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Norwegian Tapestry in the Post-War Years

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

Honoring Norway with monumental tapestries

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

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

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

Magnificent tapestry for Oslo’s City Hall

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

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

Tapestry makes headlines

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

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

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

Monumental work with woven design

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

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

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

“We can do this!” declared Kielland.

The Else Halling Era of large-scale tapestries

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

Unveiling a dream

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

Female artists and the St. Hallvard tapestry

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

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

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

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

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

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

Newspapers pay tribute to the return of guardhair

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

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

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

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

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

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

Excited press

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

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

Artist + Craftsman = Sacred Work

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

Meeting with Else Halling

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

A tuft of wool in hand

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

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

Naturally dyed spelsau wool.

A small woman with immense power

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

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

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

Else Halling’s work notes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Art Weaving in Valdres: Part One of Four

By Karin Mellbye Gjesdahl 

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

Only a Fraction of Old Textiles Remain

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

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

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

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

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

Historical Use of Textiles in Homes

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Were some of the textiles painted cloths?

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

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

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

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

Christmas Cloths

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bed coverings mentioned in estate records

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Textiles Were Used at Funerals and Christenings

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

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

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

Bench Covers Were Common

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

Examining Textiles that have been Preserved

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

Art Weaving in Valdres: Part Two of Four

The following is part two of an article by Karin Melbye Gjesdahl, “Weaving in Valdres” [“Vevkunst I Valdres”] published in Valdres Bygdebok, Vol. 5, 1964, pp. 27-35 and 636-637. (A bygdebok is a compilation of local history.) This section describing seven large tapestries connected to Valdres, and the postscript about the Leine Tapestry, were translated by Lisa Torvik in 2021.

Laurann Gilbertson, Curator at Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum, gets occasional inquiries about the historical Norwegian Leine Tapestry, woven in the 1600s and described in this essay. According to museum records, in the 1920s when the collection was at Luther College, the owner of the Leine Tapestry lent it for display at the museum. However, the owner was convinced that it was woven in the 11th century, and when staff at the museum more appropriately dated it in the 1600s, she was unhappy and took back the tapestry.  As you will read below, the tapestry was eventually sold “to a man in New York.” Where is it now? 

Preserved textiles are more abundant as we approach the 1600s.  It is then that Flemish or tapestry weaving enjoys tremendous growth here in [Norway.]  There is great disagreement as to what extent Flemish weaving occurred here in the Middle Ages, and whether it has been a continuous tradition from then to the Flemish weavings of the Renaissance era.  The only surviving medieval weaving in Flemish technique we have, the Baldishol tapestry, probably dates from around 1200.  Doubt has also been expressed as to whether the Baldishol tapestry was actually woven in Norway.  It has been called a “rare bird” in this country.  (Marta Hoffman,  A group of looms in Western Norway, pg. 40.) But of course it is entirely random as to what has been preserved of medieval textiles.  We will leave that question open for the moment, as things may yet turn up which change the picture.  We can only establish that under the influence of European tapestry weaving, tapestries were woven in a vertical format for the upper classes here in [Norway] at the end of the 1500s.  And this influence then probably spread from the estates of officialdom to other rural areas where tapestry weaving blossomed fully in the 1600s and beginning of the 1700s, primarily in the valley of Gudbrandsdal.

In comparison to the approximately 1200 tapestry works which are registered here in [Norway], the ca. 47 pictorial weavings from Valdres might seem relatively few.  But besides Trøndelag, Valdres is the district outside of Gudbrandsdal which has preserved the most works in tapestry.  How much of this work has actually been woven in Valdres, and how much was imported from other districts, is difficult to determine today. The motifs are largely the same as we find in our other tapestries, and we can demonstrate connection in the weavings with Gudbrandsdal, western Norway and in part also those from Trøndelag. But we also find distinctive features which may indicate that the weavings in tapestry technique have been woven in the [Valdres] valley.

The majority of the surviving material consists of pillow and cushion covers, but there are also 7 large tapestries which are attributed to Valdres in origin.

One of the most favored motifs in our tapestries is the story of the “three holy kings” [Three Wise Men or Magi] and their adoration of the Christ Child. Four tapestries from Valdres have this motif in two different formats.  The motif itself is frequently used throughout Christian art and is known from the early Middle Ages. The tale of the Three Wise Men from the East is a story which very early on appealed to the imagination, and which in the folk, and for that matter the religious, tradition was endowed with details which do not appear in the gospels.  “From Saba came the kings three” we sing in an old Christmas hymn from the 1400s.  Here in Norway we find the motif already carved on the Dynna-stone in Hadeland, which probably dates from the 11th century; on the reliquary casket in the Hedal stave church from ca. 1200; and in textile art from the embroidered fragment of cloth from Høylandet church in North Trøndelag, dated to the end of the 1100s, to name a few examples.

In the 1600s we see the motif among others painted in a frieze in the Eidsborg church in Telemark, dated 1604, where each of the kings on horseback, wearing Renaissance clothing, are framed within their own arch-shaped field, and where the frieze design leads us to think of the long, narrow tapestries of the Middle Ages.  We also see similar arched framing depicted in later painted Swedish tapestries.

We don’t know what was the direct model for two nearly identical tapestries from Valdres, one in the Nordiska Museet in Stockholm, and the other in private ownership in the U.S.A., (fig. 6). 

Fig. 6.  Tapestry from Leine, Vang [in Valdres.]  Private collection, U.S.A.

This tapestry was in the collection of the Nordiska Museet, but is now owned by the Norsk Folkemuseum. Details here.

The frieze-format is abandoned, the tapestry has been given the characteristic vertical format of the Renaissance and the three riders and adoration scene are each set in their own rectangular field.  It has been pointed out that the division of the back of a seat of honor or throne into rectangular panels might be the inspiration for this composition.  On our tapestries, the four fields are separated horizontally by a band with inscription, edged with a hatched border, and vertically with a double banded braid on each side of a border with stars and crosses. In all four fields there are buildings in the background and a stylized presentation of a tree on one side. The Magi have crowns on their heads and are dressed in Renaissance-style clothes with knee breeches and ruffed collars.  Two of them wear capes. The position of the horses varies from field to field, but all have short, brush-like manes, bound tails and the characteristic rigid stance we know from other depictions of riders in our folk art. In the upper right field sits Mary with the Child in her lap and the Magi kneeling before them. In all the fields the star shines against a deep blue sky. And otherwise the entire space is filled with flowers, leaves, stars and different types of ornamentation. A broad border consisting of a meandering vine with eight-petaled roses surrounds the tapestry, a border that appears in a great many of our tapestries.

The colors are mainly limited to red, blue, green, gold and white, with edges in natural black.  Both tapestries are adorned with an unreadable inscription and in the upper right corner “ANNO” and a year which no doubt should be read as 1625. It is remarkable that we know of eight almost identical tapestries which all bear the same year, and of which a number present the motif in the same way. All of these eight tapestries are so similar that they probably were created by the same hand. Now, as Thor Kielland [1984-1963, art historian, museum researcher and director and author] says in his book Norwegian Tapestry [Norsk Billedvev], it is very unlikely that the same weaver or weaving workshop could have woven eight such tapestries in the course of one year. It probably can be explained that the tapestries are copies of an older work which was dated 1625, and that these were woven sometime later. The inscription on the horizontal band also indicates that the weaver was not literate. Even if these inscriptions are read backwards, which often must be done because the weaver has the back side of the work towards herself as she weaves, no real meaning is discernible. The execution also feels somewhat systematic and stiff, as is often the case in our tapestries when the motif is copied from tapestry to tapestry.

Of the approximately 21 “Three Magi” tapestries in a quadratic composition that exist today, 9 are of determined origin:  5 are from Gudbrandsdal, 1 from South Trøndelag, 1 is from Sogn, and then we have these 2 from Valdres.   It is most likely that even these last two must have originally come from Gudbrandsdal.  Their color tones are quite close to other weavings from Gudbrandsdal.

The only information about the Valdres tapestry in the Nordiska Museet [Stockholm, but now in the collection of the Norsk Folkemuseum] is that it was purchased in 1874 in an art dealership in Kristiania [now Oslo.]   The U.S.A. tapestry was part of an exhibition at Luther College, Decorah (Iowa) in the 1920s. (Tora Bøhn, Silver tankards and tapestries of Norwegian origin in the U.S.A.  Nordenfjeldske Kunstindustrimuseum (Trondheim)  Yearbook 1950 fig. 11 [Sølvkanner og billedtepper av norsk opprinnelse I U.S.A.  Nordenfj. Kunstind.mus.  Årb. 1950])  This tapestry belonged to Mrs. Ingeborg Stende, née Leine.  She came from one of the Leine farms in Vang [in Valdres] and had received the tapestry from her father. She took the tapestry with her to America in 1871. As mentioned before, she related that this tapestry was lent out for funerals in her rural [Valdres] community. According to family tradition it was also used for a time to wrap the family silver (Valdres Union’s Christmas magazine 1926 [Samband julenummer 1926]). The present location of this tapestry is unknown.

The motif of the Three Magi also appears in another form in tapestries.  The tapestries we have discussed with their symmetric and well-balanced composition are clearly influenced by Renaissance art.  The other group, where the entire design is pressed together within an oval frame, is presumably following a Baroque model.  We often encounter such round or oval compositions within the Baroque, which was the reigning art form here [in Norway] in the last half of the 17th century.  Animals running along the oval frame that surrounds the center picture are also common in pictorial art of this period.  For example, we find them on carved tankards from the 1600s, but they also appear earlier during the 1400s, e.g. on decorated porcelain and brass dishes. 

This alternate Three Magi motif can be observed in 2 tapestries from Valdres.  Again we find the Magi/kings on their horses in the same characteristic positions as on the previous tapestries, and beneath them Mary with the Child.  A stylized tree borders the composition on one side.  The oval frame or band which surrounds it all appears to be rolled up at the top and bottom.  Around this band run animals, as mentioned, each of which is easy to identify, such as the fox with it white-tipped tail, the hare, the unicorn, the elephant and what is likely a bear.  There are several birds, and the one with the curved neck must be a pelican, which according to legend pecked its own breast to feed its chicks with blood.  On one of the tapestries, it has some red on its bill.  The uppermost animal with the snake-like hindquarters probably depicts a basilisk, a dangerous legendary creature which could kill with one naked look.  It is not easy to understand the connection between the Three Magi motif and these animals.  But it is worth noting that several of these same animals, with inscriptions of what they represent, appear as a frieze under the depiction of the Three Holy Kings in the Swedish bonad painting tradition.

The four corners of our tapestries are filled with winged heads of angels.  The entire background of the tapestry rectangles are filled with flowers, vines and small decorative figures.  This creates a somewhat motley, almost mosaic effect, but is at the same time a bit delightful with all these colors flickering before one’s eyes.  There are a number of examples of this design format of the Three Magi, and with small variations, they are quite similar. 

One of the tapestries from Valdres is now at the Nordiska Museet in Stockholm (fig. X) No other information about this tapestry is known except that it is originally from Valdres and that it was purchased in 1874 from an art dealership in Kristiania [Oslo].

Figure X

The other tapestry is at Valdres Folkemuseum (fig. 7). 

Figure 7. Tapestry from Leirhol or Remme, Vang. Valdres Folk Museum. Details here.

This tapestry is said to have been bought by sheriff Helge Thune at an auction on the Remme farm in Vang [Valdres] and later given to the museum.  Information available states that the tapestry was a part of a dowry that came to Remme from Leirhol [farm in Vang, Valdres.]  It is difficult to trace such claims today.  There is a record of inherited property from Remme in 1705.  No Flemish tapestry is mentioned in it.  On the other hand, a similar record of inheritance from Leirhol in 1701 lists a Flemish bedcovering valued at 2 rd.  However, it is quite unlikely that such a fine tapestry as the Remme-tapestry was not more highly valued than 2 rd.

The tapestry in the Nordiska Museet distinguishes itself from all the others in this group.  All the figures in the tapestry, including the angels and unicorns, are more naturalistic, not as stiff and stylized as on the other tapestries with this motif.  It is therefore probable that this is one of the oldest of this series and that it is closer to the original model, what we might call the source tapestry.  The palette of colors also varies somewhat from the rest.   It is true that the background is red, like the others, the horses are red or blue or white and the oval frame is gold, but there is a pale pink tone over the whole piece that we do not find in the other tapestries, those where a more brick red color dominates with inlay of gold, blue and green.

The most common motif on the border of these tapestries is the meandering rose vine shifting between red and blue eight-petaled roses on a pale red and blue ground.  This is also found on the tapestry from Remme.  The tapestry in the Nordiska Museet has a border on the longer vertical sides of opposing palmettos, actually pomegranates cut in two, and just a very narrow border with triangles at the top and bottom.

Thor Kielland explored the notion that this group originated in a Valdres weaving workshop since the tapestry believed to be the oldest came from Valdres.  But since four of the other weavings were determined to be from Skjåk and Lom [in Gudbrandsdal] and one from South Trøndelag, he decided that the group must belong to Gudbrandsdal after all, and also probably the one from Remme, though the one in the Nordiska Museet was possibly a Valdres variant of the motif based on its distinctive characteristics.

As far as dating goes, the year 1661 is woven into one of the Gudbrandsdal tapestries while the youngest piece in the group, which appears stylized and disorganized, is dated 1730.   As mentioned before, we cannot rely on these dates, but these do not seem improbable.  And while the tapestry in the Nordiska Museet must be an early expression of this motif, 1660 is certainly not too early to date it, as Kielland has done.  However, we will remain on the safe side if we date the tapestry from Remme at the end of the 1600s.   

Afterword regarding the Leine tapestry in USA

Valdres native Jøger O. Quale from Vestre Slidre, now in St. Paul, Minn., has given a lot of time and thought to finding out what happened to the valuable Leine tapestry.  He has relayed by letter dated July 26, 1964 this information, among other things:

Ingeborg Stende who owned the tapestry had lived in Ulen, Minnesota.  Quale traveled there with Knut Ødegaard and learned about an elderly lady with the last name Stende.  So he writes:  

She was a very fine elderly lady.  I asked if she was a daughter of Ingeborg Stende, but she was not.  She was the widow of John Stende, Ingeborg’s son.  She lived together with an older daughter.  Well, she knew of the tapestry.  Ingeborg’s son Thomas had taken care of it, she said.  He had died many years ago.  He had sent a photo and the tapestry itself around to various experts and academics.  Almost all of them believed it was made in Rome and came to Norway via Norwegian pirates.  Only one had written that was not as old as from 1025.  Thomas had finally sold the tapestry in the 1930s to a man in New York for $700. That was all she and the daughter knew of the tapestry, of which they had an unclear picture.  Ingeborg and John Stende came up to Ulen from Goodhue County and got homestead land there.”

That’s the way it can go with cultural treasures that come to the U.S.A.!  Quale deserves thanks for his research efforts.  The editorial board.

Editor’s note: This is the end of part two of “Art Weaving in Valdres.” Part three, which will be published in the November issue of the Norwegian Textile Letter, examines many smaller tapestries.

Nordic Notes, August 2021

Classes

The fall and winter classes from Vesterheim Folk Art School include great new offerings, both for in-person and online classes. Check out the weaving list and the fiber arts list. You could needle felt a fjord horse, like the one shown here, in Laura Berlage’s class

 

Video

Karina Siegmund is a Norwegian artist. She was born in Germany, and now lives in Stadlandet, Sogn og Fjordane, where she surfs year-round(!). From her website: “Karina Siegmund creates audio-visual tapestry installations, and her use of sound and light gives her audience an experience of patterns in motion. Her motifs are taken from nature, in the form of a stormy cloud-cover on the sky, falling water, or the surface of the sea.” Meet her in this beautiful six-minute film

In a short (20-minute) talk in the Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum “Collections Connections” series, Robbie LaFleur acts as a “billedvev design detective.” Focusing on tapestries owned by the museum, she describes how a few of the most common motifs in traditional Norwegian tapestry are honored and repeated over time. See: “Investigating Norwegian Billedvev: A Conversation with Robbie LaFleur.”

For fans of tablet weaving! The Swedish Sörmlands museum posted a video (44 minutes) on the tablet weaving of Sonja Berlin several years ago. See: Brickväva band med Sonja Berlin. It is inspiring to see her work and studio, and the instruction and tips are valuable. It has English subtitles. There is a shorter video on Icelandic double weave bands woven with tablets (13 minutes), but it does not include subtitles. 

 

 

 

 

Socially Distanced, Creatively Connected: A Special Juried Folk Art Exhibition Highlighting Pandemic Creativity

A Special Exhibit at Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum
July 2 to December 31, 2021

“2020 Bunad Mask” by Kathleen Almelien

Carrying forward the spirit and mission of Vesterheim Folk Art School, this exhibition includes  woodworking, rosemaling, knifemaking, blacksmithing, jewelry, weaving, and fiber art.

The artwork follows Norwegian folk-art traditions but also includes contemporary departures from the historical. Although the COVID-19 pandemic has caused many interruptions across the globe, creativity and the freedom of artistic expression has flourished, and the artwork that everyone submitted was inspirational.

The stories behind the artworks are equally interesting. The pandemic offered opportunities to learn a new skill, complete a project that was started some years ago, or celebrate family. Among the 70 pieces in a variety of media, textile makers were well represented. Enjoy their stories here, beginning with quilter Mike Ellingsen, whose piece won a Juror’s Awardcongratulations. A People’s Choice Award will be determined at the end of the show in December. There is plenty of time for a trip to Decorah to make your choice! 

Mike Ellingsen, Decorah, IA
Bergen Fretex 2018

The front of the quilt is pieced cotton fabric with a 100% cotton batting and a 200 thread count muslin back. 

Visiting friends just before the onset of COVID-19, I noticed a woven rutevev (geometric square weave) tapestry on their living room wall. It had been purchased at the Fretex (Salvation Army) store in Bergen, Norway, in 2018. I took a photo for future inspiration. The world then stopped. I designed a quilt based on the photo, and created it totally from fabrics I already owned – no new purchases! The quilting patterns are based on rosemaling designs.

A retired high school choir and drama director, I’ve been quilting for about 40 years. The second floor of our Decorah home is my quilt studio. I am a quilter, pattern designer, lecturer, and teacher – and Minnesota’s 2020-2021 Quilter of the Year.

Laura Berlage, Hayward, WI
Inspired by Rosemaling

This needle felted artwork uses hand dyed wool, from the sheep on my farm, on a felt backing and was inspired by Telemark rosemaling. 

My burgeoning online connections during the pandemic have not only drawn me into the Vesterheim community but also allowed me to connect with fellow instructors and enthusiasts. Vesterheim staff gave me the challenge of creating a piece inspired by some of the artifacts in the collection, and I delightedly partnered with rosemaler Patti Goke to learn about this amazing art form and translate it into felt.

I’ve been working in fiber arts since I was at least eight years old but took up needle felting more recently. The delicate art of the painting with wool invites exploration of techniques and imagery otherwise difficult to capture in fiber.

Robbie LaFleur, Minneapolis, MN
Baldishol Duck

This was woven with open warp transparent tapestry in the style of noted Norwegian artist Frida Hansen using Norwegian spelsau-sheep yarn.

On March 12, 2020, I had woven three inches of this piece for a summer exhibit at Norway House. The imagery includes design elements from the famous Norwegian medieval Baldishol tapestry, and a bird. Two figures in the old tapestry represent April and May. My wood duck represents spring. Would the show even happen? Yes! This duck will forever be tied to uncertainty, social unrest, masks, and social distancing.

I was educated in traditional Norwegian weaving at Valdres Husflidsskole in Fagernes, Norway, in 1977. I received my Vesterheim Gold Medal in 2006. I am coordinator of the Weavers Guild of Minnesota’s Scandinavian Weavers Study Group and publisher of the Norwegian Textile Letter.

Margaret Listug, Stoughton, WI
Shawl for a Sør-Trøndelag Bunad

This is wool yarn embroidery – satin stitch and outline stitch – on wool fabric.

I loved the vivid colors against the black wool. It gave me hope during the dark days of the pandemic and gave me the goal of getting it completed as a daily focus, not the news.

I have been embroidering since I was a child and making Norwegian bunader (national costumes) for over 30 years. I have a degree in Textiles and Clothing from the University of Wisconsin- Madison.

Sharon Moe-Marquardt, Henning, MN
COVID Relief

This is a pillow in rosepath using 16/3 linen warp and a warp of Norwegian Brodergarn and Swedish Faro.

The Scandinavian Weavers Study Group of the Minnesota Weavers Guild are weaving rosepath pillows and many had been using the looms at the Textile Center of Minnesota in Minneapolis. Since I live in greater Minnesota, I proceeded on my own. My interpretation came from a vintage pillow, but I gave mine bright colors as I sat in quarantine for three weeks.

I met Syvilla Tweed Bolson in the early 1990s. I had tried weaving krokbragd (boundweave) from a book, but ran into roadblocks. From my first lesson with Syvilla, I continued to take lessons from her and at Vesterheim with teachers like Lila Nelson and Marta Kløve Juuhl.

Ann Prochowicz, Trempealeau, WI
Wintertide Windows Scarf

This is a handknit “infinity” scarf. It was knit using fingering-weight yarn in a blend of 80% Merino wool and 20% nylon.

Design inspiration came from solitary winter walks in the early morning and late afternoon. Square motifs represent the windows of the houses I pass, as well as the grid-like pattern of the village streets. Sometimes the streets are intersected, hence the shift to diagonal triangles. The colors shift through the blues and purples of stormy winter skies. These motifs are isolated, yet connected.

I taught myself to knit almost 40 years ago, and have been designing for over 30 years. The Nordic influence is so very strong in knitting, and the geometric motifs carry over into other media that I work in, such as weaving, pastels, and sewing.

Rosemary Roehl, St. Cloud, MN
Autumn Delights

This is a wall hanging using the Monks Belt technique. I used Norwegian wool yarn on a linen warp.

I began weaving using the Monks Belt tie-up at the beginning of the pandemic. I hadn’t woven anything using this tie-up for some time. NOW I had plenty of time to redress my loom. I was weaving for myself and continued exploring different combinations of color and patterns until I received my first vaccination on January 18th. It was then time to switch to a different technique and tie-up.

I have been weaving since 1979 after my first visit to Norway and am self taught in the Norwegian tradition. I first entered the National Norwegian-American Folk Art Exhibition in 1983, won my first ribbon in 1986, and won my Gold Medal in 1992. I am a retired teacher.

Beth Rotto, Decorah, IA
Four Decades to Bloom Hooked Rug

This is made from both recycled wool clothing (for the flowers and leaves) and new wool (for the background) on a burlap backing.

Back in the 1970s, I decided to try rug hooking. Esther Miller of Decorah encouraged me, but as sometimes happens with a too-big first project, at some point it was set aside. It was rediscovered in 2020, the perfect thing to do in lock-down. Although not your usual Nordic craft, there are many Norwegian Americans who do it, and making rugs from old clothes is a long-standing tradition in many Norwegian homes.

Like Mom & Grandma, I’ve worked with fibers since childhood, mostly knitting but also dabbling in weaving, klostersøm, rug braiding, felting, and dyeing. When laid off in March 2020, and my music gigs were cancelled, I unearthed some unfinished handwork.

Marit Nelson, White Sulphur Springs, WV
handlinger

This is an appliqued art quilt inspired by Telemark rosemaling. The applique is recycled silk tie material. The background is wool suiting fabric.

I was in a fashion design program in New York City when the pandemic began. I was supposed to have my first fashion show in May. I had collected hundreds of old neckties to repurpose into garments. I started making art quilts with the material, since the fashion show was cancelled. This quilt was inspired by Telemark rosemaling. The phrase handlinger speaks to making your own happiness, because it won’t just happen.

I have always been very interested in my Norwegian heritage and have also always been an avid crafter. Naturally, the two interests collided and I started to teach myself rosemaling when I was around 10 years old.

[Editor’s note: The phrase on the quilt translates to: “Luck isn’t something that already exists; it is created by your own actions.”

Shan Rayray, Puyallup, WA
Spring Tablecloth

This tablecloth is worked in hardangersøm or Hardanger embroidery. DMC pearl cotton threads in pink and white on white Hardanger 22-count fabric.

I wanted to make a tablecloth for entertaining my Norwegian friends. I found this design in a German Hardanger embroidery magazine. I took their basic design and made it my own by changing the stitches of the framework, adding in design to the center squares, extending the center design edges, and adding in more detail to the hem.

I’ve been doing hardangersøm since I was a young girl. I learned from my great-great Aunt Barbro when she visited from Stavanger. She spoke no English, only old Norse. She taught me the traditional way to learn: watch and repeat.

Maree Hampton, Minneapolis, MN
Returning to Finish the Fana and Feel Loved

The Norwegian Fana sweater was knit on circular needles with worsted weight yarn with steeked armholes.

With lockdown, stress ensued. Knowing knitting calms the mind, I eagerly took to my needles. As pandemic projects became popular, I turned to finish a sweater. My mom died of a stroke in 2017. While by her side, I reached to knit my Fana project. Tears streamed down and were absorbed in the wooI. Swallowed by profound grief, I put it aside. Lockdown allowed me to finish and feel the love of my mom.

I’ve knit for 30 years. My cousin, Åshild, taught me to knit when I lived on a farm near where my great-grandparents were from. My desire to knit was driven by my love of Norwegian sweaters, hats, mittens, and my Norwegian heritage (mom’s side).

 
Winnie Johnson, Mesa, AZ
Rose Path Rug
 
This “rag rug” is made with 8/4 cotton carpet warp threaded in a rosepath design and cotton sheeting for the weft. I experimented with a variety of treadlings.
     
On recent travels to Scandinavia, I’ve purchased a number of weaving books and photographed a number of rugs on the floor of various museum buildings. When the pandemic hit, I put a long warp on the loom and experimented with rosepath designs. This rug contains a number of designs from photos and books.
 
I’ve been a rug weaver for several decades, but until recent travels in Scandinavia introduced me to different styles, I had not varied my construction methods. I’ve recently added rep weave and rosepath designs to my repertoire.
 
Lisa Torvik, Saint Paul, MN
Langskip for Atle (Long Ships for Atle)
 
This is a transparent hanging of 16/2 line linen warp with inlay of line and tow linen and securing shots of line linen. The technique is similar to tapestry, but with finer yarns. 
 
Late in the winter of 2020, I set up my loom for my piece for the Baldishol exhibition at Norway House in Minneapolis, and started weaving in early March. I needed a test piece and also wanted a gift for a Viking-loving relative in Norway, whom we were to visit. Alas, we could not travel, and his Viking reenactment trip to Iceland in summer was also canceled, so I was inspired to make him some ships.
 
My mother introduced me to weaving, and as a teenager I took a class from Lila Nelson. A trip to Norway in 1970 and working at Valdres Folkemuseum in 1972 piqued my interest. I spent 1974 in weaving school in Norway and brought home my loom.
 
Kathleen Almelien, Washington, IA
2020 Bunad Mask
 
The midband “O” is a 13-strand pickup weave of an åttebladsrose or eight-petal flower symbol for the sun. The “X” is known as St. Andrew’s cross and was believed to deflect evil before it entered the body. The edge patterns are from West Telemark.
 
Our family celebrated a June baptism during 2020. A mask was required of the ten people who could attend the church service. Norwegian tradition requires the wearing of a bunad (national costume) to this celebration. My bandweaving unified all requirements of all ages by making a bunad mask. The XOX motif is repeated to confuse the virus from entering our lives.
 
I am an artist who searches for visual connections and meanings. I married a Norwegian, this fact became a lifelong research into Norway, family, food, history, crafts, and habits. Retired after 44 years in teaching, I have become a band weaver.
 
Roger Buhr, Decorah, IA
     
 
“Nativity Scene with Dog and Cat” and Starring Roses,” are done in hedebosøm or Hedebo needlework.
 

My wife has over 200 nativity scenes in a variety of mediums. I wanted to make one for her collection using hedebo needlework. It was a creative challenge while waiting out COVID-19.

I made 36 rose ornaments for our Christmas tree and decided to try using the pattern in a doily. I also wanted to incorporate black thread which is difficult to see and work with in needlework. It was something I could do evenings while homebound because of the pandemic.

I am a retired Lutheran pastor. I began working with hedebo needlework in 1985, and have done it steadily since I retired in 2000. I enjoy creating new patterns and pieces, so it is a way of expressing my God-given gift of creativity.

Symbolic Motifs in Norwegian Coverlets

By Laura Demuth

Any time I have the opportunity to view traditional textiles, I am amazed at the care, skill and creativity evident in everyday household items. Even the simplest items were often invested with added beauty and design.  Norwegian coverlets offer an especially rich example of both the weaver’s skill and creativity.  At a time when homes were heated from a central fire causing the walls to be covered with soot, displaying a textile on the wall was an unlikely option. Given the prolonged Norwegian winters, the bed coverlet was a necessary textile. It also afforded the weaver a large space to fill with colors, design, borders and possibly even a name and date.

Traditional Norwegian bed in the collection of Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum

Covering only the top of the bed, the traditional Norwegian coverlet was far smaller than the modern bedspread in that it did not drape down the sides or bottom of the bed. Also, traditional beds were much smaller than modern beds. The average size of a coverlet was four by five feet. If the weaving needed to be wider than the available loom, the coverlet was woven in sections and stitched together after it was removed from the loom.  Coverlets were commonly woven on a linen warp with a wool weft, but occasionally the warp was made with a tightly spun twp-ply wool yarn.  The wool could be dyed with natural plant materials such as birch leaves, club moss, northern bedstraw, woad or a variety of lichens. 

 

Rutevev, or square-weave, is a technique often found in traditional Norwegian coverlets. In Sweden, this technique is known as rolakan. The earliest examples of square-weave covelets in Norway date from the seventeenth century, but the tradition is likely far older. Examples of the technique can be found in Sweden dating from the eighth and ninth centuries. The coverlet design often included borders at the top and bottom of the piece; the borders did not necessarily match. Rows of larger motifs often filled the center of the coverlet, divided from one another by small border designs. Some border designs involved tapestry techniques (discontinuous wefts) while in others a single weft moved continuously from selvage to selvage. The designs were created using four to five colors, often red, black, white and gold. Blue and or green yarn could be added in place of the black. In addition to coverlets, the rutevev technique was used for carriage robes, bench covers, pillows and rugs. (1) 

Rutevev coverlet. Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #lc1626

Like tapestry, rutevev is weft-faced and involves discontinuous wefts, meaning that several wefts are needed to cover the width of the warp. Unlike tapestry in which the weaver may choose to build up one color area at a time, the pattern in rutevev is built up one row after another and woven across the entire width of the textile. Typically, adjacent blocks are joined or interlocked as the weft travels across the warp in one direction only, resulting in a reversible textile. For items such as rugs that require a very durable structure, the weft yarns can be interlocked as they move across the warp in both directions. This double interlocking technique results in a ridge forming between the blocks and produces a textile that is not reversible. 

While a variety of design patterns can be found in traditional Norwegian coverlets, several motifs appear with great regularity: the eight-petaled rose, the cross, diamond, knot, lily and heart. In her excellent book “The Woven Coverlets of Norway,” Katherine Larson notes that all of these motifs stem from the Middle Ages, and can be found in the folk arts from Europe to the Middle East. (2)

 A favorite throughout Scandinavia, the eight-petaled rose is a symbol of renewal.  On coverlets, it  was often placed within the center of an octagon and arranged in rows or columns.

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #2016401087. This single-motif example and the others that follow were woven by Den Norske Vevere, a Norwegian weaving study group in Minneapolis, for a Midwest Weavers conference exhibit. 

Usually another motif such as a diamond or a cross was placed in the center of the rose. 

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum, Item #2016401057

Pairs of petals were sometimes joined into four, or the eight petals could be woven in alternating colors. Also,the points of the petals could be smoothed into a rosette. 

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #2016401088

Rutevev coverlet with eight-petaled roses and “lynild” or lightning borders. Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #1968022017

The eight-petaled rose motif can also be found in other areas of the folk art tradition including wood carving, as pictured here. 

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #lc1191-6

The cross motif is widely found in many cultures and predates the advent of Christianity in Norway. Understood to be a protective symbol, the cross was often woven into pick-up bands used to swaddle infants. On rutevev coverlets, the cross could be the central motif of a coverlet, or it could be placed around or within other motifs. The motif could be expanded by adding a cross bar to each of the arms of a central cross, Additionally, the four arms of the cross could end with a diamond motif. 

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #2016401061

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #1986033001

The knot motif has been part of the Norwegian textile tradition since the time of the Vikings. Katherine Larson notes that “it is likely that the motif, referred to as valknute in Norwegian, was associated with the powerful Norse god, Odin, or Valfader (father of the battle-slain), who presided over the mythical Valhalla and the Valkyrie. Folk belief held that magical properties inherent in the intricate knotwork designs would provide protection from evil powers”(3)

The knot motif consists of a varying number of hollow squares that intersect on the corners. 

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #2016401060

The lily motif is commonly associated with the Virgin Mary. It has been found in Norwegian folk art since the Middle Ages, although it may have been used earlier. On coverlets, it is often found centered in a diamond border. 

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #2016401062

Diamonds could be used as the central motif in a coverlet, or they could be used to frame other motifs. Woodcarvers also used the diamond motif in their work.

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #lc1207-4

In addition to rutevev, the double-weave technique also lent itself to clear, central motifs on coverlets. Katherine Larson suggests that the double-weave technique “probably spread from China, where a type of double-weave was known as early as 200 B.C., to India and Persia and thence into the Mediterranean countries and Russia. Following the trade routes up the rivers of Russia and Eastern Europe, the double-weave technique probably arrived in Scandinavia by at least the eleventh or twelfth century if not earlier” (4). The heart motif often appears on double-woven coverlets as two opposing hearts that meet at their tips. Portions of the eight-petaled rose can often be found framed by the opposing hearts, as seen in this example. 

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #lc1585

Hearts were often included in other folk art traditions as seen in the example of woodcarving.

Photo: Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Item #1995004015-3 

Once you have become familiar with the various motifs typically found in Norwegian coverlets,  it is possible to have a greater appreciation for the color, design and creativity found in these textiles. The language of the motifs communicates the intention of the weaver to offer protection, well-wishing and renewal to all who one day may rest warmly under the coverlet. 

1. Stewart, Janice S. The Folk Arts of Norway. Dover Publications, 1972
2. Larson, Katherine. The Woven Coverlets of Norway. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2001. 
3.  Ibid
4.  Ibid.

Laura Demuth lives on an acreage with a small flock of sheep, a llama and a dye garden. Because her home is only eight miles from Vesterheim, the museum has proven to be a continuous source of inspiration. Rutevev has lately become one of Laura’s favorite weaving techniques.

 

Lisa Hammer’s Remarkable Life and Unusual Rug

By Robbie LaFleur

Norwegian-born Lisa Hammer passed away in South Dakota in 1998 at the age of 96. Later her family donated a piece she wove to Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum–a straightforward, lovely, long utilitarian rug with simple stripes. But this rug was woven with an unusual material. It is emblematic of an industrious, accomplished, strong-willed woman who faced family displacement, scarcity, and war. 

An 11′ rug woven by Lisa Hammer in Norway before 1943, held aloft by Laurann Gilbertson and Jan Mostrom. Read further to learn about the unusual material used for the rug.

Early years in Norway

Lisa Hammer grew up in a small fishing village on the Klungseth farm northwest of Namsos, Norway, in Nord-Trøndelag. As a young child, her parents became ill and she was sent to the farm of a childless aunt and uncle. She missed her mother terribly, but was never able to return home. Farm work was hard, including hauling firewood from the mountains on her back, and scraping through snow to find greens for the farm animals. At 18 she traveled to Oslo for teacher training, another lonely and difficult time. 

It was difficult to get a teaching job in 1925, but Lisa found a position in three remote villages in Finnmark in the north of Norway. There was a great deal of poverty in the area, which deepened during World War II. She was teaching in Skjøtningberg during the Nazi occupation. Lisa wrote, “There was very little food around. We fed the kids oatmeal soup and cod liver oil in the school and when the weather was bad, the fishermen stole the fish they had sold the day before. The kids were not fed the way they should be and many times it was a lot better to give them a bath and teach them history.”

Many towns in Finnmark were destroyed by the Germans at the end of the war. As the Nazis retreated, they threw grenades in each of the homes in Skjøtningberg, demolishing them in a day.

Skjøtningberg after destruction by the Nazis. Photo Owner: Finnmark Regional Library

The townspeople were told to take a boat south. Lisa wrote, “It was very bad weather that night so we couldn’t enter the boat…We roasted some sheep, fried them on the fire and we drank some beer. We milked some cows, packed silver in the shoes and boots so we could take as much as possible and next morning we went to the boat. It was a fishing boat—we were laying in the bottom of the boat. One man got crazy but we had a basket that was ready to go to the hospital if somebody should be sick…So we tied him up in that basket, it was the only thing to do. And every place we went by that day there was burning and burning and burning.” 

After this harrowing escape to the home of her parents in Nord-Trøndelag (northwest of Namsos), Lisa began teaching nearby. But the school director in Finnmark sent her a telegram, “Welcome to Finnmark. Here is your passport!” After a year of teaching in the small village of Vestre Jakobselv, she was asked to come to Kjøllefjord.  Prudently she asked whether there was a schoolhouse with desks, teaching equipment and books. “No,” the superintendent said, “but there are children.” 

Lisa wrote, “So I went to Kjøllefjord. 125 children met me on the way, and they asked, ‘When will school begin?’ They repeated that often.” She convinced the mayor to furnish eight carpenters, and a classroom was quickly built. Obtaining school materials was a problem right after the war, but they received a large box of school supplies from Canada and regular packages from a woman in New Jersey. Lisa lived in nearby building, and she described the units as pretty and clean. “There was no other entertainment besides what we made ourselves…In later times it has been said that we never had so much fun as in that time when we were living in the housing units and everyone was the same.” School supplies weren’t the only scarce items, as Lisa wrote, “It was my birthday in April, and I can remember that I got a darning needle as a gift from Jennie Olsen. That was a very useful gift at that time.”

Kjøllefjord in 1947. Photo: Andreas Vodahl. Owner: Troms and Finnmark County Library

In a few short years, Lisa was settled and accomplished. She had a house built, became the church organist, was promoted to school principal, and was elected as the first woman representative on the community governing board. But then there was a letter from America…

The South Dakota connection

Around 1951, Lisa began to correspond with a childhood friend, Adolph Hammer, who emigrated to Huron, South Dakota. He was a widower with 12 children. He asked whether she had ever considered coming to America. She had, and in the summer of 1952 she traveled almost 4000 miles to visit her friend. When she returned to finish her teaching contract in Kjøllefjord, she was married. 

A number of rugs that Lisa Hammer wove accompanied her when she returned for her new life chapter in the middle of America. The rug donated to Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum was the one with the most unusual weft material–not fabric strips, as in most rag rugs, but herring nets from her fisherman brother, Ebbe Klungseth, who fished along a fjord in Trøndelag.  Small fish floated through the nets that were later twisted and woven into the rug! Moss alongside a Norwegian fjord was collected and cooked to dye the colored wool stripes. Lisa’s herring-net rug was thrifty and creative.

Once in her new South Dakota home, Lisa must have missed weaving. She ordered a loom from Norway, but it remained unassembled in a box until she sold it in the 1980s. She was likely too busy with her new husband and twelve children. Only a couple of the children were still at home, but Lisa also grew large flower and vegetable gardens, worked full time as the head housekeeper at a local inn, and made and sold a LOT of lefse.

Once she learned English, she had many speaking engagements around the region. At venues like the Sons of Norway and a local international group, Lisa was an ambassador of Norwegian culture and food. The local newspaper published her Norwegian recipes and articles about her textile work. 

While she was not a weaver in America, her hands were never idle. She made many wall hangings in Norwegian klostersøm technique and mastered Hardangersøm embroidery.

She embroidered a large tablecloth in the Farmers Rose pattern to match her dinnerware, crocheted dozens of afghans, and crocheted lace doilies. Textiles were an important part of her lectures about Norwegian culture. Here she demonstrates spinning on a wheel. 

Lisa Hammer stood up to many challenges during her long, rich life. She loved her adopted country and told her granddaughter, “the last letters in American are ‘I can.'” After she died, the family found her woven rugs from Norway in a closet, meaningful mementos that she saved for half her life. Lisa’s herring-net rug is an object that holds history. It also typifies a trait common to so many Norwegian-Americans whose belongings enrich Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum–while loving their adopted country, the immigrants remember and celebrate the country and culture of their youth. 

Authors note: Thank you to Karen Seeman (Lisa’s step-granddaughter) and Dee Gunderson (Lisa’s stepdaughter) for information on Lisa Hammer’s textile activities.