Art On Fabric

It was an ordinary afternoon in 2004. I was heading home from work and decided to stop by a flea market near my home in Stockholm, Sweden. My passion for antiques, design, and art had always been there, but fabrics were a relatively new interest – something practical and everyday, used for interiors or clothing. Yet, this day was different. Something in the stacks of fabric caught my attention. Out of the corner of my eye, I recognised the familiar brand name: Marimekko. With a price tag of just 20 kronor, I decided to take the fabric home with me. 

Once home, I spread the fabric out on the floor and immediately fell in love with it. It was a true “wow” moment. I remember thinking, “This is art – on fabric.” The print was called Melooni and had been designed for Marimekko by Maija Isola in 1963. That fabric marked the beginning of a journey of discoveries: what fascinated me in Finnish printed fabrics were their exciting colour combinations, conveying a sense of freedom and vibrancy – something I had not experienced as clearly in Swedish textile design. 

My many trips to Helsinki and meetings with Finnish designers and their relatives further fuelled my curiosity, leading me to focus increasingly on Finnish fabrics.  

Perhaps that afternoon wasn’t just an ordinary day but a pivotal event that would shape my future and eventually lead to my profession. 

Over the following years, I started buying, selling, collecting, and researching fabrics I found at flea markets and auctions. The fabrics were often inexpensive, but finding information about the prints proved to be a challenging yet exciting task. Marimekko stood out as an exception – its fabrics were always signed, and information was available in books and magazines. Old fashion and interior design magazines became my personal “fabric university.” When I began working as a freelance writer, libraries and archives in museums became natural places for me to gather information about textiles and their designers. These institutions were treasure troves of resources. 

A decade later, in 2014, another seemingly ordinary event deepened my interest in and knowledge of Finnish fabrics.

A customer holding a fabric bolt came by the retro shop I was running with two others in Stockholm. We had a varied selection of items in the store, from vintage fabrics and porcelain to furniture. The customer wanted to sell a fabric signed “Marimekko, Floora” and “Kerstin Ratia 1969.” Since I didn’t recall such a name, I ran a little research – yet nothing turned up. However, when I shared a picture of the fabric on Instagram, I received an immediate response: “That’s my fabric,” wrote Kerstin Enbom, as she is now known. The mystery was solved.

I maintained contact with Kerstin, and later that year, she invited me to her home in Immersby, Finland. Inspired by our meeting, I decided to write an article about her when the editor-in-chief of Scandinavian Retro magazine approached me. This marked the beginning of an exciting freelance writing career with the magazine – a path I could never have foreseen – and Helsinki became an important place in my life, both personally and professionally. 

Kerstin Wallin’s life with Marimekko began in the summer of 1961 when, at the age of 16, she was walking along a country road near Sköldvik, close to Porvoo, Finland. A red sports car came speeding by, pulled the brakes, and stopped in front of Kerstin. Behind the wheel sat Ristomatti Ratia, son of Armi Ratia, the founder of Marimekko. 

“You’re wearing our shirt,” he said to Kerstin. “We’ll meet in Helsinki tomorrow” – and so they did. It was love at first sight, and from that day on, Marimekko became a round-the-clock part of Kerstin’s life – as a wife, designer, model, stylist, interior decorator, and daughter-in-law of Armi Ratia. Between 1966 and 1979, Kerstin Ratia designed 48 prints for Marimekko’s fashion fabrics and 38 prints for interior textiles. 

A few years later, when I was free to choose any textile designer to write about, my choice was clear: Lena Rewell. Her unique patterns and colours had captivated my interest for quite some time, but I realised I knew little about her life and career. I sent an email to Lena and quickly received a positive reply from her daughter Dita, who now runs the Lena Rewell company. Dita mentioned they were in Paris at the time but would be happy to answer my questions as soon as they returned to Helsinki. 

I feel that Lena Rewell’s prints have a truly distinctive character. They are colourful and often instantly recognisable due to their intricate details, making them one of a kind. When I asked Lena what inspired her, she replied: “Colours, colours, colours.” Her printed fabrics created in the 1960s and 1970s were produced by renowned Finnish textile companies Tampella and Finlayson. Many of these designs became commercial successes, and Lena was the first textile designer to receive royalties from sales of her designs at Finlayson. For her, it was obvious that her name was to be included on the edge of the fabric. 

Lena established her own company, Lena Rewell Textile Studio, in 1963. Already during her studies at Helsinki’s School of Art and Design, she collaborated with weavers to produce fluffy mohair throws adorned with thick fringes. Lena Rewell gained international recognition, and her collaborations with renowned Parisian fashion houses further cemented her reputation in fashion and interior design. 

Meeting Lena Rewell and her daughter Dita was an invaluable experience for me, both professionally and personally. Their friendship and support opened doors to new connections, one of which was textile designer Raili Konttinen. I had recently discovered Raili’s prints in my own collection and was eager to learn more about her work. 

In February 2019, I made an impromptu decision to meet Raili Konttinen and quickly flew to Helsinki. We arranged to meet at the Ateneum art museum’s café in central Helsinki. 

Lena Rewell and her daughter Dita joined me as interpreters. When Raili arrived, she had a shopping trolley filled with design portfolios. It turned into a magical and inspiring meeting, where I learned more about the art and partnership of Raili and her husband, Juhani Konttinen.

Before the trip, I had reviewed the Raili Konttinen designs in my collection, especially those she created for the textile house Porin Puuvilla. I began to grasp the great variation in the styles she had explored throughout her career. I discovered graphic patterns, intricate details, floral motifs, and patterns varying in scale from large to small. Every design in her portfolios highlighted her versatility as a designer. This versatility may explain why, in the spring of 1955, she received a phone call from Kaj Franck, one of Finland’s most renowned designers and her former teacher at the School of Art and Design in Helsinki. That call marked a turning point in her life and career. 

“I was thrilled when Kaj Franck called and asked if I wanted to design prints for Porin Puuvilla,” she told me. 

A year later, Juhani Konttinen joined the studio at Porin Puuvilla, and their connection was immediate. 

“From that day on, it was just him and me,” Raili said with a smile when I visited her home in Helsinki in 2024. 

Their creative partnership resulted in hundreds of prints, many of which became bestsellers still found in homes in Finland and Sweden today. Juhani Konttinen also worked as a photographer and graphic designer for Porin Puuvilla. In addition to freelance photography assignments for Finnish newspapers, he often travelled to Paris for fashion shoots. Raili frequently accompanied him on these trips.  

The year 2019 was a busy one as I wrote about six Finnish textile designers simultaneously. In August, I returned to Helsinki and met Marjatta Sarpaneva in Lauttasaari. Her enthusiasm for her husband Timo Sarpaneva’s work and his Ambiente collection was truly inspiring. 

In 1965, a malfunctioning printing press at Rosenlew’s paper mill in Pori caused ink to spray uncontrollably across the paper. Timo Sarpaneva saw beauty in the way the colours blended and drew inspiration from this. His first wife, Pi Sarpaneva, who worked at Tampella, suggested applying the same technique to fabrics. These textiles were named Ambiente. 

Pi Sarpaneva designed a collection of garments from Ambiente fabrics for Salon Leninkitukku (later Finn Flare). Some of these pieces, along with prints Pi created for Tampella, are included in this exhibition. 

The combination of Timo’s innovative textiles and Pi’s creative fashion designs demonstrates an exciting interplay between textile art and fashion. 

A few days later, I visited the textile artist Anneli Airikka Lammi in Helsinki. Anneli’s home, shared with her husband, was brimming with colour and beautiful art she had created herself. The table was set with vibrant textiles, surrounded by an impressive array of pastries and drinks. Anneli exuded warmth and kindness, and this atmosphere permeated the entire meeting. 

Anneli Airikka Lammi knew from the age of twelve that she wanted to be an artist. 

“Inspiration for colours came from Marimekko, and the patterns came from my heart,” she said, showing me an impressive array of designs created during her career as a freelance textile designer for Tampella, E. Helenius, and IKEA. Floral and animal motifs were common themes in her work, and one particularly vibrant rainbow print caught my attention. Many of Anneli’s designs were exported to Sweden, Europe, and the USA. 

Before arriving in Helsinki, Lena Rewell had arranged a meeting with the Ornamo Art and Design Finland association. They connected me with textile designer Saara Hirvisalo, who called me the same day: “Hello, this is Saara. My daughter can drive me to Helsinki on Saturday. Does that work for you?”  

I naturally said yes.  

On Saturday, at twelve on the dot, Saara Hirvisalo arrived at our meeting holding an overflowing bag of print designs. When we passed through the gallery doors, Saara stopped, turned towards me and said: 

“I couldn’t believe that you called me, I thought everyone had forgotten about me.”

Her words pierced my heart, and I wanted to do something about it. A warm connection formed between us, and we have kept in touch ever since.   

After graduating from Helsinki’s School of Art and Design in 1961, Saara Hirvisalo began working at a Marimekko store in Helsinki. She stayed there for four years before becoming chief designer at Tikkurilan Silkki in 1965. At the time, Tikkurilan Silkki was a leading producer of jacquard-woven textiles in the Nordic region.

Evenings provided Saara with quiet moments to sketch in her office at the factory. She did not seek external inspiration, for instance from nature – her ideas flowed freely from her imagination.

Saara’s colourful prints crossed Finland’s borders and gained popularity in Sweden, where they remain admired today. In the early 1970s, seeking greater creative freedom, she transitioned to freelance work, which led to commissions from Tampella and E. Helenius. 

During the same visit to Helsinki in 2019, I met a professor of textiles at a flea market. Over coffee, she gave me the contact details for textile designer Kaarina Kellomäki. I emailed Kaarina as soon as I returned to Stockholm and quickly received a long and inspiring reply. We arranged to meet the following year at the Kiasma museum’s café in Helsinki. 

When we finally met, Kaarina had prepared a list of places to visit and things to do, as she had many contacts in the field. We started with a trip to the Forssa Museum, where I admired many of the prints she had created for Finlayson. Her passion and expertise in textile design are impressive, and I admire the positive energy she radiates and generously shares with others. 

Kaarina Kellomäki’s career took off when she was hired as a designer by Marimekko at the age of 22, freshly graduated from Helsinki’s School of Art and Design (known as “Ateneum” after its location) in 1965. The following year, nine of her print designs went into production. Her prints Sonaatti and Linssi (both from 1966) are still produced today and are among her personal favourites.  

“I think what made Marimekko special was its colours and the way shades were blended,” Kaarina said.

Yearning for greater freedom and full of ideas, she became a freelance designer in 1966. Between 1967 and 1971, she sold many designs to Swedish textile companies such as Mölnlycke and Borås Wäfveri. The travels between Helsinki and Gothenburg followed a minute-per-minute schedule. 

“I left home early in the morning and would most often return by the same evening”, she told me.  

All in all, Kaarina Kellomäki designed around 800 prints for companies such as Finlayson, who allowed her to experiment more with colours – something she felt restricted in at Marimekko. To this day, Kaarina remains an active textile designer and has held several exhibitions in both Finland and internationally.  

For the final designer featured in my series, I selected Viola Gråsten. I will share a bit more about her than the others, as she is likely the least well-known of the textile designers I have introduced in Finland and outside of Sweden. 

Viola Gråsten was renowned for her integrity and for allowing only a select few into her inner circle. She avoided interviews, which added to the sense of mystery surrounding both her personality and her work. She did not strive for perfection, considering it dull. She often said that colours are the most fun thing there is.

Born into a Swedish-speaking Finnish family in Keuruu in 1910, Viola Gråsten was a prominent ryijy textile artist in Finland during the 1930s and 1940s. Today, she is less recognised in Finland, while in Sweden, she is regarded as one of the most influential textile designers from the 1940s to the 1970s.

Viola graduated from the Central School of Art and Design in Helsinki in 1936, laying the foundation for her future career. After completing her studies, she worked at the Friends of Finnish Handicraft design organisation, but the upheavals of World War II and the shortage of yarn in Finland prompted her to move to Sweden. She reached out to Elsa Gullberg, a renowned Swedish textile artist, who welcomed her to Stockholm. Gråsten’s major breakthrough came in the 1950s at the Nordiska Kompaniet (NK) department store’s in-house textile studio, which was then led by Astrid Sampe, a brilliant and modern artistic director. Astrid Sampe appreciated new and fresh ideas, and she had an extensive network of contacts both in Sweden and internationally. 

In 1952, Viola Gråsten’s design Oomph was displayed in NK’s light hall in Stockholm, where it attracted considerable attention. The print’s bold colour combinations and dancing triangles shocked some viewers, but many, especially the younger generation, loved the fabric design. Oomph defied the prevailing rules for colour combinations in Sweden at the time: blue, green, and violet were not to be combined, nor were pink, red, and orange. Oomph became a commercial success and the first so-called “all-purpose fabric,” suitable for both interior decoration and fashion. Following this success, Viola Gråsten became a beloved textile designer in Sweden and abroad. 

Viola Gråsten loved designing prints, and colour was always at the centre of her work. She chose her colours in advance, before sketching the pattern, and once the idea had matured and inspiration struck, she worked quickly and without interruption. For her, it was a playful exploration of colours and shapes, and she did not tolerate being disturbed. Once a pattern was completed, she set it aside, and notably, she never created new versions of her designs. She wanted to preserve the originality and creative freshness of the initial idea. 

Viola Gråsten often switched fields if something started to go wrong. This may have been one reason why she resigned from NK’s textile studio in 1956 and the following year joined the Mölnlycke corporation in Gothenburg. Her solo exhibition Brud och Hem (Bride and Home) at NK’s textile studio in 1955 was the highlight of her career. She had become a celebrated textile designer and a star. Her move to Mölnlycke marked the beginning of an exciting new phase in her life, focusing mainly on fashion designs and industrial printing.  

The Hassel print from 1959 was the last design Viola Gråsten created as part of the collaboration between NK’s textile studio and Mölnlycke. It was her favourite design and the only one she had hung on the wall of her home. 

I live in Stockholm, but I travel to Helsinki as often as I can. I love Helsinki’s people, architecture, design, and sense of tranquillity. Two decades ago, I began collecting Marimekko fabrics. Over the years, Marimekko’s textiles and the company’s history have served as a guiding thread for me, inspiring me to explore the stories of more Finnish designers and their prints.

For the past ten years, I have lectured on Finnish and Swedish textile designs in Sweden and more recently in Finland. I have produced and curated several textile exhibitions in both countries. The most recent, Marimekko – Design i tiden (Design in Time), was held at the Kristinehamn Art Museum in Sweden in the summer of 2023. 

My workload has grown, reflecting an increasing interest in the history and prints of Finnish textiles in both Sweden and Finland. This brings me great joy, as sharing the knowledge I have accumulated over the years has become my passion. I also want to encourage others to discover and appreciate Finnish textile design and to enjoy its colours and patterns. 

I would like to thank EMMA – Espoo Museum of Modern Art for their collaboration, both during the preparation of this exhibition and throughout its run. 

 

 

Translation: Simo Vassinen