By Melba Granlund
August 2018
For those of us fortunate enough to have traveled on some of the Vesterheim Textile Tours, we have been blessed by seeing and learning about the rich textile heritage of all the Nordic countries. We have marveled at, and been enriched by, the beauty of both historic and contemporary pieces seen in museums and artists’ studios — works of art created by old masters and new artists alike. We have also seen the tools and learned about the processes and techniques used to create some of these beautiful pieces.
Personally, I can’t get enough of the older pieces — those that were crafted using rudimentary tools like the warp-weighted loom, made before the invention of machines or mass production which eliminate the human component. I marvel at the skill of the weavers, some of whom wove with little or no light, using yarn the weaver first handspun with a drop spindle and then colored with natural dyes. Despite the fact that it would take several hundreds of hours to 1) grow the flax, process the flax, spin the flax into linen thread for weaving and then weave it, or 2) raise the sheep, clip the wool, wash the wool, card the wool, spin the wool, dye the wool and then weave cloth, these textiles were not only created for function, but were also beautiful. Threads and yarns dyed with woad blue or madder red in various weave structures (typically different types of twill) were common. Despite their simplicity, these looms allowed weavers to explore a variety of weave structures.
Warp-weighted loom history
While I have dabbled in many types of weaving, spinning and dyeing, my attention has been focused more recently on the warp-weighted loom and its use before, during and since the Viking era. This is perhaps due in part to my increased interest in history but probably also because I have recently begun playing a Viking age weaver in reenactment group settings and needed to construct hand-sewn garments of linen and woolen twill. This got me thinking more about how people would have actually done that, back in the day. A great example was that seen last summer at Sanglandet, the Iron Age, Stone Age, Viking Age and 19th century living history museum in Lejre, Denmark. In their Textile building we saw replications of period clothing made from cloth woven on the vertical and the warp weighted looms similar to those used during the Stone and Iron Ages. Outside the textile building, the dyer tended plants she was growing for extracting natural pigments to dye woolen yarn for weaving. Hanks of hand dyed yarn hung outside the front door of the building to show all the possibilities. She went into great detail about how she had developed different colors of red from the madder plant roots or blues from the leaves of the woad plant simply by adjusting the pH level either by the type of water she used or adding an acid like vinegar or an alkali like wood ashes. Inside the building we had seen the naturally dyed wool on both the warp weighted and the vertical loom. (See also: “Sagnlandet Lejre: Land of Legends (and Textiles”)
In the Viking era, warp-weighted looms were used to not only weave linen cloth for clothing, but woolen cloth for Viking sails and woolen vadmal (woolen twill) fabric used as trade goods or as currency to pay taxes or tithes to the church. Some think that the reason the Vikings took so many slaves as they conquered new territories was so there were enough people to care for all the sheep needed to produce enough wool and then to spin and weave all the wool needed to make sails for the large Viking ships (some estimate it took the fleece of 700 sheep to make one sail). Besides that, there were a lot of people to clothe, so woven cloth was required. The loom was also used to weave rya and the varafeldur (translated: “fur product”), which was for about 200 years the most traded commodity between the Vikings in Iceland and those in Norway. At the same time, the loom was also used to create pictorial weavings like that of the Överhogdal tapestries woven between 800-1100 AD.
Innovative modern loom weights
Coming to understand the importance of how much this loom played a part of everyday life for thousands of years, and for tens and hundreds of thousands of people, has really struck home. Weavers played an extremely vital role in keeping people clothed and fed and out of pauper’s prison. That’s why so many loom weights are found at archeological dig sites. Earliest evidence of the loom dates back to 7,000 B.C. in Jericho, Palestine, where loom weights were discovered lying in two distinct rows alongside of what had been the wall of a dwelling. Although the wooden parts of the loom had long since disappeared, the loom weights had not. As people of the Stone Age migrated north they brought the sheep and the warp-weighted loom with them. It reached Scandinavia around 300 A.D.
Designing a warp-weighted loom class
When I first learned how to weave on the loom, I knew I wanted to do more with this type of loom, and now I have. The prospect of teaching warp-weighted loom weaving came along with an idea I had about developing a curriculum for the Weavers Guild which would delve more deeply into historic textiles and how they were made. By using old looms and other handcraft tools, students would have an opportunity to experience a kinship to ancient weavers, spinners and dyers by carrying forward these older, traditional techniques. I shared the idea with two friends at the guild — fellow spinners and dyers — and it was settled. We would develop a program of classes and activities surrounding historical textile production, using only the tools and materials available prior to the Industrial Age. We dubbed ourselves “the ditch weeds and sticks committee” after a story one of them told a spinning student when the student complained she could not afford to buy a new spinning wheel. My friend’s reply was that she could teach her to spin using only ditch weeds (nettles) and sticks. Hence, the name. The idea was launched.
We met several times to discuss all the different avenues of exploration we could investigate. As the weaver in the group, I focused on weaving. The warp-weighted loom was an obvious choice. The only looms I knew of were at the Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum. We needed our own, so my next hurdle was to have some looms made. Many hours of research on line and countless emails and conversations later, structural plans were developed, and a very kind and skillful woodworker was identified. He agreed to make the looms, and even volunteered his time. He did so in honor of his wife, whom he said loved to spend time at the guild and who wanted to learn how to weave on this type of loom. All we needed to do was to pay for the materials. Deal. Done.
A few short months later, the looms were finished and we were ready — classes could begin. I’m happy to say the first class has just finished. The first group of brave souls (four women and two men) included a first-time weaver and some who had taken a small number of weaving classes — a perfect blend of skill levels and interests to try out the “new” looms. Some used purchased commercial yarn and others their handspun.
The first class was an exploration of the weaving tradition of the Sami peoples. Students were challenged to learn how to set up the loom and weave a small Sami blanket or rug. Here are some students with work in progress.
While they were weaving, we talked about the history and provenance of the loom and I read them Njal’s Saga. While very graphic, it gives you insight as to the mystery of how the loom and weaving on it was perceived in ancient times.
“See! warp is stretched
For warriors’ fall,
Lo! weft in loom
‘Tis wet with blood;
Now fight foreboding,
‘Neath friends’ swift fingers,
Our grey woof waxeth
With war’s alarms,
Our warp bloodred,
Our weft corseblue.*
“This woof is y-woven
With entrails of men,
This warp is hardweighted
With heads of the slain,
Spears blood-besprinkled
For spindles we use,
Our loom ironbound,
And arrows our reels;
With swords for our shuttles
This war-woof we work;
So weave we, weird sisters,
Our warwinning woof.*The term “corseblue” does not refer to the texture of the wool yarn being “coarse” but instead refers to the fact that “of course” the yarn was blue.
One student’s perspective on the class
Beth McLaughlin wrote:
Beth McLaughlin’s stone weights. An ancient tradition set against mid-century modern linoleum.
Reason(s) to take the Warp Weighted Loom class:
- Historic technique/technology
- Explore the magic of transforming thread into fabric
- Comradery
- Palatable immersion into weaving
- Fabulous instructor
- Welcoming/comfortable classroom environment
My initial reason for enrolling in the Warp Weighted Loom class was to explore an ancient and universal weaving method. Okay, and the rocks. Who could you not be intrigued by a fiber processing method that involves rocks?! The second, and equally compelling reason for enrolling is the opportunity to take a class from Melba Granlund. Her knowledge, enthusiasm, quickness to smile, laugh, and answer your questions, and her inexhaustible patience (second only to my own dear mother) encapsulates all the desirable traits of a great instructor. There was no way to lose with this combination./opportunity/class.
Our initial one hour meeting sparked the desire to either step up my spinning game or go shopping for the yarn required for the Sami Grene. With a brief introduction to the history of this type of “primitive” loom and a plethora of references to consult, the six of us were sent on our way. A few weeks later, with around four pounds of yarn in tow, the first class was on a rainy Friday – a great kind of day to spend indoors in a studio filled with light, windows, and inspiration all around (looms, yarn, books, more books, and fiber art on display.) We began the day with a step by step outline and hands on guidance with each step of the process. Loom set-up came first, which required partnering up to handle the wood components of six foot wide loom frames. Next we were given cut lengths of yarn and a small rigid heddle to weave the header which also served to measure the six foot warps. We had two color options for the warp.
Next we lashed our header with warps to the heavy beam. The beam was installed on the loom and we were almost ready to weave. Next came the rocks (or stones, if you prefer). There were buckets full of beautiful, smooth stones from which we selected twenty-two. We carefully tied the warps around the stones. The looms were then ready!
Melba had a wide variety of pattern options to share via hands-on samples and in multiple books. We spent the rest of the day formulating patterns that would work with our individual color choices for wefts and wrestling with selvedges that liked to creep in. For three wonderful days straight in a row we worked away, concentrating, conversing and only occasionally cursing (maybe that was just me) when we had to unweave, noticed the selvedge creep, or had to retie fallen stones. It was like a weaving bender weekend. The time in class flew by.
We, fortunately, were able to leave the looms set up in the room and had access to them throughout the week during the Guild’s hours of operation. It was a delight to arrive late in the afternoon on three different occasions and find fellow classmates weaving away and to marvel at the progress on all the looms. The house elves were clearly busy in this place.
Our last class was the following Saturday. We continued with our pattern explorations and an hour before the end of class we released the stones, unfurled the weaving, and cut the fabric off the looms. The variations in the (almost) finished products were wonderful to witness. While slightly exhausted, I was completely inspired to weave more using this type of loom and this style of weft-faced weaving. Next step, to search for stones!
Wonderful results of the class
The next Sami rug class is scheduled for Nov/Dec 2018. (Check for classes at the website of the Weavers Guild of Minnesota.) More classes are being developed for 2019 including a Sampler of Norwegian Coverlet Patterns and a Varafeldur course. If you have a flock of sheep, or know someone who does, weaving a varafeldur is a special treat.
Weaving on the warp-weighted loom is a meditative process. It’s only you and the loom. You learn about the loom’s idiosyncrasies – what works and what doesn’t. It allows a new weaver to get a real grasp of what weaving is all about. As a teacher, my goal is to not only teach the technique, but to do what I can to educate others to appreciate the beauty and uniqueness of our Nordic handcraft traditions so these skills and crafts are not lost or forgotten. Along with learning the techniques, students learn about the historical and cultural contexts in which the item was originally made. By using the old looms and other handcraft tools, students have an opportunity to experience a kinship to ancient weavers and handcraft artists by being able to carry forward these traditions. If students choose to continue practicing the old, traditional techniques, then I’ve done my job.
Melba Granlund is a Swedish handcraft artist and teacher who focuses on the historical Scandinavian folk arts of weaving, felting, nålbinding, wire jewelry making, spinning, knitting, sewing and embroidery. As a life-long learner, she has received instruction from masters of these handcrafts in the U.S. as well as in Sweden, Norway, Denmark and Finland. Melba strives to keep Scandinavian folk art traditions alive by teaching and sharing what she has learned with others. She is an instructor for the Weavers Guild of Minnesota, the Textile Center, and for other organizations and groups on request. She currently serves on the WGM Board of Directors and is a member of the Scandinavian Weavers Study Group.