Ole Bull, the Norwegian violinist and Oleana inspiration. |
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Oleana designer Solveig Hisdal
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Almost ten centuries after the Vikings headed to the sea in their long ships, their descendants again took to the ocean: in 1825 the first wave of Norwegian immigrants headed west-like Erik the Red before them-to America. These settlers called the new country their vesterheim, their 'western home.'
Today, the rich history of the Norwegian-American experience is celebrated in a museum in Decorah, Iowa. Its name echoes the history it preserves. An important part of the Vesterheim's rich trove of artifacts from the Land of the Midnight Sun is a fine collection of weaving and knitting. Brought across the Atlantic in colorful rosemaled chests, these treasures have enthralled and inspired museum-goers since 1877. And now, the Vesterheim is hosting three visitors from Norway. Inspired by a 19th century violin virtuoso's quest to popularize Norway's musical traditions, they have embarked on a different adventure.
In the mid 19th century, the legendary violinist Ole Bull (left) combed the Norwegian countryside for almost-forgotten folk songs. He performed these lyrical melodies in the finest salons and concert halls of Europe and America. His good friend Edvard Grieg set them down on paper. The haunting 'Solveig's Song' could have been one of them.
Now another Solveig and her friends Signe and Kolbjørn have set out to gather a different kind of treasure-from Norway's colorful textile tradition. This is their story...
Across this street from the Vesterheim (see The Knitting Universe, Knitter's 63) stands the Amdal-Odland Heritage Center in a building that used to be a dry-goods store and chiropractic clinic and is now a part of the Vesterheim complex. It was built in the 1860s of native limestone from the bluffs that border Decorah. So its exterior does not hint that a visitor would cross a border by crossing its threshold.
"Almost every surface has been painted by the Norwegian rosemaler Sigmund Aarseth," says Vesterheim Textile Curator Laurann Gilbertson. "What we call the 'gathering room' is completely covered with scenes from the Norwegian year."
It's winter outside, but in the soft light of the gathering room the four seasons are in full bloom: a 'calendar stick' that runs along the walls like a chair-rail marks the months, and above it, accompanying scenes unfold the beauty, history, culture, and folklore of Norway.
"Here's a saint's symbol," Laurann says, "and there's a mitten, marking another important date in the Norwegian calendar: the preparation of the household for winter. And look, these images depict the danger of your baby being swapped with a changeling–the baby of a troll, an underworld creature!"
This visitor wanted to hear more, but now music fills the air: a man wearing a mosaic-like, intricately patterned black and green cardigan with bright red trim (see photo, above) has entered the room, singing in Norwegian.
Laurann whispers that he's Kolbjørn Valestrand, one of the Norwegian design-house principals, here for the opening of a major exhibit of the Oleana Collection. Kolbjørn explains that with his musical introduction he was paying homage to Ole Bull, a renowned violinist, bon vivant, and fabled figure in his native Norway. "Ole was a musician who lived in Bergen from 1810 to 1880," Kolbjørn says, "and he was the first to bring Norwegian folk music into the European and American scene. He was also very much interested in freedom, since Norway, at that time, was part of Sweden. He encouraged other Norwegian authors, writers, and musicians, including Edvard Grieg. He also brought the young Henrik Ibsen to Bergen to manage his theater. Ole was a man ahead of his time, a visionary.
"He wanted to start a colony, Oleana, in Pennsylvania, for poor Norwegian immigrants. But it remained only a dream." It is said that Ole played many a concert to pay off the resulting debt of the failed Oleana colony.
Still, Ole's story was an inspiration to Kolbjørn and his Oleana partners: they loved the way Ole collected and preserved beautiful folk melodies from the Norwegian countryside. They set out to do the same–with knitting patterns.
Kolbjørn and his partners (one of whom, Signe Aarhus, is with him tonight) thought to combine high technology with historical tradition. So they searched–like Ole before themÑin for inspiration in Norway's past.
"Oleana was a dream," says Signe, "and it now looks like it's going to become a reality." This understatement is typical of this unassuming, tall, slender woman dressed in the reds, burgundies, and pinks of Oleana design 28R (see photo, p. 22). Oleana is now a successful business whose designs are sold in upscale boutiques in many countries. But Signe is recalling the challenges of earlier days.
"We had been working in the textile industry for many years and we wanted to do something different. But this was at a time when all the marketing people were telling us that it was impossible to sell good design. People, these experts said, just didn't want it. Besides, most textile production had moved outside of Norway, to places like China.
"But we wanted to prove that it was possible to survive by producing beautiful textiles in Norway."
"We started very slowly. First, we had to raise enough money to buy good second-hand machines. And we realized that we had to define very clearly what we wanted the machines to do–and what we wanted good hands and sharp eyes to do.
"We had a dream to start a new company," Kolbjørn says, "because we were sure there was a market for high quality and we would find itÑboth in Norway and in other places. We also wanted to create an organization based on other values. One of Oleana's advantages was attracting people who, like us, wanted to have fun creating beautiful designs.
"We didn't want to repeat the mistakes of other textile companies that failed because they didn't have a proper product philosophy or didn't treat their workers right.
"People have worked with textiles in Norway for over 160 years. There are commercial wool spinners near Bergen, where Oleana is located, so we had the raw materialsÑall those sheep!–and our textile tradition. And, of course, we had the pattern tradition as well.
"We all grew up with knitting and weaving in our homes," Signe says. "When I started to study textiles in England, so many of the wool mills in Norway were closing. But in England I found old, charming mills still running. I loved that tradition and I wanted to do all I could to preserve it.
"I remember, when I started my studies in England, our department head saying, 'Join textiles–see the world!' That's so true–and so fascinating–because textiles are so international. People have always loved textiles for their beauty. But textiles also embody such fantastic knowledge about raw materials and the skills that go into creating them. It's like the United Nations: you feel you belong in a very big, strong, textile family.
"But the marketplace emphasis in Norway, then, was on price, and therefore–in our opinion–on a resulting inferior product.
"When we first had the idea to start a company, we worked for months to find the right name," Kolbjørn says. We wanted a name that would express our dreams and our feelings. So for many months we tried to come up with the right word. We all like history, art, music, and one day, when Ole Bull's name came up, we thought, 'Oleana!'"
"When Norway was struggling to become a nation," Signe says, "people used our artists as inspiration for our nationhood, for our new identity. At Oleana we loved the idea of going back in time, finding something strong and developing it, making it a part of modern life. In the same way that Ole Bull brought folk music to the salons of Europe and the best concert halls of the world.
"We wanted to do that with our knitting patterns. We didn't want just to repeat our knitting tradition–we wanted to develop it, and for that we needed a strong designer.
"About that time Kolbjørn and I went to see a fantastic exhibition in Oslo by designer Solveig Hisdal, a clothing designer we knew of, but had never worked with. We knew when we saw her work, 'Wedding Jackets from a Town Girl'–inspired by national costumes–that she was the designer we had been looking for.
Often, in Norwegian folk costumes, fine imported silk and rich brocade ribbons would be combined with knitting. We asked Solveig if she would design a jacket with ribbon accents. That's how our collaboration began. Solveig Hisdal is now Oleana's full-time designer."
Surprising as it may seem, Solveig Hisdal has been present in the gathering room. A soft-spoken woman with short hair, she has been sitting quietly, listening to our conversation as if awaiting her cue. Is she the designer behind the fresh, individual Oleana look?
"Yes," she replies, "but you could say that history and tradition really are. I'm responsible for only a small fragment...But I try to translate that fragment and make it my own. What I think is important, is not just to copy traditional patterns. Knitting is very strong in Norway, but I try to make something new out of our knitting tradition. Very often I don't always know what has been the start of a design–it's a mix of so many impressions.
"Maybe my approach to knitting design is different because I look at knitting from another angle, that of a graphic designer, see it as an element of an overall concept. That may be one reason why my work differs from the traditional patterns. Of course, I use my intuition when I work as well, and it's difficultÑnever mind my EnglishÑto explain what it is that I doÉ
"What I try to do is pick the essence, the feeling of joy, of things that inspire me. When I see all these museum pieces I'm energized. The people who made them didn't always have access to rich materials–just what they could get their hands on–but whatever it was they made it their own. And they made it beautiful! We have long, harsh winters in Norway, and through their bright costumes people added color and beauty. That has been an inspiration to me: to make my designs as beautiful as I can."
Those Oleana designs were flying off the Vesterheim Museum Shop's racks–and, yes, many of the customers were knitters.
"Solveig," Kolbjørn says, "allowed us at Oleana to create what we like, instead of what the market said it wanted. To do this we had to trust her–and then go out and create a market for it."
How did Solveig go about creating pieces that rival the latest Fifth Avenue fashions–yet hold within them the echoes of old Norway?
"I had been working on my own," Solveig says, "taking inspiration from the Japanese Kabuki theater. But I had been going to museums and thinking, 'Why not use our own costumes as a basis for my work?'
"At the time I was pretty new at designing knitwear. I had made my first knitwear collection by myself, and the response was very good, but I realized that if I wanted to design, I couldn't also produce all the garments. So when Oleana approached me I thought, 'Wonderful: I'll design, and they'll produce the garments.'
"I also realized that as Oleana's designer it was important to incorporate fashion trends into my work. When you work with clothes you have to have the feeling of what is going on at the moment. A mix of tradition (that's where the museum comes in) and what is going on today is very important. Because what I make today has to be fashionable–but I also want it to live on in the future."
"Solveig is in step with fashion," Signe says. "When we're in Paris or London, wherever we happen to be traveling, we try to get into the bones of what's going on. Get the trends, know what the great colors are going to be for the next season. Then we react to it all, and that reaction is our new fashion. I feel that we're very independent in that respect, we're marching to our own beat."
Solveig allows handknitters to dance to that beat with her book Poetry in Stitches (Unicorn Books). Through its pages march a parade of colorful patterns and beautiful textiles. Solveig's evocative photographs of Norwegian woods, flowers, seascapes, and painted interiors are worth the price of the book.
"People who love textiles will love this book," Signe says. "Many people will buy Poetry in Stitches not just because of all the great knitting and to see how a designer works, but for the photographs: it's a wonderful picture book."
"It was important to make the book like this," Solveig adds. "The background shots help readers understand the knitting. To me it has been very important to take these pictures in Norway and in the countryside because I think what I do with the knitwear is somehow connected with my surroundings. The Norwegian countryside is my best studio.
"The book's sweaters were photographed outside my summer house south of Bergen, on a small island not far from the Hardangerfjord. It's beautiful, surrounded by mountains, glaciers, and the fjord."
And then there are the patterns: sweaters for babies and children, christening caps, and adult sweaters and cardigans that dazzle the eyes. Amidst her busy designing schedule, how did Solveig have time to do a book?
"I love handknitting," she says, "but it takes too much time for me! Time that I'd much rather spend designing. But the publisher (N.W. Damm & Søn) made me an offer I couldn't refuse: they allowed me to take all my own pictures and do the layout and then had someone proof all the patterns.
"I thought that I would get a lot of phone calls, and have to explain things to knitters. But amazingly, the reaction has been very positive, because the patterns are easy to follow."
It wasn't necessary to ask Solveig where the inspiration for the book came from: it lay all around her in the majestic fjords and mountains, green valleys and blue inlets–and her homeland's museum treasures. But where did the book's title come from?
"Poetry is very important to me," Solveig says. "I was happy when I found this title, but then I began to worry that knitters would think this book is full of poetry and wouldn't buy it! But people understand what the title stands for. Making these designs was my poetry."
"Sometimes," says the ever-astute Signe, laughing and facing a publisher who's busy taking notes, "publishers and marketing directors think that people are more difficult to reach."
Were museum collections difficult to reach as well?
Signe explains that, "a few years ago the museums were very protective about letting designers and magazines in because their artifacts would be 'copied.' But Solveig has done her job so well, that attitude has changed. And we're pleased to have had many opportunities to exhibit Oleana designs together with the artifacts that inspired them."
"It's a public treasure," Solveig agrees, "that people can use. I love the traditional Norwegian patterns: they have always been knittedÑthey're being knitted today, and they'll be knitted tomorrow. But I wanted a different approach. I derived my inspiration from woven and painted patterns and festive costumes. Everywhere you look, it seems, there's inspiration."
"It's so much fun," Signe says, "going around thinking about all the wonderful things that we could make! When we find a beautiful ribbon we say, 'yes, let's use it,' regardless of the cost. If we find a silver button we say, 'of course!'–and use it. We don't try to find a cheaper way to copy that button or reproduce that ribbon.
"That gives Oleana the beautiful details people love. This approach might raise the price a little bit, but it gives us that special look. So many manufacturers are so concerned about how they can make something just a bit cheaper that they often lose the beauty of a design. I'll show you a ribbon we have here, a French silk import that I think is one of the most expensive ribbons on the market in Europe (see photo p. 27). But we think it's perfect. And we'll be alone in featuring it.
"So it's the detailing, craftsmanship, and Solveig's creativity that make people fall in love with our designs. If they can't afford something right away they go home and save money to buy it later. Many young girls in Norway wear our designs for their confirmation. Other women just have to have one: they fall in love with it immediately. It's great when you see that.
"I remember when we introduced the Vesterheim Jacket," Kolbjørn recalls. "Many people said, 'You can't mix those colors! Red and pink?' So we're breaking the rules, in a way. Whenever someone says, 'You can't do that!' We think, 'Fantastic, let's do it!'"
Red and pink? Is Kolbjørn talking about the Vesterheim Jacket?
"Yes," replies Signe, "the Vesterheim Jacket, number 32G in our catalog. There's not much poetry in our numbering system, I'm afraid!
"A breast plate was used in our national costumes beneath a woman's bodice or vest. See the border here? I used it on the sleeve and the jacket. The flower? I used all the colors: red, pink, green, and yellow. And it's nice to think that a Norwegian immigrant's treasures inspired the best-selling Oleana design. "
"When we first came to the Vesterheim," Signe says, "and saw these pieces, we were moved. When you think that in the 1850s someone brought these little treasure with them all the way from NorwayÉ and now we've made a new jacket based on their designs. It's a very nice story: small treasures that again have come to life.
"And what really amazes me, besides the beauty of these pieces, is that women had so little time to make them. When you think about the fine embroideryÑand the very little light they had to do itÑit's very impressive."
Also impressive are the colorways of a design that may be as different from each other as the black and white keys of a piano. Yet they harmonize like the notes of a chord. A prime example is the Vesterheim Jacket–sorry, Oleana Design 32G–in green/blue/mauve. Solveig says this colorway was inspired by the blue of lavender fields, and is currently the Oleana best seller. How many colorways does Solveig consider before making her final choice?
"I try many different combinations," she says, "because I can't see how it will work before doing a swatch. We now do a lot of the swatching at the factory. We have computer design programs, but they don't give you the feeling that the swatch does. Only then can you see how all the colors will work together.
"I find it's easier to design for women because I can use all the colors, buttons, and ribbons. In the Norwegian tradition, men would wear a monochromatic jacket with bright suspenders.
"When I design I try to get the essence of whatever inspired me: maybe it's some old bed linen with stripes and roses. That may be a beginning. The beginning of this design (24T, see p. 22) was an old breast cloth, a very typical woven textile. Women would often insert cardboard to stiffen them, or a love letter, perhaps from America, their vesterheim–and keep it close to their hearts."
See Solveig, Signe, and the Oleana Collection at Seattle's Nordic Heritage Museum. The exhibit opens September 13, with presentations October 6, 2001.
Meet Solveig Hisdal at Stitches East (October 11-14, 2001, Valley Forge Convention Center, King of Prussia, Pennsylvania) where she will be the Special Guest and Opening Day speaker.
Consider a visit to picturesque Decorah: 523 West Water Street, Decorah, Iowa 52101. Can't travel to Decorah just yet? Enjoy more of the knitted treasures of the Vesterheim Norwegian American-Museum on Knitter's Timeline (knittinguniverse.com/athena/timeline). Would you like to order a Vesterheim Jacket? Just call the Vesterheim gift shop: 319-382-9681.
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Oleana's Solveig Hisdal, Kolbjørn Valestrand, and Signe Aarhus |
