall Hanging in Krokbragd Technique

201 sm
Honorable Mention:
Karin Anderson Maahs, Blaine, MN, “Anderson Berry Farm, Bay City, Wisconsin” Tapestry

203Best of Show Weaving and People’s Choice:
#210 Judy Ann Ness, Gold Medalist, Eugene, OR, “Playa Summer Lake, Spring 2014” Wall
Hanging in Krokbragd Technique (See separate article)

People’s Choice:
#210 Judy Ann Ness, Gold Medalist, Eugene, OR, “Playa Summer Lake, Spring 2014” Wall Hanging in Krokbragd Technique

The staff of Vesterheim are grateful for the help of two expert judges:  Ingebjørg Monsen, Weaving Instructor from Morvik, Norway; and Jan Mostrom, Gold Medal weaver from Chanhassen, Minnesota.

Laurann Gilbertson is the Chief Curator of the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum and a tireless promoter of Scandinavian textiles.

 

 

“Best of Show” Background

By Judy Ness

“Playa Summer Lake, Spring 2014” was woven with a combination of tapestry and krokbragd, a technique I developed while I was in graduate school at the University of Oregon. While the front worked well, I was not able to design an elegant back side while weaving the combination. In regular tapestry, the back side is not reversible and has a mass of yarns tied neatly to keep the ends from coming to the front. In krokbragd, the reverse side with the blocky geometric floats is expected to be clear and clean of any odd disruptions. Over the years, the judges at the show would sometimes ding me for the finishing of the back. I did the best I could to keep the tapestry joins that occurred in the middle of a shot from showing too much on the reverse side. Over the years, pieces would come back to me with the judges’ comments, sometimes dinging me for the unorthodox backside finish. Ticketed by the ‘Krokbragd Police’ again.

This piece evolved from a five-week artist’s residency in Summer Lake, Oregon, in 2014. The residency allowed me to concentrate without distractions on a difficult piece in the Diné (Navajo) technique that I couldn’t seem to face at home. The Oregon high desert in early springtime has subtle colors in the land and outrageous panoramas of dramatic color in the sky. The view out my cabin window was the inspiration for the work that was in the show this year. It was made to honor the experience–to be grateful for the opportunity and to mark it as important.

"Playa Summer Lake, Spring 2014" by Judy Ness. Detail.

“Playa Summer Lake, Spring 2014” by Judy Ness. Detail.

There was a little breakthrough on the structure issue. Clasped wefts. On a smaller piece like this one, using the clasped weft technique (à la Peter Collingwood) made the curves in the clouds. It only took me 17 years to figure that one out. Weaving is not for weenies.

clouds

“Playa Summer Lake, Spring 2014” by Judy Ness. Detail of clouds.

I can trace my deep interest in two favorite types of textiles: Norwegian and Navajo.  As a child, I visited the Nordic Heritage Museum in Seattle, Washington, during Nordic Fest and was fascinated by the beautiful historical items. The tools and textiles on display guided me to a connection with my people. I didn’t know I had people! The idea of becoming a weaver began when I saw the primary colors and startling geometric patterns in Diné (Navajo) rugs as a child. It was so clearly a way to weave beauty and harmony into the world.

Keep weaving. It doesn’t matter what they say or how many shows you get into. Impress yourself, and only yourself.

Judy Ness is a tapestry weaver from Oregon with special interests in Norwegian and Navajo weaving. She has shared her knowledge and love of textiles as an instructor in weaving, spinning, and dyeing since 1995.

From Underwear to Everywhere

By Laurann Gilbertson

The sweaters of today have evolved from what was once men’s underwear. Knit garments were originally night shirts, worn when sleeping or beneath outer layers of clothing during the day.

Nightshirts were made in Germany and England in sold in large numbers in Norway in the 17th and 18th centuries. These were usually one color, patterned with purl stitches, and sometimes decorated with embroidery. They were worn under clothes for warmth and for protection. The “night” in nightshirt could also refer to the “eternal sleep” of death so motifs were added for protection, resurrection, and eternal life. Protective symbols included eight-pointed stars (also called eight-petal flowers).

Gausta.193“Rose sweaters” descended from the night shirts. Wool sweaters with eight-petal flowers as the main motif were made (at home on a knitting machine) and sold along the Norwegian coasts and in Oslo. Local handknitters no doubt copied the sweaters and added variations.

There are some differences across Norway, but common to all historical Norwegian sweaters are:

* the sweater is knit with patterns in two or more colors

* the bottom part of the sweater is knit in one color (for about 4-10 inches in length)

* square or rounded neckline

* pullover style, though some had splits down the front

On the coast (from Aust-Agder to Sør-Trøndelag) the neckline and the split had some sort of braid on the outside, and a lining on the inside. The braid could be floral-patterned ribbon or solid-colored fabric. The cuffs were strengthened by two-end knitting or a piece of braid (slindresnor).

Norwegian sweaters were knit in the round. In the early days, knitting the body of a sweater required six or more knitting needles. The first needles were made of wood, hence the name pinne, which means twig in Norwegian. Later knitting needles could be made from steel, brass, and (much later) plastic. In about 1935, the circular needle (rundpinne) was invented and sold.

The process of knitting sweaters was practical. The body and sleeves were knit as tubes. The oldest sweaters were cut it open so that the knitter could make the adjustments for size; the seam would go under the arm. Because the sweater was worn under clothing it needed to fit closely to the body. The knitter could add under-arm gussets (especially in Setesdal), and then add the arms. Arms could be knit from shoulder down or from cuff up.

Patttern-knit sweaters were practical as under layers because they were warm (two layers of yarn) and durable (two layers of yarn). Occasionally we see glimpses of sweaters in old photographs, especially in relaxed settings when some outer garments have been taken off.

Lusekofte – The Setesdal Sweater

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Annemor Sundbø wrote a whole book on the popular sweater, “Setesdal Sweaters: The History of the Norwegian Lice Pattern.”

One of the most distinctive and recognizable Norwegian sweater is the lusekofte or “lice-pattern sweater” of Setesdal in southern Norway. The body of the sweater is covered in lice – single stitches of a contrasting color. The kross og kringle (X and O) pattern and zigzag lines are common on the shoulders, wrists, and/or hems. The oldest sweaters had a wide white section at the hem. The X and O and zigzag patterns, as well as the wide white hem, were for protection.

“It is obvious that the latest fashion here is to wear a nightshirt without an outer jacket,” wrote Olaus Olsen from Trondheim after attending a country wedding in Setesdal. The lusekofte became popular in Setesdal beginning in the 1830s. It is possible that in order to wear a sweater on the outside of clothing, it needed patterning to make it decent, taking it from underwear to outerwear, according to Annemor Sundbø.

Many Setesdal sweaters had colorful embroidery on the yoke and cuffs. The freehand embroidery is called løyesaum. Løye is the soft, loosely spun yarn used for the embroidery.

Two important changes to the lusekofte came in the 1930s. The first cardigan styles appeared and women began wearing the sweater. These changes came about after Setesdal men stopped wearing embroidered and bibbed trousers.

Even the earliest knitting books and commercial patterns included Setesdal designs and the sweater soon became popular all over Norway and the world.

Fanatrøye – The Fana Sweater

The body of the classic Fana sweater is made up of stripes with lice in the contrasting color. There are typically flowers on the shoulders and grid or checkerboard patterns at the hem or cuffs. While the sweater originated in and is named for Fana, near Bergen on the west coast, the sweater has been extremely popular in eastern Norway in the years between the two world wars. In eastern Norway it is called the Kleiva sweater for the Rødkleiva ski slope located north of Oslo. Rødkleiva was the site of events during the 1952 Winter Olympic Games, so the Kleiva (or Fana) sweater soon became a global favorite.

Historically in Fana, the striped sweaters were worn by men for every day. Special occasion sweaters were a similar style knit with white wool. Like the striped sweater, the white sweater had ribbon trim, fabric facings, and silver or pewter buttons. The patterning was raised, however, created with purl stitches. Women in Fana wore a green or red sweater (red until about 1900, green until 1930) under a bodice with folk dress.

Islender – Iceland Sweaters

Islender sweater

Islender sweater knit by Ella and Amanda Judén, Oslo, Norway, for Einar Judén, ca. 1940. Ella and Amanda knit the sweater for their brother Einar, who was a member of the Norwegian resistance movement during WWII, 1939-1943. Vesterheim 2003.016.001 – Gift of Jean Judeen Smith

Sweaters with all-over, repeating patterns might have large or small motifs. If a sweater has very small motifs, like single Xs or short stripes of triple lice, it might be an “Iceland” sweater, called Islender in Norway. Iceland sweaters were mass produced in the Faroe Islands (owned by Denmark) and exported by 1800. These were often commercially knit and fulled – perfect for fishermen, trappers, hunters, and even polar explorers. Some Icelandic sweaters were sewn from machine-knit yardage.

The first two firms in Norway to knit Iceland-style sweaters were Devold in Ålesund and Petersen & Dekke near Bergen. Handknitters also created sweaters with small, simple motifs. These were called sponsetrøyer and were reserved for work on land or sea.

Maine-based retailer L.L.Bean imported a style of sweater “long used by Norwegian fisherman who required an unusual degree of durability and warmth in a sweater.” The sweater, with offset tripled lice, were sold from 1965 to early 1990s, when L.L. Bean tried to manufacture their own in China. They discontinued the sweater in 1999 and then in 2009 they once again imported the sweater from Norway. The sweaters have been considered essential for outdoor wear – and for 1980s fashions according to The Official Preppy Handbook.

Regional Patterns and Husfliden

There are relatively few regional sweater patterns, but interest in them led has Husfliden, the national handicraft association, to develop some sweater and knitting patterns based on regional traditions. Their first designs were taken from old sweaters with square necks and all-over patterns. Increasingly, pattern inspiration came from nature and folk arts, such as woodcarving, decorative painting, and weaving. Husfliden has offered both patterns for knitting and handknit sweaters for sale.

Yarn companies have also responded to the interest in regional sweaters by giving some of their designs regional names.

Eskimos – Round Yoke Sweaters

Annichen Sibbern designed “Eskimo,” a sweater with a patterned, round yoke in 1930. Her inspiration was the beaded yokes that are part of the Greenlandic National Costumes. She had seen the costumes in a Norwegian film that year called Eskimo. Her sweater design was soon popular with handknitters and knitters using home knitting machines. The round yoke sweater was revived in the 1950s by designer Unn Søiland Dale.

Since the 1950s, Eskimo-style sweaters have been so popular that even the classic Setesdal and Fana sweaters have been reinterpreted with round yokes.

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In the 1950s Sandnes Woolen Mill introduced “Nordkapp,” a square-yoked pattern. This sweater took advantage of the popularity in the 1950s of patterned yokes and Sami motifs. Nordkapp sweaters usually have lice or other small motifs in the body and arms.

Designer Profiles

Unn Søiland Dale modeling her Eskimo Sweater on the cover of the knitting pattern for Sandnes Woolen Mill, 1952. Vesterheim Reference, Ann Swanson Collection

Unn Søiland Dale modeling her Eskimo Sweater on the cover of the knitting pattern for Sandnes Woolen Mill, 1952. Vesterheim Reference, Ann Swanson Collection.

Unn Søiland Dale (1926-2002) started in 1952 as a design consultant for Sandnes Woolen Mill. Her first sweater design for handknitters was a yound-yoked pattern called Eskimo. Round-yoke sweaters had been popular in the 1930s, and she brought the idea back with several variations.

In 1953 she started her own business, Lillunn Sport (now Lillunn Design) in which she organized handknitters to produce sweaters for export. At one time, Lillunn was the largest private knitwear exporter in Norway, employing 800 home knitters.

She went on to design 25 more knitting patterns for Sandnes. There were many popular sweaters, but one design eclipsed them all – the Marius sweater (1954). The sweater, based on Setesdal sweater borders, was named for and modeled by Marius Eriksen, a champion skier. Marius received 300 kroner ($39) for modeling and Unn received 100 kroner ($13) for designing the sweater, though she was also given a special discount on yarn from the factory.

Many Americans first learned about the work of Solveig Hisdal through an article in Interweave Knits in Spring 2000. The magazine featured two sweaters based on a flower painted inside an old trunk at a Lofoten Islands museum. Her book Dikt i Masker / Poetry in Stitches, shows how she studies the fabric patterns and combinations of materials in museum artifacts and brings forward their essences into knit garments for today.

Solveig Hisdal is the award-winning principal designer for Oleana A/S, a sweater company that considers its business to be as much about culture as it is about sweaters. The company was founded in 1992 by Signe Aarhus, Kolbjørn Valestrand, and Hildegunn Møster. For the first year, they used traditional geometric patterns. In 1993 Solveig joined Oleana with her vivid colors and rich floral designs. She often draws on the colors and shapes in the damasks and brocades used in folk costumes, as well as patterns in nature and in the art of other cultures. Often the patterns in her sweaters are traditionally Norwegian even though they aren’t always traditional knitting patterns.

Helping in the United States to spread the joy of Nordic knitting by offering traditional and adapted patterns, and helping to demystify traditional sweater construction are Elizabeth Zimmerman, Meg Swansen, and Ann Swanson to name a few.

From an early age, Arnhild Hillesland was interested in knitting – and in doing things her own way. The rebellion she showed as she learned knitting from her mother and grandmother proved to be an asset when she moved to the U.S. in 1986 and then purchased a yarn shop. She quickly realized that the Norwegian patterns available here were translated by non-knitters making them difficult to understand and use. She jumped into translating Norwegian patterns into English, making her own patterns, and teaching classes in how to knit Norwegian sweaters. She never failed to innovate if it made the product easier to knit or nicer looking. In 2005 she began the wholesale import of Rauma yarns, thus making Norwegian knitting even more available to eager American knitters.

Sue Flanders and Janine Kosel have been designing handknits and teaching knitting in Minnesota for more than twenty years. Authors of Norwegian Handknits and Swedish Handknits, they have visited museum collections and created knitting patterns that are adapted from historic pieces, as well as patterns that take designs to a new level. The Norwegian word flink describes Sue and Janine well. Flink is hard to express in a single English word. It means adroit, clever, creative, ingenious, skillful, resourceful, and gifted. Their joyful and artistic designs honor and celebrate history, tradition, and needleworkers.

Norwegian sweaters became outerwear in the early 1900s. Whether for warmth, beauty, tradition, identity, or art, Norwegian sweaters are now everywhere, for everyone, and for every day. “From Underwear to Everywhere: Norwegian Sweaters” is on view at Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum in Decorah, Iowa, until April 24, 2016.

Note:  The header photograph features a v-neck sweater knit by Ingrid Skramstad, Vang, Hedmark, Norway, for Olaf Skramstad, Ottertail County, Minnesota,  in the 1920s. Ingrid did not emigrate, but her brother Olaf did in 1910. She sent him care packages of her knitting, including this sweater with his initials.  (Vesterheim 2008.009.001 – Gift of Ingrid Henry)

Laurann Gilbertson is the Chief Curator of the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum and a tireless promoter of Scandinavian textiles.

Lila Nelson Celebration: Robbie LaFleur

IMG_0050I know I am speaking for many of my friends, and all the current and past members of the Scandinavian Weavers Interest group when I mourn the loss of our fabulous friend and mentor, Lila Nelson.

Lila’s reputation preceded my friendship with her.  When I was in college I saw her weaving displayed somewhere, and it included a cushion-sized tapestry piece in a traditional Norwegian weaving pattern called skybragd.  I had read about that pattern, and the fact that it was so difficult to do well, as if no modern-day mortal could weave it.  Lila did, and I was in awe. At the time I never imagined that I would come to know Lila so well.

Her weaving was a source of great joy in her life.  If anyone here saw the enormous number of rolled-up tapestries stored in the couch in her living room, you would know what I mean.  During all the years she attended the Scandinavian Weavers Study Group meetings, everyone in our group was constantly amazed at the new work she consistently produced.

Lila helped us with our work, too.  She always found something important to say in response to pieces that were displayed at our monthly “show and tell” sessions.  Her remarks were important in that they were always kind, and delivered in a way that was supportive. You could show a sample or a first-time attempt and Lila would find the good and important in that effort: that the color choice was good, or how a different choice of warp would change the stiffness of the piece or enable you to cover the warp better.  The point is that she had deep knowledge of techniques, a discerning and experienced eye, and a true desire to help her friends improve and be inspired to continue.

In her own tapestry weaving Lila was able to tap an eternally youthful and open part of her soul. She combined the universal and personal in her work.  Few people could weave a scathing and horrible Abu Graib image, and then follow by a girl with braids, carefree on a swing.  Once I visited when an angular abstract image was on her loom.  Look, she told me, I thought the image was only abstract.  But when she reached a mid-point in the weaving she realized she was weaving the broken beams of the collapsed I-35 bridge, which was quite close to her home. (I have tried to find this piece, but I don’t know where it is.)

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She never stopped learning and experimenting.  One year she told me about her intention to learn more about the language of abstraction, which to my mind, she already used to great advantage.  Another time she was enthusiastic about switching to red warp in her tapestries.  It didn’t make a difference in the completed pieces, because the warp was covered, but the red she saw during long hours at the loom made HER happy.

In addition to Lila as a weaving mentor, she showed me how to live a gracious and sensible life in so many ways.

She was a supportive and loving wife to her husband.  She didn’t feel the need to collect things, but didn’t mind that their house contained boxes and boxes of Marion’s crazy crocheted hot pad holders, for example.  I keep that in mind as my husband keeps buying new and old vinyl records.

She kept making surprising decisions, which in retrospect made so much sense.

Many years ago she announced at our Scandinavian Weavers meeting that she was just going to concentrate on her tapestry weaving and was no longer going to participate in our monthly meetings.  I think we all sat at the table, stunned.  How could we possibly continue without her?  But it was OK; our group has thrived. Each Christmas, including this past Christmas, we continued the tradition of celebrating in December with Lila.  The past few years the gathering has been held in the party room at Lyngblomsten.

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A photo from a pre-Lyngblomsten year. Lila had so many wonderful objects in her home, particularly during the holidays, like the best-possible museum you could visit.

One year she announced she was going to sell her car; it was time to stop driving.  Later she said she was going to move to the assisted living facility at Lyngblomsten – that was her own, sensible decision.  And not only that, she was going to stop weaving and sell her loom.  I felt bereft that she would no longer be weaving, but she looked forward to another chapter, a time to read and write.

When I visited Lila at Lyngblomsten, she was always gracious and so pleased that I came, even when I felt she could have chastised me for not coming more often.  She had a way of making you feel that she has been doing well, but now that you are here, everything is great.

A warm and welcoming tableau in Lila's room at Lyngblomsten

A warm and welcoming tableau in Lila’s room at Lyngblomsten

She always asked about the Weavers Guild and the Textile Center.  Is there anything new at the Guild? Always a gracious hostess, she would ask if I would like a glass of wine. Since it was usually about 2 pm when I visited, there weren’t many occasions in the last years to share wine with Lila.  However, we did both drink a little wine at the festive book launch here at the Weavers Guild in May, Lila’s last outing.

Lisa Torvike and her husband Neal were so great about getting Lila out; here are Lisa and Lila at the "Nordic Roots" exhibit opening in Dassel, MN

Lisa Torvike and her husband Neal were so great about getting Lila out; here are Lisa and Lila at the “Nordic Roots” exhibit opening in Dassel, MN

When I finished a new piece of weaving, I loved to take it to Lila for appreciation. I’ll miss that.  I’ll miss Lila.  And tonight I’ll drink a little red wine in her honor.  Skål to Lila.

Addendum:  Lila loved travel and life experiences, and wove them into her work.  After she visited the polar bears at Churchill, Manitoba, several wonderful tapestries resulted.

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lila-postcard

The Vesterheim postcard – I love this one

Robbie LaFleur is a weaver, writer, and editor in Minneapolis.