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International Womens Day: Meet Hannah Ryggen.

Autorenbild: LisaLisa

Aktualisiert: 8. März



Happy International Women’s Day – or what I prefer even: Happy feministischer Kampftag!


I started sharing stories about female artists who often were really badass and interesting in other ways on the 8th of March, because we should all know more about them anyways. And since we need it more than ever today, I want to introduce you to a wonderful female artist who also just happens to be a pacifist and fierce anti-fascist: Let me tell you about Hannah Ryggen!


Hannah Ryggen was a Swedish-Norwegian painter turned textile artist, known for her large-scale tapestries with strong political and societal themes.

Ryggen was a classically trained painter and always described her tapestry as paintings and not like a craft. She married the Norwegian painter Hans Ryggen, who built her a special kind of loom (Webstuhl) that allowed her to translate her paintings into tapestry. Living near Trondheim in Norway, she started making and working with natural dyes that became distinct for her work. But besides her very recognisable style and color usage, Ryggen was always known to have intense political themes in the centre of her work.


Drømmedød


In 1937 she made Drømmedød (“Death of Dreams”), in which she depicts Hitler, Goebbels, and Göring as the literal killers of the personified dream in the center of the piece, while art, science, and culture are imprisoned; symbolized by Albert Einstein with a violin in his hand and the pacifist Carl von Ossietzky in shackles, all framed by swastikas.

In 1937, one of her tapestries was shown – but only in part – at the World Exhibition in Paris. Why only in part? Well, it was a piece that showed solidarity with the people of Ethiopia facing an invasion by the Italian fascists, symbolised by raised hands but also, more importantly, by Mussolini’s head on a pike. Yes, you read that correctly. The message wasn’t exactly subtle, and as you can see, she never tried to be subtle or quiet in her work.


Ethiopia


In 1943, she depicted the execution of the Norwegian theatre director Henry Gleditsch by the fascist German occupators in a tapestry. It shows Hitler as some kind of puppeteer behind the scene, flying over the body of Gleditsch, shitting or farting oak leaves. Again, not subtle, but a powerful and angry commentary on the killing of a important figure in the resistance and the cultural scene in Norway at that time. It also depicts Churchill in a fortress, a boat with refugees, and so many more symbols that it’s honestly too much for this short overview.


6. oktober 1942

As you can tell: Ryggen was very vocal about her opposition to fascism, so when Germany invaded Norway, she of course did not hold back. Her husband was also part of the Norwegian resistance, smuggling weapons. He was caught in 1944 and sent to a labor camp, which he luckily survived. One of her tapestries shows Hans Ryggen and his rescue from the camp, a somewhat beautiful and hopeful depiction while still showing the horrors of the encampment.


"Grini" showing Hans Ryggen in the labor encampment


She also made tapestries commenting on the Spanish fascists, the murder of resistance fighter Liselotte Herrmann, the economic crisis of the 1920s and its roots in capitalism, nuclear armament, and a personal critique of Norway joining NATO.


One of my absolute favourites, and quite a late piece, is her critique of the Vietnam War, featuring a wonderfully ridiculous depiction of Lyndon B. Johnson in a grotesque cowboy outfit, with his famous beagle standing right next to bloody fields of grass, that symbolise the war-battered landscape of Vietnam.


Blod i gresset


In the 2011 terrorist attacks from right-wing terrorist Anders Breivik one of Ryggens most impressive pieces “vi lever pa en stjerne” was partly destroyed when he detonated a bomb right in front of government buildings in downtown Oslo. The piece is an ode to love, life and the earth we are living on and was supposed to focus on the vast beauty of life after the horrors of the second world war when Ryggen made it in 1956. It is almost ironic that this piece was also one of the things that got battered that day by the right-wing terror spree. It is now mended, but the mended “scars” are visible and now a grim reminder of the resurfacing of right-wing terror in Europe.


Vi lever på en stjerne


There is so much more to explore with Ryggen, like her constant engagement in public education and her work around early feminist themes, including her own personal and bigger societal struggles with motherhood.


But today, I just want to highlight two things:

  1. Taking back art forms that seem uninteresting, outdated, or “less valuable” is important. Woven art has been looked down on for centuries as “women’s work,” but Ryggen’s work is bold, intense, and modern. We can do the same now (just think of all the crafts you could use to express yourself instead of relying on AI, for example).


  2. Being politically vocal, not in a subtle, academic way, but in a loud and unapologetic way, is important. Now more than ever. Nothing is as complicated as they want you to think it is. You can say: fascism is back, and it is embarrassing, scary, and loud. But we will be just as loud. We will laugh at them, and we will oppose them anyway.



So in that sense: Alerta, alerta, antifascista! Hannah Ryggen truly was a one-of-a-kind badass woman.



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