Astrid

On April 11, 2024April 11, 2024 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, Swedish spinning wheel4 Comments

If the value of a wheel can be measured by the lengths taken to keep it spinning, this wheel must have been very highly regarded. It could be a textbook for how to keep a spinning wheel running with whatever is on hand. Belying modern wheel owners who too often declare such wheels “a piece of junk,” and those who insist that flyer arms must be “balanced,” with all its makeshift repairs, this wheel still spins beautifully, more than two hundred years after it was made.

The wheel was part of Joan Cummer’s collection, which she donated to the now-defunct American Textile History Museum. Along with most of Cummer’s wheels, it was auctioned off after the museum closed and I was fortunate enough to become the next owner.

The wheel, “No. 34,” is pictured and described on pages 80-81 in Cummer’s “A Book of Spinning Wheels.” Cummer notes that it “is probably Scandinavian judging by the slope of the table and general proportions.” (p. 80) She did not know that the wheel contained a hidden clue as to its origin.

After bringing the wheel home, I wanted to get it spinning. On the mandrel, between the bobbin and flyer arms, was a spacer made from layers of leather, cardboard, and newspaper.

I carefully removed the layers and found that the newspaper pieces were in Swedish and contained Stockholm addresses and the date 1936,

evidence that this wheel—made in 1818—was being used well into the 1930s, either in Sweden, or by Swedish immigrants with access to a Swedish newspaper.

That was all I knew about this wheel until the fall of 2023, when the Rydals Museum in Sweden advertised on their Facebook page a presentation by Hans Johansson on wheels made in Hyssna, Sweden. Johansson runs Kvarnen y Hyssna (The Mill at Hyssna) (this link to his website has fantastic old photographs of Hyssna). Johansson is the fourth generation of a mill and sawmill family in Hyssna, a town east of Gothenburg, Sweden. With its ample water power and lumber, the town had a tradition of woodturning, passed down from father to son since the 16^th century. By the mid-19^th century, there were about fifty spinning wheel makers in the area, making a distinctive wheel style associated with Hyssna.

These “Hyssnarocken” were pictured on the Rydal Museum’s notice of Johansson’s talk and I excitedly realized that my 1818 wheel, Astrid, shared their features.

Although the museum people confirmed that Astrid likely is a Hyssna wheel, I have not been able to identify the actual maker. The most well-known Hyssna wheelmakers seem to be fairly recent ones–Johannes Persson and his son, Oscar (who was making wheels into the 1970s). The 1818 date on Astrid is the earliest I have seen on a Hyssna wheel.

With that date and the initials “ACSS” on the table end and “BAS” on the table top, it probably would not be too hard to trace the maker. But, with my limited Swedish skills, I am happy at this point just to know where the wheel is from.

Hyssna wheels have several distinctive features. There is a particular tilt to the table and angle of the legs that mark them, even from a distance.

They have painted highlights, usually in red, green, and black.

Aside from the painting, the wood has an unfinished, almost rough quality.

The table has initials, and often a date, carved and painted on its top, accompanied by decorative carving.

As Joan Cummer mentioned in her book, it is generally believed that initials on the end of the table belong to the maker, while those on the top are those of the owner. Whether that is always the case with Hyssna wheels, I do know, but the wheel in this Clara Falk blog post appears to have Johannes Persson’s initials on the table, if I understand correctly.

Two secondary upright supports extend down to the legs and the axles are held in place with pegs that go down the side of the upright rather than across it.

Another unique feature for most Hyssna wheels is the treadle set up, in which the treadling is done by the foot (or feet) resting across the cross bars rather than on a flat treadle piece. There is a small piece between the cross bars to the right of the spinner’s feet and the spinner-side legs go through the cross bar.

*Typical Hyssna treadle set up. This wheel was on FB marketplace–a lot of these wheels come up for sale*

Astrid has a more traditional treadle set up, which leads to the fascinating fixes made to this wheel over the years.

There are holes in the legs for treadle bar pins, which usually would not have been present in Hyssna wheels. Oddly, in this case, in addition to the holes, someone fashioned a metal bracket to hold a pin rather than have it go through the leg.

It is possible that the treadle set up is a replacement—its turnings and wood look a bit different than the rest of the wheel—and it may not have fit the holes well. Or perhaps it is original and just popped out of the hole too much. A similar metal bracket holds the axle in place after the hole for the axle peg eroded and was no longer functional

and a front axle bearing was made with folded metal hammered into the upright.

While it is hard to tell if the treadle set-up is a replacement, it is easy to see that the spinner-side maiden came from another wheel.

Not only does it have mismatched turnings, it does not come close to fitting properly in its hole. The peg to hold it in place is missing but someone stuffed a piece of fabric under the maiden which holds it tight and lends a nice bit of history to the wheel.

The collar for the mother-of-all is shimmed with layers of paper and leather.

The wheel rim, still bearing paint traces, has a largish gap showing a peg at an awkward angle.

The crowning glory of the make-do repairs is the flyer, with its now-rusty metal patch holding a broken flyer arm in place. I replaced the spacer made of leather and newspaper with some woolen yarn wrapped on the mandrel. The whole thing looks a mess and certainly is not balanced, but it spins surprisingly well.

The orifice only has a one-sided opening as it emerges to the flyer.

The table underside is beautifully shaped

but my favorite touch is the decorative shaping of the wheel end of the table.

Joan Cummer noted that the other “end of the table bearing the tensioning screw is beautifully shaped and sculptured. Much care and pride seems to have been taken in the making of this wheel.” (p. 80) I agree. And much care was taken to keep it functioning for over 200 years.

Thank you to the Rydals Museum staff for their patience and time in helping me learn about the Hyssna wheels.

The information on Hyssna wheels is from the Rydal Museum’s summary of Hans Johansson’s presentation and a piece that he wrote: “Spinnrockar, förläggare och svavtradition i Hyssna,” which is in a book available through the museum.

Cummer, Joan, A Book of Spinning Wheels, Peter E. Randall, Portsmouth, N.H. 1984. Wheel 34 is on pp. 80-81.

Ulla

On February 20, 2024 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, Swedish spinning wheelLeave a comment

While in Dalarna, Sweden last summer, one particular wheel style kept appearing at various places I visited. I first noticed this style in the collection at Sätergläntan, the craft school I was attending for a daldräll weaving course. I was especially interested in the collection’s two turned-table, metal-clad wheels described in my last post, “Torvi.”

*The turned-table wheels at Sätergläntan*

Even as I was marveling over those wheels, however, another caught my eye. It was the maidens I noticed first—they were so much like those on the turned-table wheels.

And not just the maidens–the unusual treadle set up, the legs and feet, the axle caps, the table-side grooves, and the spokes and drive wheel– all were remarkably similar to the turned-table wheels. The maker’s mark was different, though—an I (or J): E.L, with some star/sunburst stamps.

Later that week, we took a trip to the home of Anna Thomasson, a weaver who co-wrote a book on daldräll weaving. While there, we were treated to a tour of the home of the mother of Swedish poet Erik Axel Karlfeldt, which is next to Anna’s studio in southern Dalarna. As soon as we entered the house, there it was—another wheel of this style.

Seeing it there made me realize that I had seen others a few days earlier, when visiting the museum home of artists Carl and Karin Larsson in Sundborn, near Falun (post on this visit is here: Sweden, Part 1). While we were not allowed to take photos in the Larsson house, I was sure that one of the wheels there was this style (I have since confirmed it through photos in books). And there was a second one at the nearby exhibit on Karin Larsson and her textiles, which I was able to photograph.

When I returned home, I found that these wheels pop up regularly on Facebook Marketplace in Dalarna. This one said that it was owned by a great-grandmother born in 1893 and from somewhere near Falun.

The Dalarna Museum in Falun also has one, recorded as being from the Husby/Hedemora area, which is in Dalarna, southeast of Falun. (Dalarna museum wheel link). Skansen, Stockholm’s wonderful open-air museum, has another, with the maker’s initials “CWB,” but no information as to where it came from. (Skansen wheel link). With so many of these wheels in the Dalarna area, I was puzzled that there did not seem to be any definitive information on where they were made.

*Ulla and Torvi side-by-side–surely they are related*

From the 18^th to 20^th centuries, Scandinavia had well-known centers of wheel-making, usually in an area with good water power, where multiple wheel-makers, sometimes as many as fifty or more (often related), produced wheels for generations. The distinctive Finnish Kiikkalainen wheels and Norwegian Gylland wheels are good examples. Sweden had several wheel-making centers, including Solberga, Hyssna, and Hjulbäck. Each area’s wheels were immediately recognizable for their particular style and features, but with small variations by the different makers.

Many of these regionally-styled wheels were marketed outside of the areas in which they were made and, perhaps for that reason, many were marked by the wheelmakers. So, while the wheel’s style and features advertised the area in which it was made, it was the initials that advertised the individual maker.

*One of the maker’s marks for the turned table wheels–“AGIS” or “AGJS*“

It seems likely that these Dalarna wheels were made in this same pattern, with multiple wheel-makers in an area making similar wheels. But what area? I am sure there are people Sweden who would be able to immediately identify where these were made, but I have not found them yet. Perhaps I will get lucky and one will read this post. I hope so. In the meantime, a clue has emerged. I found a wheel in same style as Ulla in an old Facebook post. It apparently has some metal on the rim, the initials “GI (or J) S,” several star/sunburst stamps and “Stigsbo” stamped on the table end. Stigsbo is a town on the eastern edge of Dalarna, close to Stjärnsund. In commenting on the wheel, Kirsi Manni, who lives in Dalarna, indicated that wheels made in Stärnsund Parish often have the star stamps on them since “stjärna” means “star” in Swedish. Could the Stigsbo wheel, with similar initials to the turned-table wheels be made by the same maker?

*Another maker’s mark on a turned table wheel–probably “AGIS”*

But why has only one wheel been found with a place name on it? From what I understand, Stigsbo today is tiny–were there multiple wheelmakers in the area, but spread out, perhaps in the triangle between Stigsbo, Falun, and Hedemora? My research has been hindered by my poor Swedish language skills. Nevertheless, I have not been able to find anything discussing this area as a hotbed of wheel-making. Unfortunately, I have not been able to make contact with owner of the Stigsbo wheel to get permission to post photos. But the initials bear a resemblance to the first example above.

So, the mystery lingers as to where these wheels were made. Oddly enough, while researching them, one came up for sale in Massachusetts. It is highly unusual to find any Swedish wheels for sale in New England, so I jumped on it.

Painted a greenish-blue, with an unpainted drive wheel and flyer for contrast, Ulla is a beauty and spins almost as effortlessly as her relative, Torvi.

The drive wheel was very dark with old oil and dirt, but cleaned up to reveal striking wood grain.

It does not have the simple spokes of the other wheels of this style.

And the drive wheel fits oddly between the uprights, leading me to believe it may be a replacement.

The spokes are pegged through the outside of the rim, which is probably how they are pegged on Torvi, although we cannot tell because Torvi’s rim is covered in metal.

The hub construction is quite interesting and there appears to be some hemp or other material around the axle where it goes through the hub.

It has the distinctive style of axle cap found on these wheels.

One is cracked almost through, so I temporarily wrapped it with some linen.

The table sides are grooved

and there is a gouge in the middle, which is presumed to be from a knife or other tool, used to manipulate the drive band cross, perhaps for plying (I have not yet seen a definitive explanation for why the knife was used—only speculation).

There are also fainter semi-circular marks on the table that seem to show up from time to time on wheels–a history of a spinner’s habit of tapping something, perhaps the orifice end of the flyer, on the table for some unknown purpose.

The four-layer leather flyer bearings secured with metal are typical for Swedish wheels.

The flyer is in wonderful shape

and, given the amount of wear on the treadle, might be a replacement or second or third flyer made for the wheel.

Most of the wheels I have seen of this style show extensive wear on the treadles. They must have been real work horses. Ulla’s drop-in treadle and pointy toes are characteristic of this style.

Interestingly, the non-spinner side leg has a metal spike, just like Torvi.

The maker’s initials are a little hard to make out, but appear to be “CGWB.”

It is stamped twice on each side of the tension knob, but there are no star/sunburst stamps. The bottom of the treadle is marked in pencil “55.”

I did not remove the legs or the uprights to check for numbers (as Torvi has) because they were tightly shimmed in place before the wheel was painted.

*You can see the shim for the upright, which has been painted over*

As with the turned-table wheels, there are two keeper pegs for the tension screw.

But, in contrast with Torvi, there is no wooden screw and nut under the mother-of-all.

The uprights are secured under the table with one piece of wood through both.

The paint shows wear in all the expected places and enhances the interest and beauty of the wheel.

With all of the similarities between these Ulla-style wheels and the Torvi turned-table style wheels, it looks as if they all were made in the same region, but with multiple makers. If we can pinpoint with some certainty the town or towns where these wheels were made, it will make it worthwhile to research the maker’s initials to try to determine who they were. Stigsbo will be a starting place. If any one has more clues, however small, please let me know.

Torvi

On January 10, 2024January 12, 2024 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, Swedish spinning wheel7 Comments

Simply put, I love this Swedish wheel. Metal clad, with a long and rounded waist, it is utterly unique. To top it off, it is one of the most pleasurable wheels for spinning that I have ever used.

The table, if you can call it that, is unusual from end to end. There is a good-sized hole in the wheel end, perhaps where it was mounted on a lathe.

Each end of the table top is cut flat, making room for the wheel posts and mother-of-all. Likewise, the whole length of the table bottom is flat.

But between each flat end, the table top narrows and rounds to a caterpillar-like middle, making it easy to pick up and carry.

The wood is nicely turned but knot-ridden. Several areas still retain some dark bark.

The sides of the flat sections have multiple grooves.

But most interesting is the galvanized metal neatly covering the table at the flyer end.

Its spangled surface gives the wheel a slightly festive look.

Unlike the familiar silver of modern galvanized steel, this metal is a golden greenish color.

The mother-of-all sits atop the metal and is tightened in place with an under-table wooden screw.

Two keeper pegs flank the tension screw.

A distaff hole is on the spinner’s side, but the distaff has been lost.

Scribe marks are found throughout, most utilitarian, but some appearing to be decorative.

The maidens have three-tiered tops.

The leather bearing is a sandwich of four thick layers, cut in a distinctive style.

The flyer is relatively petite, perfect for flax.

Two maker’s marks are embedded in the table end along with several star/sunburst/wheel stamps.

Another maker’s mark, on the table top, is easier to make out.

It appears to be “A P J S” or “A upside-down-G J S. “

The drive wheel has six sections/felloes with radial joints.

The joints are unusual in that each felloe has either mortises or tenons on its ends, rather than one on each end, which seems to be more common.

Moreover, the tenons do not extend all the way into the mortise, but instead butt up against a second small piece of wood.

Each joint is pegged. The spokes, however, which straddle a small step on the inside rim, do not have any visible pegs and likely are pegged through the outside of the rim. We cannot tell for sure, though, because the rim is encased in more galvanized metal.

The axle arm for the footman is straight rather than curved or S-shaped

and the axle caps appear to made from “masur,” a curly birch found in Scandinavia and Russia, including some areas of Sweden.

The treadle is encased in metal, which has started to rust.

The foot-side treadle bar has one metal-encased end and rests and pivots in a cross bar, also partly encased in metal.

One pivot pin is covered by a small, rotating wooden piece.

Thick metal wire attaches the footman to the treadle bar.

The elegant pointed feet extend through the cross bar.

Variations on this drop-in style of treadle are often seen on Finnish wheels.

The non-spinner side foot has a nail embedded in the bottom, something often found in Quebec wheels.

It seems with so many unique features—the turned table, the galvanized metal, the masur wood, the initials–we should be able to find out where this wheel was made. But I have not been able to find its maker or town of origin, although I think we are getting close. The seller of my wheel bought it in Dalarna many years ago when she lived in Sweden. Dalarna is a traditional province (landskap) and administrative county (län) in central Sweden with a rich cultural tradition of handcrafts.

There are about a dozen of these wheels of which I am aware (I am sure there are plenty more in Sweden) and many have some association with Dalarna. I first learned of them on Ravelry where Sheila MacIsaac, who lives in Scotland, started a discussion about a likely Swedish wheel that she had recently bought. Sheila’s wheel appears older than mine, with rusted metal and no metal at all on the treadle.

The initials on her wheel are slightly different, too.

They appear to be “A G J S(backwards).” Another wheel on Ravelry came over to the U.S. from Stöde, Sweden (north of Dalarna) where it was given to the owner’s great-grandmother in 1894. Its maker’s mark is similar to mine but the second letter appears to be a backwards “G.” A third belonged to a family who had lived in the southeast part of Dalarna before coming to the U.S. Interestingly, that wheel does not have a maker’s mark, but the handwritten number “17” on various parts. While my wheel does not have numbers on the outside of the parts, I did discover numbers penciled in hidden areas where the wheel uprights (number 3)

*This wheel upright has a slender shim that appears to have been inserted when the wheel was made*

and legs (number 2) are inserted into the table.

Also, several of these wheels have shown up on sale sites, including this wheel in Norway.

While the turned part is thicker, the maidens, drive wheel, and metal covered table appear to be very similar to the others. Another wheel recently for sale came to the U.S. from Sweden with the seller’s ancestors. But the only information she had on where they had lived was that an uncle worked at a copper mine. That mine would likely have been the large Falun mine, which is in Dalarna, too.

The Dalarna connection was reinforced by the photo above of two wheels, which Swedish spinner, weaver, and teacher, Marie Ekstedt Bjersing, posted on Facebook. The wheels are part of the collection at Sätergläntan, a century-old handcraft school in Insjön, a small town in the middle of Dalarna.

The wheels were donated to the school by two different people, and, from what Marie knows, they were from southern Dalarna. I was fortunate to take a weaving class at Sätergläntan this past summer and soon after I arrived, made a beeline to to their wheel collection to check out the two wheels.

Both are in good condition. One has initials almost identical to those on my wheel

and the other one’s are similar to those on Sheila’s wheel.

I made some inquiries locally (with help) to see if anyone had a clue as to where these wheels were made, but came up empty-handed.

*The axle cap appears to be curly birch on this one, too*

I spent some time spinning flax on one of the wheels and, as with mine, it is a joy to spin on. As Sheila commented about her wheel, the spinning is “almost effortless.” Whether it is the metal on the rim giving the wheel some extra weight and momentum, something about the long low design, or some other design feature, these wheels have a spinning quality that is hard to match.

While examining Sätergläntan’s wheel collection, another wheel caught my eye. Although it had a flat table, the drive wheel, spokes, drop in treadle, maidens and grooved sides were markedly similar to the turned-table, metal-clad wheels. The initials were different, but the wheels certainly appeared to be related somehow.

Could it provide some clues? Maybe. More to come in the next blog post.

Thank you to Sheila and Marie for permission to use their photos.

Update on January 12, 2024: Just as this was posted, another of the thicker-waisted versions of this style wheel came up for sale in Hofors, Sweden, which is just east of Dalarna. It only has metal on the table under the mother-of-all. But, as with my wheel, there is what appears to be bark left on the table edge.

Amalia

On December 4, 2023December 4, 2023 By BrendaIn antique spinning wheel, Swedish spinning wheel8 Comments

This wheel’s distinctive profile is immediately recognizable from across a room. Its rakish slant, impressive drive wheel, and closely set double upright supports combine for a unmistakable look. The wheel’s previous owner had brought the wheel to New Hampshire from Gothenburg, Sweden, where she had been living.

As far as she knew, the wheel had been made locally, somewhere near Gothenburg. A few sister wheels have shown up on Facebook and Ravelry, but with little information as to their origins. Recently, however, another showed up online as part of the “Lin on Me” linen exhibit at the Rydals Museum in Rydal, Sweden, east of Gothenburg. I checked with the museum and with others in Sweden knowledgeable about antique wheels and, while there seems to be agreement that the wheels are from Västra Götaland, the county (län) surrounding Gothenburg, no one seems to know the maker or town in which they were made.

They share some similarities with the beautiful Solberga wheels, but those typically are double rimmed. The photo below is a Solberga wheel, also from Västra Götaland. The photo is from the Upplandsmuseet, with more details here in Digitalt Museum: https://digitaltmuseum.se/011023874843/spinnrock

In the photo above, a woman is spinning in Bolum, also in Västra Götaland. Although the wheel is different than Amalia, it shares many features. More information on this photo is found here: https://digitaltmuseum.se/021017212168/spinning. For anyone researching Swedish wheels, I highly recommend the DigitaltMuseum: https://digitaltmuseum.se/search/?q=spinnrock&o=0&n=60 The search term “spinnrock” yields photographs from eight museums.

As with the Solberga wheels, Amalia’s most striking feature is the drive wheel.

With a 27 inch diameter, sixteen spokes, and decorative finial/half spokes, it was designed both for beauty and fast spinning. And there is no doubt this wheel was valued for its spinning, with telltale signs of heavy use. The axle area is so deeply encrusted with old grease, I hesitated to try to unscrew the axle retaining pegs. I did unscrew one, but left the other in place.

the back-side axle emerges from a sheath of thin crumpled metal.

The front had badly worn the bearing, requiring a bit of propping.

The paint wear on the spinner’s side is fascinating.

One maiden, one upright support, the table side,

and one leg have been rubbed clean of paint, revealing the smooth lustrous wood underneath.

It is interesting to speculate just how the wear occurred–perhaps a combination of hands and clothing (large skirts and sleeves, perhaps?) rubbing against the wheel for hours, days, months, and years.

Most of the treadle paint has worn off completely.

The treadle paint and wood wear show that the wheel was often treadled with two feet. The treadle bar appears to have been designed for treadling that way, with its widened sweep to easily accommodate and support the left foot.

The uphill leg was replaced and painted a lighter green.

All of the wheels of this style that I have seen were painted with a very dark green paint. In contrast, the flyer is not painted, which is not unusual on painted Scandinavian wheels.

On the other hand, it might indicate that the flyer is not original to the wheel.

Especially because it does not show as heavy use as the rest of the wheel. The flyer hooks are quite large.

The leather bearings look like they could be original.

The spinner-side flyer bearing is four-layered leather, riveted with nails.

To see how such bearings were made, here is a superb 1964 video of Swedish wheel maker, August Jonsson: Spinnrocken.

Amalia’s wheel is missing one spoke and several of the small half-spoke/finials. The wheel rim is unusually constructed with eight alternating short and long sections.

To help support the large wheel, there are long, smooth secondary uprights running down to each leg.

The drive wheel’s arched-top double upright supports are most often associated with Finnish wheels. But they are found on Swedish wheels, too. These are closer together than most, which add to this wheel’s elegant style.

The table is made of fairly coarse grained wood, rough on the underside, but with nicely turned (and worm/beetle hole riddled) bottoms to the upright supports. Several have old shims.

There is a spinner-side distaff hole, but no distaff.

And the table end and openings are nicely chip-carved.

The distance between the flyer and the drive wheel is very short, which is somewhat unusual for Swedish wheels. It does allow for a large drive wheel to fit in a smaller footprint, although the wheel is quite tall. As for spinning, the wheel is fast, smooth, and effortless. Hats off to her maker, wherever he was.