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Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition (Introduction)

By Robbie LaFleur

Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition was an exhibition curated by Marion Nelson from Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum, in collaboration with the Museum of American Folk Art in New York City and the Norwegian Folk Museum in Oslo.  The exhibition of 180 objects was a collection of folk art either made in Norway, brought to America from Norway by immigrants, made by immigrants in America or created by contemporary artists in the Norwegian folk art tradition. The exhibition opened at the Museum of American Folk Art in New York in September of 1995. King Harald and Queen Sonja of Norway attended the opening, part of their first state visit to the U.S. A lavishly illustrated book with several invited essays was published in conjunction with the exhibit.

The exhibit then traveled for two years to The State Historical Society of North Dakota in Bismark, the Minnesota Museum of American Art in St Paul, the Nordic Heritage Museum in Seattle and ended at the Norwegian Folk Museum in Oslo.  

The exhibition included a wide span of folk art types—rosemaling (traditional Norwegian rose painting, wood carving. Textiles were well-represented, with beautiful examples of historical weaving and contemporary pieces to show how the tradition continued in the United States. Since most readers of the Norwegian Textile Letter didn’t attend the exhibition, and probably not many have seen the book, we obtained permission to reprint the photographic sections on geometric weaving and tapestry weaving, and the essay on folk dress by Carol Colburn. 

Geometric Textiles of the 18th and 19th Centuries

See the 11-page beautifully-illustrated section here. https://norwegiantextileletter.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/migration-geometric.pdf

Here is a bit more background about two of the weavers who wove modern pieces for the exhibit. 

Rutevev, a square-weave coverlet, by Jan Mostrom

Jan Mostrom wrote that she was happy to be chosen as one of the contemporary weavers.

It was a rutevev weaving inspired by a coverlet I saw at Little Norway near my home town in Wisconsin.  It is a nine cross pattern which I combined with a diamond made of many diagonal lines and a cross in the center.  I chose Norwegian yarns that I imagined were close to rather bright natural dyed colors in red, blue, green, gold and natural white.  The design had many color changes and many pattern rows had over 50 butterflies. It would take a generous hour to weave half an inch.  The main geometric pattern was bordered by pick and pick stripes and lightning designs.  I remember listening to many audio books as I wove in the rhythm of interlocked blocks.

It was very exciting for me to go to New York City for the first time and to be going to an opening of a show that included a piece of my work. The event was fun and exciting and all of the artists were invited to a dinner at a nearby restaurant after the opening. 

When the exhibition was in St Paul for three months, the Scandinavian Weavers Study Group set up a loom to weave krokbragd at the museum.  We would demonstrate every Sunday.  I have happy memories of several afternoons weaving and talking with people visiting the exhibit. 

Skillbragd coverlet by Liv Bugge

Liv Bugge, born in Norway, and now living in Norway again, had a beautiful skillbragd weaving in the exhibit. Liv has been interested in folk art, including for dancing, embroidery, and knitting, since she was a teen. She first learned to weave at teacher’s college in Oslo. When she moved to Wisconsin for several years, she continued her weaving exploration. She wrote,

Studying and reading about different Norwegian techniques was extremely important because I was so far away from home and yet surrounded by so much Norwegian heritage.”

“When we were living in the US I had plenty of time to weave, and I found this “skillbragd” technique very interesting.  I studied a lot of books and also old magazines from Norsk Husflid, so I’m more or less self taught in this technique while living in Wisconsin. Everything Norwegian got very important to me then, which I’m sure was the case for many of the immigrants.”

Liv wove several hangings in the traditional skillbragd technique.

Liv and her husband moved back to Norway, where she studied weaving again for a year, before returning to elementary school teaching for 15 years. “I now have a very nice studio with a stunning view of the mountains including Mount Gausta,” Liv reported. The skillbragd hanging from the exhibition still hangs in her office. 

See also these articles: Migration of a Tradition: Tapestry Images and Migration of a Tradition: Norwegian Folk Dress in America.

RETRO REPRINTS–A New Occasional Series in the Norwegian Textile Letter

By Robbie LaFleur

RETRO REPRINTS–A New Occasional Series

For its first two decades, the Norwegian Textile Letter was published only in print. The readership was loyal; there were nearly 300 subscribers before it became a digital publication in 2013.

It’s safe to say that most of the 1100+ current readers who are notified of each new issue haven’t read the early issues, so we are beginning an occasional series that reprints articles from the first decade (1995-2005). The new digital versions will include color photos, as opposed to the grainy black-and-white images of the early photocopied newsletters. The reprints will include updated and new information. Two articles from Volume 1, No. 2, January 1995, are included in this issue. An in-depth article by Lila Nelson, “The Ruteaklaer Tradition in Norway,” is enhanced with many photos. “For the Loom,” a short piece on a krokbragd technique, had no photos in the original. Now the technique is illustrated with photos of a beautiful hanging woven by Jan Mostrom. 

National Exhibition of Folk Art in the Norwegian Tradition

Due to the pandemic, the annual National Exhibition of Folk Art in the Norwegian Tradition will not be held at Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum this year.  (Sad news!) Normally, the August issue of the Norwegian Textile Letter includes wonderful photos of the entries. 

A short “Congratulations” paragraph in the September 1995 issue sparked an idea for a substitute. 1995 marked the 14th year of the National Exhibition of Weaving in the Norwegian Tradition. I will try to gather photos of pieces that were entered in the early years. 

In this paragraph, John Skare is congratulated for winning “Best of Show” with his “Segalstad #1 coat/hanging. 

“Segalstad #1” The material is primarily wool, but the collar includes a mohair blend. The sleeves and body were woven on one warp, and the collar on a separate warp. 

Segalstad #1 became part of a series, including a commissioned piece. The client came all the way from San Francisco to visit Nordic Fest. He saw John’s piece and after discussion, commissioned him to make a similar coat, but with a sash/belt in case he wanted to wear it. 

You can look forward to seeing more of John Skare’s entries from the National Exhibition early years in the next issue of the newsletter. And if any readers of the newsletter contributed to the exhibit before 1996, and have photos, please contact me

A Fun Fact from the First Year of the Norwegian Textile Letter

The Norwegian Textile Letter had a different name for the first year, the Norwegian Breakfast Club Newsletter. For many years, members gathered at Convergence, a national weaving conference–at breakfast. But within the first year, the members opted to change the name. From the September 1995 issue:

The Norwegian Breakfast Club met in July, 1995, in Prince George, British Columbia, during Frontiers of Fibre, the biennial conference of the Association of Northwest Weavers Guilds. That’s when the name changed to the Norwegian Textile Letter. Janet Meany wrote:

“Karen Casselman recommended that the name be changed so that it could more accurately convey the nature of the contents rather than appear as a collection of good Norwegian lefse recipes!”

 

 

Migration of a Tradition: Norwegian Folk Dress in America

By Carol Huset Colburn 

Originally published in Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition, Marion Nelson, Editor. New York : Abbeville Press, 1995. 

Read the essay here: https://norwegiantextileletter.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/colburn.pdf  Additional folk costume photos here: https://norwegiantextileletter.com/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/folk-dress.pdf

Carol Colburn looked back on the exhibit and the essay she wrote 25 years ago in this Q and A, May 2020. 

Q & A  – Robbie LaFleur and Carol Colburn 

Robbie: Would you like to say something about your memories of the exhibition and/or the book?

Carol: Marion Nelson and Lila Nelson were important mentors early in my career. In the mid-1970s, Marion asked this question of all his Art History students at the University of Minnesota – “What do you want to do with your life?” At that time, my answer was a bit ambitious – “Save the world’s textiles.” Hearing that, he suggested starting with Norwegian textiles and arranged an internship at Vesterheim Museum in Decorah, where he was also Director. There I began studying the collection while delving into a textile conservation project with Lila, Registrar and Curator of Textiles at the museum. With inspiration and guidance from Marion and Lila, I began to do research more specifically on Norwegian-American immigrant clothing, hoping to answer questions that arose from studying that collection.

Almost 20 years later it was a late night 1993 when I was awakened by a phone call from Marion, calling from NYC. Having completed meetings at the Museum of American Folk Art, the plan for a traveling exhibition Migration of a Tradition was coming together. For the catalog, he needed a commitment immediately for contributing an essay on Norwegian folk dress in America. I had most of the research already, from my work in the archives at Vesterheim and at the Norwegian American Historical Association. Marion and Lila would both help with editing and focusing my article to address themes Marion intended to explore in his curation of the exhibition. 

Viewing the exhibition in three of the museum venues reinforced for me the central theme of migration of folk art. Different perspectives on this theme emerged as it was presented and received in Minnesota, New York City and Oslo – more or less in reverse order of emigration from Norway. Marion’s curatorial focus on the people (the folk in folk art) who made this art hit home to me – each piece reflects an artisan’s aspiration, reaching across geography and time.

The exhibition opened first at the Minnesota Museum of American Art (Landmark Center location) in St. Paul. The Midwest is home for many of the contemporary artisans represented in the exhibit, so the opening was well attended by those folks, along with the eager public. Later that year at the Museum of American Folk Art in New York City, an international seminar offered the opportunity for everyone involved in developing the catalog and exhibit to gather and to expand on our topics in public presentations.  At the opening of the exhibition at the Norsk Folkemuseum in Oslo, I remember the reception spilling out from the galleries into the open air museum grounds, accompanied by musicians and tables of traditional foods. What could be better?

Aagot Noss wrote the essay which precedes my essay in the catalog, and I felt honored to be in the same publication. I am indebted to her work, which illuminates the translation of the language of clothing that happened in America. In the years between 1992 and 2011, I made about 15 research trips to Norway, always visiting with Aagot to discuss current projects. In her long career as Curator and then Head Curator at the Norsk Folkemuseum, she gave us knowledge of the history and meanings of Norwegian rural folk dress traditions with oral histories, film, collecting, and writing. A prolific author since the 1970s, after the summary essay written for this catalog, she went on to publish seven additional books between 1996 and 2012, documenting her detailed knowledge of the dress of specific Norwegian regions. 

Looking through the catalog again, now I am aware of what is not there. There is no essay specifically about woven textiles, although the items chosen for the exhibit included a rich selection of historical and contemporary weavings. Weaving in America and Norway is discussed within the essays by Marion Nelson and Albert Steen respectively. Lila Nelson would have been the logical author for an essay on weaving, but in this catalog what we have instead is her strong presence and knowledge of the Vesterheim woven textile collection as it is represented in illustrations and captions. Her fostering of weaving in the contemporary community of weavers has been recognized through her teaching at Vesterheim for many years, and included in the exhibition and catalog is an example of her own Vestfold weaving from 1987.

Robbie: Do you have comments on changes in the use of folk dress since you wrote the article?

Carol: In Norway and America my observation has been that interest in historical folk dress, Norwegian national costume, and each regional folk dress and bunad has increased in the last decades and remains strong in the 21st century. On both sides of the Atlantic, on the individual and family level, and still within heritage organizations in America, these handmade garments are treasured for the art and craft involved in their making, as well as the history and cultural associations embodied in wearing them. Increased ease of travel has increased awareness among Americans. For some, this travel throughout Norway leads to visits to Husflid (home craft) shops in Oslo or in small towns, where purchasing materials or completed garments is easy, if expensive. Expert embroidery and sewing instruction is available back in America. I have come to realize that “Saving the world’s textiles” can also mean passing on the skills required in their making. The recent flourishing of the teaching of craft in folk schools across the country provides an environment where these skills are sustained.

Robbie: Any follow-up that happened as a result of the publication?

Carol: I will relate a recent family story, which brought to mind the ideas in this article, and led me to understand the historical record in a very personal way.  Heritage on both sides of my family is from Norway, but I’ve never seen any old photographs of relatives wearing traditional dress, and I’ve known of no textile items that were handed down. Then in 2017 I received a question from my second cousin. Among her mother’s things she found a red wool women’s vest and two beaded pieces stored together, but it was not clear how they might fit together. 

Breastplate owned by Daisy Rood. Photo: Carol Colburn.

The vest had a hand-written label with the name Daisy Rood, our great aunt, born in 1891. In two generations, the recognition and meaning of this Hardanger-style set of pieces belonging to a Norwegian national costume had been completely lost. In fact, the three pieces together reflect very closely the garments depicted 1890s post card pictured in color at the start of this article. The vest, beaded breastplate and beaded belt were treasured enough to be handed down in the family, but their story was lost.

Postcard from Norway illustrating national costume, Ca. 1890s. Color postcards of this kind could have been an inspiration to Norwegian Americans who made their own costumes. The decorative designs in the beadwork appear to be drawn on the photograph for clarity. Carol Huset Colburn.

Although I can’t know for sure if my great aunt Daisy looked at this post card to make her Hardanger national costume, clearly she had worn the vest and beadwork together, perhaps for folk dance, or for other festive occasions. The Rood family was active in South Minneapolis Norwegian-American organizations such as Valdres Samband (a bygdelag organization), and Sons of Norway. I won’t know all the answers – but it was rewarding to piece together this small family puzzle, and to share this essay with my cousin. Maybe the essay will answer questions others have about the significance of dress as a reflection of heritage, among Norwegian-Americans or in the broader context within the mosaic of immigrant cultures in America.

Thank you Robbie and NTL for this project of re-publishing the catalog essays and photographs representing textiles and clothing from the exhibition. Now I am going to re-read the other essays in the catalog, revisiting the themes explored with a 21st century perspective. 

Recent resources to explore:

Digitalmuseum.no  A free database of artifacts from Norwegian and Swedish museums. Contains many images of folk dress, national costume, and other folk art.

Magasinet bunad (“The Bunad Magazine”) A publication in Norwegian language, issued twice yearly. Beautifully illustrated articles and ads showcase historical folk dress and current bunad traditions. Subscription available through Vesterheim Museum Store.

See also these articles: Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition (Introduction) and Migration of a Tradition: Tapestry Images.

RETRO REPRINT: For the Loom–Combination Double and Single-Point Krokbragd

Revisiting the Norwegian Textile Letter Volume 1, No. 2, January 1995

This short article featured a weaving draft, for krokbragd including both single and double points.  

For The Loom

Many of our members expressed interest in receiving drafts or weaving information that they can translate to their looms. From time to time we will include drafts. 

Combination Krokbragd. In this threading, traditional single and double krokbragd appear in the same draft. The woven piece appears to have a compressed border with a more exaggerated pattern area in the center. When using more than two colors for a motif the appearance becomes quite linear. Any of the motifs found on page 23 and 24 of Akleboka by Gauslaa and Astby can be threaded for both single and double krokbragd with pleasing results. I have not tried to expand the single motif examples on earlier pages of this book. 

This is a cryptic excerpt without access to the Norwegian book, and with no photos. Happily, Jan Mostrom has woven a combination krokbragd that illustrates this draft nicely. The draft above can be adjusted, depending on the width of the piece, and how many single points you would like at each edge. 

For this piece, Jan Mostrom used 12/9 swine twine @ 7.5 ends /inch, with a 15 dent reed sleyed every other dent. The weft was 6/2 Rauma prydvev.

Here’s a detail from the right-hand edge. You can see the shift from double-points to single points clearly. 

And because some weavers like to see the reverse side–here’s the BACK of the krokbragd. 

Thanks to Patty Johnson for reproducing the draft so it is legible, and thanks to Jan Mostrom for such a beautiful piece to illustrate the technique. 

 

 

Book Review–Hannah Ryggen: Threads of Defiance

By Sally Reckert

Courtesy of the British Tapestry Group, first published on their website in January, 2020.

Review: Hannah Ryggen: Threads of Defiance, 
by Marit Paasche

Thames & Hudson, 2019
288 pages
ISBN 9780500094099 hannah-ryggen-threads-of-defiance hardcover

In 2011 a bomb detonated in front of the “Highrise,” (the colloquial name of the government building Oslo), leaving Hannah Ryggen’s tapestry “We are Living on a Star” lying in a pool of dirty water, concrete rubble and shards of glass. Later the bomber, Anders Behring Breivik, went on to kill 69 people, most of them children, at a youth camp on the island of Utøya.

Hannah Ryggen (1894-1970) would have woven this horror as a monumental tapestry and ensured that it was hung in a public space in memory of these wasted lives. She was a Swedish/􏰗Norwegian artist whose tapestries were well 􏰗known and admired in her lifetime, and was recognised as a genius by her, mainly male, critics. Her large output of tapestry work was mainly publicly hung as she refused private commissions when possible. She exhibited internationally on a regular basis but fell into the unknown from the 1970s. Frustratingly the author, Marit Paasche, doesn’t cover this period and so tell us why. Perhaps she’ll write a second work on Ryggen?

The significance of Hannah Ryggen as one of the most important figures in the history of Scandinavian art has 􏰂􏰀􏰐􏰔only recently been rediscovered internationally, mainly thanks to Marit Paaschewho has studied Ryggen’s work for the past ten years. Ryggen’s rich􏰌􏰅􏰀􏰎􏰍 􏰉􏰇􏰏􏰊archive of news cuttings, photographs, sketches and letters 􏰇􏰀􏰈􏰂􏰉􏰃􏰅􏰄 informed Paasche’s work, whether radical political statements against fascism or against poverty􏰇􏰀􏰍􏰆 􏰕􏰂􏰓􏰅􏰉􏰆􏰔and cruelty and injustice in her own country, newly independent Norway. Using these sources, Paasche focuses on the period of Ryggen’s life that she shared with her husband Hans between the weaving of “Fishing on the Sea of Debt” (1933) and “We are Living on a Star” (1958). In “We are Living on a Star” Ryggen􏰔􏰌􏰌􏰅􏰀 has woven a naked man and woman lying within a large oval, the couple are encircled by a blue band binding and separating time, two babies lie either side of their feet; the family surrounded by the infinity of the cosmos. Ryggen explained her thinking behind the tapestry: “I chose the shortest route: woman man child. They meet on earth, star among other stars, why no one knows, where they come from no one knows. They are there together: life’s highest expression and purpose, and two children already on their way to continue on the same path.”􏰜

Responding to her grief at Hans’s death, Ryggen wove “We are Living on a Star” (1958) on a loom built by him. She had been commissioned, in 1955, by the Norwegian state to weave three monumental tapestries, to themes of her choice, to hang in the new government building, the Regjeringsbygget or Highrise designed by Erling Viksjø, whose novel sandblasted walls were the only other decoration.

There was another side to Ryggen’s life and work which illuminated everything she did, her closeness to nature, her respect and dependence on it and all other living things. “Us and our Animals” (1934) was woven in response to the necessary slaughter of her geese including her beloved Kakaleja: “I had ten geese. We slaughtered them all at once. I haven’t eaten goose since.” Unusually, for depictions of nature during this period, there is no sentimental romanticism. For the Ryggens on their small-holding, nature was very real. In 1948 Malmö Museum bought “Us and Our Animals” for 25,000 Swedish kroner, a not inconsiderable sum which caused heated debate. As the Director, Ernst Fischer, wrote, “I managed to secure the purchase today. Politics were involved…The naysayers insisted on remaining anonymous in the minutes.”

Hannah Ryggen’s visually powerful tapestries are a mixture of folk narrative and decoration, social commentary and pure colours. The wool was mostly spun by her from her own sheep and dyed by her using local plants. At once hard-hitting and humorous, her works combine personal candour, social and political engagement and visual majesty.

Paasche explores Ryggen’s bold subject matter, particular blend of abstraction and figuration, and use of contemporary and folk art not only within the context of Ryggen’s life and beliefs, but also in the context of European art and politics of the first half of the 20th century. Not reading Norwegian, it’s hard for me to know whether Paasche writes well or is served well by her translator, Katie Stieglitz, or a mixture of the two; but taken together the women speak confidently and calmly, leaving the tapestries, informed by Ryggen’s voice through her archive, to speak for themselves.

Included in the book are excellent illustrations, many with detailed accompanying images, together with numerous photographs showing Hannah with her family on their small-holding, and in her contemporary world. But this is not a picture book for the coffee table. It is a very readable and scholarly account of Ryggen’s work, backed up by a comprehensive list of works, bibliography, footnotes and archive resources. ‘Hannah Ryggen: Threads of Defiance’ provides an account of a remarkable artist. I recommend it to both weavers and non-weavers as a well-written document of a fascinating and turbulent time for Europe and it effect on an artist who engaged and wove to the full the life around her.

Review by Sally Reckert (sally@reckert.com) October 2019

Sally Reckert is an avid tapestry weaver who lives in Richmond, Yorkshire, England. She is also the editor of the British Tapestry Group’s journal, Tapestry Weaver. Sally has a tapestry in the upcoming exhibit, The Baldishol: A Medieval Tapestry Inspires Contemporary Textiles. Read about this tapestry with special resonance now: Sally Reckert: Marching Toward the Unknown.

Nordic Notes: May 2020

Scandinavian Textiles: Articles, Exhibits, News

Interview

The May 2020 issue of Norwegian Crafts Newsletter features an interview of one of the foremost textile artists in Norway: “Weaving the Wild: the work of Brit Fuglevaag.” Zoe Black, a New Zealand artist on a residency in Norway, wrote the article. It includes a quote that conjures a beautiful image. “Each summer when Brit is staying at her holiday home she walks along the shore of the nearby fjord and collects discarded fibres. Found rope, sisal, fishing line and any other fabric is systematically collected and strung together. These bundles are then hung outside her cottage and left for the winter. The elements naturally knead the fibre and give each piece an indistinguishable texture that comes from slow organic processing.”

Film

For fans of historical textiles, a wonderful film was made in 2016:  The Reconstruction of the Lendbreen TunicArchaeological research in Norway at the Lendbreen glacier in northern Gudbransdal has been in the news again recently; in April, 2020, the CNN website posted “Melting glaciers reveal lost mountain pass and artifacts used by Vikings.” This site and its artifacts have sparked research by many people, including Marta Kløve Juuhl, who worked with weavers from Iceland and the Shetland Islands to recreate the tunic fabric on a warp-weighted loom. She wrote about it for the Norwegian Textile Letter in 2014: Diamond Twill Woven on a Warp-weighted Loom.

Three inspirational videos about Norwegian tapestry artists have been posted on the Absolutetapestry.com website: Unn Sønnju, Brita Been, and Tonje Høydahl Sørli. Wonderful interviews. 

Webinar

Webinar Replay: Celebrating Norwegian Handcraft with Harley and Norma Refsal: A joint production of North House Folk School and Vesterheim Norwegian-American Museum. This is a recording of the Celebrating Norwegian Handcraft from Sámi North to Wooded South webinar with Harley and Norma Refsal. There is not a lot of textile content in this webinar, but the speakers are great storytellers, and there is so much information about how the materials that were available to people affected the handcrafts they produced. 

Blog Posts 

Looms at Osterøy Museum

Pile Weaving on the Warp Weighted Loom in Norway.” A woman posting as MARDOLL9 on the Northern Women Arts Collaborative website wrote about attending a class at Osterøy Museum last fall (2019). She wove an Icelandic pile coverlet on a warp-weighted loom. Listen for the magical sound of clinking rock weights as she weaves in the short embedded video.  Osterøy Museum has been featured several times in the Norwegian Textile Letter; here is Marta Kløve Juuhl’s article about making a pile coverlet: “Varafeldur: An Icelandic Rya Reconstruction,” from November 2013. 

 

RETRO REPRINT: The Ruteaklaer Tradition in Norway

Revisiting the Norwegian Textile Letter Volume 1, No. 2, January 1995

By Lila Nelson

Of the various types of coverlets produced and used on the farms in Norway during the seventeenth through nineteenth centuries, those with geometric forms woven in certain tapestry techniques have been surprisingly neglected.  Much more interest has been taken in the two major pile weaves, flossa and rya, and more is known of their history.  This parallels the situation in the Orient, to which the rya knot can be traced, where pile woven carpets have until recently eclipsed concern with flat woven types.  Marit Wang’s Ruteaklaer (Oslo: Univeritetsforlaget, 1983) is the first in-depth study of Norway’s geometric patterned tapestry coverlets.

[This rutevev coverlet is similar to the one in the original article. From the collection of Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. Full record here.]

Like many folk textiles, the coverlets have been known by a variety of names, and recently scholars have tried to arrive at one generally accepted and understood term. Aklae1 has been in common usage to denote coverlets of which the geometric are only one example.  In Akleboka (Gauslaa and Ostby, Landbruksforlaget, 1977), aklae included twills, overshot, bound weaves and double weaves in addition to the tapestry types.  Smettaklae infers the technique; this refers to aklaer woven with small butterflies or bobbins with discontinuous wefts.  Ruteaklae identifies the design as being built up of square blocks (Janice Stewart in her FOLK ARTS OF NORWAY uses the term “square weave” in identifying geometric tapestry coverlets), while Vestlandsaklae indicates the area in Norway where most of the coverlets were produced. 

Recently the Swedish term rolaken has been used in an effort to standardize nomenclature on a broader level (Nordisk Tekstilteknisk Terminologi by Stromberg, Geijer, Hald, and Hoffman, Oslo, published, 1974, and Wang, Ruteaklaer).  However, since I believe that weavers in this area still generally identify rolakan with one specific type of tapestry coverlet from Sweden, I will use the term chosen by Wang for the title of her study, ruteaklae.

When interlock tapestry, of which ruteaklae is a type, came into Norway is not known.  Archaeological finds in Sweden from the eighth and ninth centuries have included fragments of rolakan considered by some scholars to be indigenous.  Anna-Maja Nylen states that it is generally believed rolakan existed in an unbroken tradition in Sweden from prehistoric times.2

Janice Stewart equates the development of ruteaklae with that of chip carving in Norway,3  both appearing in the Middle Ages, although no examples from that period have been documented in any of the Nordic countries.  Einar Lexow, in his 1914 study of the 280 rutaeklaer then in the Bergen Museum, speculated that the technique might have begun  at a time when a sharp demarcation between rural and urban did not exist; that the eighteenth century marked the period of development among the Norwegian peasants and the nineteenth and twentieth centuries a time of gradual decadence and decline.4 The date of production for most extant ruteaklaer can only be surmised. Lexow dates one Sogn coverlet in the Bergen collection as no older than 1700 on the basis of the dress and pipe styles of two smoking figures in the upper center.5 Unfortunately, such figures are rare in ruteaklaer and, equally unfortunately, dates were seldom woven into them.

Areas of western and southern Norway where ruteaklaer were woven. Numbers refer to the Bergen Museum collection as of 1975.

A little more is known about the locus of production.  Of the 346 coverlets now in the Bergen Museum (the largest individual collection in Norway), the provenance of 205 is known. Practically all come from the west coast fjord area as far north as Sunnmore and south to Mandal on the southern tip (see map, fig. 1).  The highest concentration within that area is midway, in Sogn (49 aklaer) and Nordhordland (45), and in their bordering regions, Sunnfjord (23) to the north and Hardanger (19) to the south.  Lexow’s additional examination of aklaer in the collections of the Kristiania Museum of Industrial Arts, the Norwegian Folk Museum and the Maihaugen collection confirmed these conclusions.  The few having inland provenances were believed to have been imports from west Norway. 

General characteristics of ruteaklaer include a rectangular shape around four feet in width and five feet in length.  The majority are made in one piece, indicating the use of a wide loom; but in the southern areas many are woven in two equal sections joined down the center.  The warp is generally of linen or hemp in the earliest pieces, but a tight twist cotton appears later.  A small number throughout the west coast area have wool warps.  The warp, generally single but sometimes double stranded, is spaced so that it is completely covered by the wool weft, which is packed down to produce a satisfactorily tight and warm coverlet.  The occasional appearance of heading cords suggests that some aklaer were woven on a vertical loom; Marta Hoffmann has written about a west coast loom with both upper and lower beams, as well as the warp-weighted loom, which was in common use throughout the country long after the introduction of the horizontal loom on the European continent.6 Fringed upper and lower borders probably indicate revival pieces made for decorative use only; the early aklaer were simply turned under and firmly stitched.  The designs making up the body of the pieces are built up in blocks of two, four or six warp widths, with four being the standard.  Upper and lower borders are generally present in widely varying designs and sizes; four-sided borders seem to occur only in pieces from the southern areas.  The ruteaklaer which, unlike the above, have an all-over banded composition, appear to be unique to the area of Nordhorland.

From the standpoint of tapestry techniques, the body of ruteaklaer were executed in four ways.  Of these, the single interlock method seems to have predominated.  In this method, meeting wefts are linked between warps when moving one direction only, fig.1.  Double interlock, a linkage of wefts in both directions as in rolakan, fig.2 was a close second, although it appears that single interlock has been more common in late nineteenth and twentieth century coverlets. 

A considerable smaller group has single dovetailed joins (meeting wefts share a common warp), fig.3, and a very few represent mixed techniques.  Of 345 aklaer in the Bergen Collection, grouping according to technique was follows:7 

 

Reasons for method choices are speculative.  One could presume that a practical-minded housewife would prefer aklaer woven in single interlock because these were reversible.  They were not however, as heavy as double interlock pieces, a factor to consider in cold climates.  Marit Monsen in the 1975 yearbook of Sunnmore Museum, points up the possibility of a relationship between design and method. She noted that of the twelve ruteaklaer from Sunnmore in the Bergen collection, the seven with eight-petaled flower motifs were done in single interlock; the four with diagonal line compositions were double interlock; and the one with both motifs included both techniques.  Wang found that the eight-petaled flower “appears proportionately more frequently in coverlets woven with single interlocking’.8

Professor Lexow from his 1914 study came to the conclusion that the wide variety of designs found in ruteaklaer developed from an originally uniform motif, the eight-petaled flower.  He describes it quite explicitly:

The motif repeated in all coverlets of this older type is the eight-petaled flower with two dark colors alternating in adjoining petals. The space between the petals is yellow at top, bottom, and on both sides, and white in other spaces. Around the flower is always found an octagonal frame of darker color. This figure is almost identical on these coverlets, with insignificant variations only in color. Four of the petals are always of a reddish-violet color (from a vegetable dye made from lecanora tartaria). The other four petals are usually green or brown but now often faded completely gray; occasionally they are also blue.The frame is woven in the same colors as those of the flower. Yellow and white are the unchanging ground colors. The same rule for color placement is adhered to here as in heraldry: ‘either color on metal, or metal on color’; that is, darker colors must never be placed close to each other but must always be separated by light colors (gold and silver in heraldry, yellow and white in square weave)’9

Traditional eight-petaled flower. Rutevev from Hordaland in the collection of the Norsk Folkemuseum. Full record here.

Variation in the arrangement of the flowers occurred early and developed in some cases as clearly localized character.  In Hardanger they became smaller than in Sogn and Sunnfjord and were repeated, often in white, up to 24 times, while broken-up diagonals with complex color and design arrangements dotted the divisions between the flowers. 

Hardanger coverlet in the collection of the Norsk Folkemuseum. Full record here.

The colors were usually the standard red, yellow, and natural white and black, but in brighter shades than found to the north in Sogn, with sometimes blue or green included.  Eventually the division blocks between petals as well as the alternating color arrangement disappeared, leaving a simplified form of an eight-pointed star.  Generally speaking, the coverlets of Sogn and the north have big bold flowers in larger blocks of color than are usual in Hardanger and the south.  In Nordhordland a distinctively horizontal orientation developed, with the eight-petaled flower only one of other motifs and techniques occurring in narrow bands across an entire piece.  Relatively dark shades of red and blue also distinguished many of these coverlets.

Banded coverlet from Hordaland. Norsk Folkemuseum. Full record here.

The Celtic knot motif has been found often though not exclusively, in Sogn.  It is a motif to which magic properties were once ascribed, but it is not known that this or any other motif had symbolic significance as used in aklaer.  While in some media the knot has circular loops in each of the four corners, in geometric weaving these have become squares.  The knot has appeared within the center of an eight-pointed star, in a double form in horizontal rows, and in a highly complex structure of 20 interlocked knots rather than the standard four. 

A highly complex variant of the celtic knot from Sogn. Norsk Folkemuseum. Full record here.

In other variations the knots have been opened to form a motif called the nine crosses. 

A coverlet dominated by the nine-cross motif. From Slottsfjellmuseet. Full record here.

In still another, referred to as the nine-flowers motif, the crosses have each become closed triangles.  Finally, it has been combined with a variation of the lily cross in which the Celtic knot is practically obscured.

While crosses and diamonds fill the diagonals between flowers and knot motifs, they also comprise the only motifs in some aklaer.  Four diamonds clustered together to form a large diamond called a hodnrose (horned flower) sometimes alternated with a five-diamond arrangement known as kollerose or hornless flower.  These seem to appear in all of the west coast areas where ruteaklaer were found.

The ornamentation on upper and lower borders, which can be found in practically every rutaklaer, varies considerably in width, design, and technique.  By far the most widely prevalent – and often the only- border designs are narrow stripes and two-color alterations called kjerringtenner (hag’s teeth). All the colors of the piece are picked up and blended in what is usually a pleasing contrast to the bolder blocks of color and design in the body. Other borders, which occur in approximately decreasing frequency in the order of their listing, include:

This brief introduction points up how much is left to be studied about ruteaklear.  The extensive collections in Norwegian museums other than Bergen, as well as the many in private possession, need to be catalogued.  Microscopic examination of warps to determine the nature of what Wang describes only as non-wool could answer questions about the introduction and distribution of cotton in rural Norway.  The relationship of ruteaklaer to the pictorial tapestry tradition in Norway is a field of further exploration. Very little has been done to relate ruteaklaer to geometric flat weavings of Poland, Rumania, Bulgaria, and parts of western Europe.  And of particular interest here, the number of ruteaklaer in private and public collections brought to this country as a result of the Norwegian immigration should be located and researched.  They are a part of that complex and diverse entity which comprises the folk art tradition of America.  

1The spelling of aklae varies according to chronology and place.  Akled, for example, is an early form.

2Ann-Maja Nylen. Tr. Anne Charlotte Harvey.  Swedish Handcrafts, New York:  Van Nostrand Reinhold Co, 1977, p.151.

3Janice Stewart. The Folk Arts of Norway, New York:  Dover Publications, Inc., 1972, Second edition p.164.

4Einer Lexow. Tr. John Gundersen. Vestlanksk Vevkunst. Monograph reprinted from the Bergens Museums Aarbok, 1914. P.27.

5Lexow,p.7.

6Marta Hoffmann, En Gruppe Vevstoler pa Vestlandet, Oslo: pub, 1958; ibid, The Warp-Weighted Loom Studia Norwegica No 14, Oslo, 1964.

7Marit Wang, Ruteaklaer, Universitetetsforlaget, 1983, p. 147.

8Wang, p. 148 (English summary)

9Lexow, pp. 5-6.

Reprinted with permission form THE TEXTILE COUNCIL of the Minneapolis Institute of Arts, Spring 1994

Would you like to see more rutevev coverlets?  

Here are a few from the virtual galleries of Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum. 

The Norwegian Digital Library, digitaltmuseum.no, includes artifacts from many museums in Norway. If you enter “rutevev” in the search box, you can see almost 400 pieces. 

 

Migration of a Tradition: Tapestry Images

Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition (Abbeville Press, 1995) features beautiful photos of Norwegian billedvev, or tapestry. The section is available in pdf format here: “Reflections of the Renaissance: The Tapestry Technique and Picture Weaving.”

Several historical tapestries were included in the book and the exhibit it celebrated. Also, two modern pieces reflected Norwegian billedvev tradition: a tapestry by Nancy Jackson and a quilt by Helen Kelly. 

Nancy Jackson, “The Battle of the Horse and Bull”

When Marion Nelson asked Nancy Jackson if her tapestry, “The Battle of the Horse and Bull,” could be included in the traveling exhibition, she felt very honored. He told her he thought her tapestry was an important link between the old Norwegian picture tapestries and the newer Norwegian tapestry images. It was also meaningful because Marion’s wife Lila was important to Nancy’s development as an artist. Nancy wrote, “I always respected Marion and Lila so much, and consider Lila to be the first person who opened my eyes to tapestry as a serious weaving expression. She understood me and directed me through the many letters we wrote back and forth after she taught my first tapestry weaving class in the late 1970s.”

Nancy Jackson, “Battle of the Horse & Bull.” 41-inches x 58-inches. Materials: Wool on cotton warp. Photo: Charlie Langton of Vesterheim Museum.

Nancy Jackson, “Saint Olav (Olaf) King of Norway.” 59.5″ x 27″, handwoven tapestry, wool weft & cotton warp. All rights reserved.

While Nancy never saw the show in person, it led to a marvelous new tapestry. Nancy’s Norwegian friends saw the show in Oslo, completely by chance, and were excited when they found “The Battle of the Horse and the Bull” by their friend back in the U.S. Later Nancy wove a commissioned tapestry for the couple, a five-foot-high “King Olav,” inspired by Norwegian billedvev tradition. 

Nancy Jackson continued to have a distinguished career as a tapestry artist and icon painter. In 2003-2004 Vesterheim Norwegian American Museum held an exhibit of Nancy’s work: Incarnations: A Nancy Jackson Retrospective 1980-2003. “The Battle of the Horse and Bull” was featured prominently, along with the working documents, including the life-sized cartoon and woven color samples.

See more of Nancy Jackson’s work at Timshel Tapestry and Iconography Studio

 

 

 

Helen Kelley, “Renaissance”

Photo: Jason Onerheim, Minnesota Historical Society

Helen Kelly (1927-2008), a noted quilter from Minneapolis, Minnesota, paid homage to an old Norwegian billedvev design in “Renaissance.” Helen and her quilt were featured in the Norwegian Textile Letter in August, 2019.  See: ““Under the Skin of Those Old Weavers”: Helen Kelley’s ‘Renaissance’ Quilt” By Lisa Anne Bauch. 

The quilt is now in the collection of the Minnesota Historical Society.

See also these articles: Norwegian Folk Art: The Migration of a Tradition (Introduction) and Migration of a Tradition: Norwegian Folk Dress in America