The Fiber Art of Yuli Sömme

text by Guy Cracknell and Terri Windling

Shetland wool with yarn inlay

Fiber artist Yuli Sömme lives on the edge of Dartmoor in England, where she works in a converted stable down a long country lane from her home. Yuli specializes in making felt. Not the flimsy “fuzzy felt” of childhood art projects, but the ancient folk art of felt-making, hand-created in the traditional manner.

Felt-making is one of the oldest of human arts, pre–dating the spinning of thread and the weaving of cloth. Wall paintings found in Turkey, dated 6500–3000 BC, picture the motifs of felt appliqué; and in Siberia, felt was discovered in a tomb from the fifth century BC. The Romans used felt for breastplates and boots, as did the early tribes of Scandinavia. In Norway, felt sheets were found in a tomb dating back to the Iron Age. Today, felt-making is still a thriving art in various cultures around the world, particularly in Turkey, where it's used for rugs and hats; in Scandinavia, where it's used for hats and boots; and in Mongolia, where nomadic tribes live in sturdy tents made of felt, called yurts. Modern fiber artists like Yuli Sömme are learning and adapting the ancient craft, developing new techniques and new applications for this primitive, beautiful fabric.

“Steinbird” wallhanging, detail

Yuli was born in Norway to an English mother and Norwegian father, and both of these cultural heritages are reflected in her work. She spent her early childhood in the town of Molde (now famous for its Jazz Festival), where milk delivered by horse–and–cart was poured into enamel pails, and where she remembers reading "eventyr" (the troll-filled stories of Norwegian lore). At a young age Yuli learned to embroider and knit in the Norwegian tradition, in intricate snowflake patterns. She was also fascinated by the colorful folk arts of Norway and of Finland's Sami people (the reindeer-herding tribes of the northern forests), folk arts which her father obtained while working with the Sami as a biologist.

two views: Seamless jacket with bell sleeves; Shetland wool with flax inlay

When Yuli was five, her beloved father died, and her family moved to Devon, England to be near her mother's relatives. Struggling to adjust to a new country and culture, Yuli felt most at ease in the world of nature—exploring the woods, hedgerows, and fields in the countryside surrounding Dartmouth. As she grew older, she retained her love of nature and her love of making things, but she had no clear idea of what to do when she reached adulthood.

Shetland wool scarf with yarn inlay

In her late teens, however, she discovered she had a passion for fibers and textiles—and she found herself drawn to the old country crafts of spinning, weaving, and using natural dyes. “I spent some time travelling in New Zealand,” she recalls, “where I worked on organic farms with people who had sheep and knew about spinning wool. I also traveled in Central America, where I was fascinated by Guatemalan weaving.” When she returned to England, she studied weaving formally at Bradford Industrial College. Afterwards, she worked at Coldharbour Mill Working Wool Museum in Uffculme, East Devon, researching the history of the cottage weaving industry in the area, and setting up a “Weaver's Cottage” display. She later worked on power looms (and still uses the mill for carding today).

“Pointies”—hats of Shetland wool with yarn inlay

“Spinning thread, weaving, and sewing cloth has been a constant part of daily life for most people—particularly for women—through most of our human history,” Yuli points out, “right up until the Industrial Revolution, when homespun thread and cloth and the local products of small cottage industries were replaced by manufactured threads and textiles from large factories. A country woman's hands were rarely idle, even in the evening hours. If she wasn't up tending other work of the house or farm she'd be sitting spinning, knitting, weaving, or sewing—sometimes with groups of other women doing the same thing. As they worked together, they'd be gossiping, spreading local news, telling stories, singing songs to help the hours pass. Fairy tales or 'old wives tales' are associated with circles of women spinning or weaving—as are many folk songs, such as the “waulking songs” sung by hand weavers in the Scottish islands.”

Seamless ancestral coat; Polworth fleece with yarn inlay

Guiding visitors around the Working Wool Museum, Yuli was surprised by how few people today actually know how thread and cloth is made. “They'd never seen a spinning wheel before,” she says, “and often they'd have the mistaken idea that it could turn raw wool into finished cloth without any intervening steps! It's odd to think how ignorant most people in the West are today of these ancient, basic crafts. We're as removed from the production of the cloth we wear as we are from the production of the food we eat.”

“Steinbirds” wallhanging

As she progressed in her weaving, Yuli began to feel limited by weaving's constraints—by the vertical and horizontal line of the loom—but she was as enamored as ever with the colors and textures of fiber. She honed her drawing skills with help from her husband, artist Nicky Scott, and with the book Drawing on the Right Side of the Brain by Betty Edwards. She then went back to school for two more years to study art and design. Weaving was put on hold as it didn't fit in with the school's curriculum—but she still had plenty of wool on hand, so she put it to use by making felt. Felt, she discovered, fit more easily into her course, for she could use the medium in a variety of ways: in painting, in sculpture, and as a material for rendering masks and costume designs.

Cap and waistcoat in Shetland wool

The more Yuli worked with felt, the more intrigued she was with its creative potential, and she liked the fact that she was now working with fiber in its most raw state. Unlike other textiles, in which a fiber is spun into thread and then knitted or woven into fabric, felt is a non-structured material. It's made by washing, dying and combing (carding) raw wool, laying out wool fibers layer by layer, then decorating, wetting, and rolling these layers—for it's the wetting and rolling process that transforms the fibers into fabric. Wool fiber, when looked at under a microscope, is made up of many tiny scales. When the wool is wetted, the scales swell up—and as the fibres are rolled back and forth, the friction causes the scales to interlock and shrink, resulting in felt.

“Beanie,” Shetland wool, yarn inlay

When Yuli turned from weaving to felt-making, she'd found her natural medium, and she began to build a thriving business exhibiting and selling her distinctive work: garments, bags, wall-hangings, even burial shrouds, all made of felt. In 2000, she received a Craft Award to study traditional felt-making in Turkey, and she continues to explore felting techniques as practiced around the world. She has developed her own unique style—influenced by Norwegian and English folk designs, and by her love of country life and natural forms, yet also thoroughly modern, using traditional techniques in boldly innovative ways. Her wool comes from local Dartmoor farms, particularly those featuring special breeds of sheep. She favors the nimble little Shetlands, whose wool runs in shades from cream to chocolate brown, but she also uses wool from Merino and Merino crosses (such as the Polwarth and the Corriedale), and from rarer breeds such as the Swedish Gotland, the Black Welsh Mountain, and the North Ronaldsay. In addition, she incorporates handspun yarns and woven textile fragments as decoration within her felt.

Seamless jacket with 3/4 sleeves; Shetland wool, flax inlay

One of her greatest innovations has been the development of a line of seamless garments made entirely of felt—coats, jackets and waistcoats reminiscent of Scandinavian folk arts, yet modern and stylish in design. These are simple garments that curve and enhance the figure, giving a sculptural compliment to linen, silk or cotton worn underneath. “I create sleeves, curves, flares, even bust lines, without the aid of needle and thread,” says Yuli. “Each item of clothing is created from a single piece of felt. The shaping of the garment is done right at the beginning of the felting process, then it's taken further at the end by stretching and pushing the felt where I want it shaped. The shape is stiffened and held in place by my finishing techniques.” Yuli uses the same technique to make bags and hats, scarves, and other items of “wearable art.”

Dartmoor hat; Shetland wool with yarn inlay

Her hats, like her clothes, are magical and unusual, but practical to wear. “Here on the moors it gets cold, wet, and very windy in winter,” she says. “I wanted to make a hat that felt so snug you wouldn't want to take it off, and that also reflects the rich colors and textures to be found on Dartmoor.” The most whimsical of her hats bring to mind the old stories of the countryside: the pixie tales of Dartmoor and the troll stories of Norway. Local animals and birds (sheep, foxes, cockerels, bulls, etc.) are featured in Yuli's wall-hangings, which are fabricated with the use of dyed fiber, yarn, textile fragments, and pre-felted wool. Her wall-hangings—ranging from 1 x 2 meters in size to miniature works—allow Yuli to showcase the rich diversity of her fiber arts techniques.

The most unusual aspect of Yuli's work is the creation of beautiful burial shrouds, which are made entirely of felt and rest on hand-crafted wooden biers. Shrouds had once been a tradition in England (thereby boosting the demand for wool), and today provide an alternative to coffins for those interested in burying and honoring the dead using organic, sustainable materials. One of Yuli's beautiful shrouds was put on exhibition in Salisbury Cathedral, where it was reviewed by Jacquie Sarsby in Crafts magazine: “The shroud and bier were on show last summer among the tombs in Salisbury Cathedral, where they stood, intentionally simple-looking and less durable, but not outclassed by the stony solidity of their surroundings.”

“Steinbug,” detail from wallhanging

In collaboration with felt-maker Anne Belgrave, Yuli is currently developing means of producing burial shrouds in a cost-effective manner—which includes crossing the craft boundary to work with felt-making mills in the north of England. In aid of this work, Yuli has recently been honored with her second Craft Award.

As the pictures on this page demonstrate, in all of the aspects of her felt-making, Yuli has taken hold of a venerable art and shaped it into something new—blending something of the folk art spirit of her two countries, Norway and England, in the process. She is creating magic in her Devon workshop—and doing it with the simplest of tools: wool, water, the strength of her hands, and the power of her imagination.

detail of wallhanging

*       *       *

Seamless jacket with 3/4 sleeves Shetland wool, flax inlay