North House Folk School

For the last week I’ve been traveling in southern Sweden, most days meeting with craftspeople at their homes and workshops and digging into hands-on explorations of various types of woodcraft. I spent a few days in the Nyköping area and was invited to spend a day at Oscar Larsson’s workshop in the tiny village of Himlinge. Oscar and his partner Emilia are recent graduates of Sätergläntan, a school for textiles, woodworking, and blacksmithing in Dalarna, Sweden. We were met there by Kerstin Neumuller, a heddle-carver and Swedish jack-of-all-trades (she has written multiple books on subjects like band-weaving and sashiko mending) who lives nearby. We filled our day by carving rigid heddles in the spring sunshine, enjoying multiple fikas, and sharing a big lunch with Oscar’s parents in their 18th-century farmhouse. 

An emerging theme of my trip is the idea of generational slöjd in Sweden, and how each generation of craftspeople here are intertwined via a craft genealogy. I’ve worked with and met people from distinct generations of slöjd and folk school education, and it's interesting to see the overlaps and differences in how each generation expresses their craft while finding inspiration in other generations’ work. 

One of the most enjoyable days I’ve had here was spent with Helena Åberg, a researcher, former craft consultant at Sörmlands Museum, and incredible woodworker who lives near Nyköping. Helena and I got together to dig deep into sveptask, or bentwood boxes. These thin-walled containers come in all shapes and sizes and are used as serving trays, storage boxes, and even travel trunks! 

Left: Helena in her workshop with a tiny bentwood box. Right: An antique bentwood travel trunk!

Helena met me at the bus stop and we walked to her house, where she has a small workshop in the backyard. It was a sunny day, so after we “fika-ed” we went out in the yard and started to split a pine log she had recently received after it blew down. Using many tools familiar to a greenwood chairmaker (me!), we broke down the log into long, thin boards that would become the walls of future bentwood boxes. 

Left: Starting to split a pine log. Right: Carefully splitting thin “slices” of pine.

Helena uses a shavehorse and drawknife to further refine the riven box blanks, which was another fun overlap between our woodworking methods. 

Left: Using a drawknife to flatten and refine the box sides. Right: Helena’s workshop.

After a while, it was time to go into the house for another fika, and Helena had brought out a big variety of the boxes she had made and collected from flea markets over the years. Her current interest lies in making boxes from aspen, a style more common among Finnish boxmakers. The riven aspen sides display a wavy grain that is very different from the pine-built boxes in Sweden. Boxmakers choose from a wide variety of methods for making and attaching creative lids, which adds to the unique character of each box. 

Left: Some of Helena’s work in progress. Right: Helena’s recent aspen boxes.

A defining feature of these containers is the way the sides are bound into a circle by sewing birch or spruce root using embroidery patterns. These embroideries secure the overlapping ends of the box, and last hundreds of years. 

My sewing samples using split birch root

Of course, in addition to being filled with antique woodcraft, Helena’s home is host to slöjd objects made by her contemporaries like Beth Moen and Jögge Sundqvist. She made a delicious carrot soup for lunch, and we ate using bowls and spoons made by people who have been guests at North House, who we know in common, and who form a link between our experiences as craftspeople. Handmade objects have that power. 

The afternoon was spent in the workshop practicing steambending the sides around forms, where they dry before being sewn into rings. Helena also taught me a few of the stitches needed to make boxes and showed me how to split the root prior to sewing. 

Bending the steamed sides around a form.

The sun had set by the time we decided to call it a day, and Helena gave me a big hug and directions to the bus stop. Of course, I didn’t make an entire box, but I left with things far more valuable—the skills I need to make more when I get home to Grand Marais, and a new mentor and friend in Helena Åberg.