The mouse doesn’t bite off a thread

Artists and works

• Anja Brogan
  

  TLM, Johannes Plattner

  Whom can we trust now?, 2023

  Green Bay, Wisconsin, USA 1980, lives and works in Berlin

  In her works, the German-American artist Anja Brogan (*1980) repeatedly explores social expectations of the subject and their social function. With her fluffy television armchair, the artist greets exhibition visitors with the dystopian question "Whom can we trust now?" (2023). Today's media perception is translated into an unstable experience that resists a fixed form of cognition. The combed letters now appear as ghostly, uncanny revenants. All areas of society are dominated by mass communication, designed according to principles of demand management, seduction and advertising, and in these very areas it is permitted to deceive, distort, destabilise and distort. The consequences are increasing feelings of deprivation, epidemic insecurity and a growing unease about status. The media become a sewage treatment plant for affects, transforming bleak insecurity into simple explanatory models and producing hysteria and questions as an echo chamber. This self-poisoning of large sections of society goes hand in hand with the defamation of truth from the outset. The high point of this existential distress is often the television armchair. Brogan presents us with a fluffy piece of upholstered furniture, the everyday object as a mini-paradise, and thus alludes to the tyranny of a life subjugated to household, sport, infotainment and the logic of exploitation, etc. What remains after the victory of capitalism? Nothing. The emptiness. Brogan poeticises this emptiness in the form of a black flokati seat. The artist thus thinks the industrial revolution towards a leisure society through to its end.

• Birgit Jürgenssen

  Untitled (Zipfel), 1967

  Vienna 1949 - 2003 Vienna

  A pile of sausage-shaped shapes lies under a high glass bonnet on a wooden base. They consist of different coloured silk stockings filled with artificial fertiliser granules and sewn shut. The flexible filling allows the "tails" to nestle closely together. Birgit Jürgenssen created this sculpture in 1967, the same year in which she finished secondary school at the age of 18 and was unexpectedly accepted into the master class for graphic art at the University of Applied Arts in Vienna, although she had not completed her undergraduate studies. She had already started drawing as a child and received her first camera at the age of 14.1 Often slightly ironic and influenced by surrealism, she approached socially critical themes in her works and became one of the pioneers of feminist art. The question of the role of women, the constraints imposed on them by society, their struggle for recognition and equal rights, runs through large parts of her work.2 In 1971, in her final thesis at the University of Applied Arts, she dealt with the "Zipfel" as a subject, which she portrayed in 42 drawings under the title "zipfeln" in its most diverse varieties, sometimes integrating it in places where it does not naturally belong.3 She subtly utilises the ambiguity of the word, showing sausage and apron tails, but also subtly refers to the sexual connotation of the "Zipfels" in Bavarian-Austrian usage, without ever becoming overtly suggestive.4 In her sculpture from 1967, she had already placed the Zipfel on a plinth and under a glass lintel, elevating it to a kind of humorous monument, as the fragile, ephemeral material stands in clear contrast to the implied symbolism of fertility and male superiority. Perhaps the very feminine connotation of the silk stocking as a carrier material was also intended as a reference to the dependence of men on the performance of women. This work was not the only object for which Birgit Jürgenssen used tubular or zip-shaped textiles filled with granulate. She also produced another version of the Zipfel under a glass bonnet in 1967, but here she made the bags from fabric and leather.5 In the same year, she produced a colour photograph showing a pile of colourful silk stocking sausages on the artist's feet.6 The long Zipfel cover her feet like leeches. She also used long textile snakes in another sculpture: The sculpture "Untitled (Dog)" from 1972 consists of a ceramic dog with long gauze sacks filled with stones or granules protruding from its chest and rear end, which, unsurprisingly, are reminiscent of intestines.7 The play with the various associations that sausage-like structures evoke thus runs through the artist's early creative years.

• Edda Reinl

  Hansel and Gretel, 1976

  Salzburg 1941, lives in Rum

  The batik technique is a very elaborate design method which, like watercolour painting, does not allow for mistakes. In numerous dyeing processes, a part of the fabric is covered with wax, dyed with a colour and the wax is washed out again after the colour has dried. Dyeing is done from light to dark. In many cases, colours can also be overlaid to achieve a new shade of colour. Even if the result achieved, as in the case of Edda Reinl's depiction of the witch in her witch's house, develops a very spontaneous painterly effect, it is a product of very precise planning and elaborate execution. It depicts a brightly lit house in shades of yellow, red and orange with a small gabled roof above the open entrance. Inside, a bent woman can be seen leaning on a stick. A cat stands on her back. The dimensions of the house cannot really be made out. Although a gable line is roughly recognisable, the tile-like design of the wall and roof surfaces deliberately eludes perspective and creates a two-dimensionality that is typical of Edda Reinl's depictions. The emphasis is on a highly decorative design. Between the ornamental objects and figures, in the execution of which the artist dispenses with the third dimension, a narrative story is always recognisable, although this is sometimes only revealed at second glance. Edda Reinl studied graphic art at the Academy of Applied Arts in Vienna. Her diploma thesis in 1968 consisted of illustrations for a fairy tale entitled "Die Fremde Feder", which she published two years later as a children's book with Neugebauer Press, a publisher of artistic children's books. She was honoured by the Federal Ministry for Education and the Arts with an appreciation award for her diploma thesis. In the following decades, Reinl published further illustrated fairy tales and stories with the same publishing house, some of which were published internationally. Some of the books received awards both at home and abroad. Most recently, she published the children's book "Adam Wunderbar" in 2014. At first glance, "Hansel and Gretel" appears to be a one-off object. However, in the 1970s, Edda Reinl designed a series of pictures with fairy tales by Hans Christian Andersen for the kindergarten in Birkengasse in Rum. These are designed very similarly to the present work using the batik technique and apparently also with the same type of picture support. They are displayed in backlit boxes in the kindergarten, which makes their brilliant colours stand out even more. The purpose for which Edda Reinl executed the work "Hansel and Gretel" is no longer clear today. The Grimm fairy tale does not fit into the series of Andersen stories and there is also no publication by Reinl with depictions of Grimm fairy tales. In addition, the five-part series in kindergarten, which the artist also published as a fairy tale book for adults in 1974, is still complete today. In 1976, Reinl also illustrated a selection of fables by Lafontaine. "Hansel and Gretel" appears to have been created in the same context of her preoccupation with old fairy tales.

• Gunda Maria Wiese

  Coptic Prince, 1920 - 1924

  Weerberg 1900 - 1924 Innsbruck

  This little doll, which found its way into the holdings of the Modern Collection through the estate of the artist Wilfried Kirschl, is already 100 years old. Everything about it seems fragile, not only because of its age, but also because of the almost immaterial design of the figure, which consists mainly of wires, (presumably) parts of a fabric-covered power cable and a translucent woven fabric draped over it. The head is made of dark-coloured wax, the facial features are suggested like a mask. Despite her uniform incorporeality, she radiates a strong dynamic; the s-shaped curved body, the mask-like face and the shapeless floor-length garment are reminiscent of photographic images of expressive dancers from the early 20th century. Every movement causes the delicate construction to wobble. The fact that the doll has survived for so long is almost a miracle and speaks of the great esteem in which it and the artist who created it were held. Gunda Maria Wiese (real name Maria Schumlitz) had been the partner of painter Artur Nikodem, 30 years her senior, since 1921, whom she had met at an exhibition opening in 1920.1 In her very short life of just 24 years, a third of which she spent suffering from tuberculosis, she had no opportunity to make a public appearance as an artist. It was not until the year after her death that the Kunstsalon Unterberger in Innsbruck exhibited works from her artistic estate, presumably at the instigation of Artur Nikodem.2 Nevertheless, she was apparently so well connected in the local art world that an emotional obituary was printed in the theatre/music/art section of the "Innsbrucker Nachrichten" newspaper a few days after her death, paying tribute to her and her artworks.3 One aspect that is repeatedly emphasised in the few written sources on Gunda Maria Wiese is the supposed closeness between her artworks and her personality, such as in a text by Hans Tabarelli: "In the past, when she was still healthy, she used her fine, white fingers to form all kinds of wax dolls, dancers, little goddesses or Madonnas. She was a patient and docile model that her grey-haired friend [Arthur Nikodem] drew and painted hundreds of times, while she recreated herself in miniature." 4 The artist is consistently described as a quiet, calm person, artistically talented, but very limited by her chronic lung disease. In the same text, Hans Tabarelli has the artist Artur Nikodem repeat that Gunda Maria Wiese repeatedly immortalised herself in her works. A very masculine view of female artistic creation, which assumes that in the oh-so-fragile bodies of women, especially in Gunda Maria's, marked by illness, there can be no capacity for the "heroic struggle with a better, more masculine matter", as it is formulated in the obituary.5 The elevation of a female artist to an ethereal being far removed from the world, in which eternity is recognisable, can also be found in male descriptions of other female artists at the same time. In 1918, for example, an author named Fritzchen compared the dancer Grethe Wiesenthal to a "little dust from one of the thousand suns that chase through space in a radiant glow."6 There is no doubt that Gunda Maria Wiese chose fragile, delicate materials to create her small-format artworks, and the comparison between her own fragility and the dolls suggests itself to the viewer. But was the choice of material really a choice of necessity? Holding a paintbrush would certainly not have cost her any more energy than bending wire and moulding wax. Obviously, however, she was better able to express what she wanted to depict with her handicraft work.

• Hansi (Johanna) Sikora

  Snowfall, 1971

  Mühlau 1906 - 2002 Innsbruck

  When Hansi Sikora died in 2002, she had enjoyed a career as a textile artist that spanned more than 80 years. She taught herself to embroider at the age of around 12 and soon became so skilled that she was able to exhibit her textile works for the first time at the Unterberger Gallery in Innsbruck in 1921 at the age of 15.1 However, this early triumph was not followed by lasting commercial success, although the artist channelled all her energy into her work. In the 1940s, she was able to exhibit in many places and also sell works, but the source of income dried up with the end of the war, as art seemed dispensable for the starving population. Instead of being able to devote all her time to textile art, Hansi Sikora had to earn her living by writing, and she could only embroider in the evenings. She only retired at the age of 70, whereupon she devoted the following decades exclusively to her embroidery work and planning exhibitions. At the age of 93, she was still preparing her last exhibition in 2000.2 Her entire life was characterised by the struggle to have her artwork recognised as art and not as a craft. Although she was a member of the Tiroler Künstlerschaft from the very beginning, she turned away from the organisation in the 1970s, frustrated that she had never been given the opportunity to show her work. At a Christmas exhibition of various artists, her submitted works were even sent back to her as they were not considered worthy of being exhibited.3 The success of her late creative years is based on the diligent way in which the artist continuously planned and realised exhibitions on her own initiative and with the support of a few trusted friends, alongside her embroidery work. No agent was found for her figurative, subtle textile art. However, reservations about textile works being regarded as works of art were very widespread in the second half of the 20th century. As late as 1991, Gertrud Bauer wrote that no organiser had held a textile exhibition in Austria since the late 1970s.4 Hansi Sikora's artworks are landscape depictions embroidered with silk threads (sometimes also with wool) on silk fabric, usually showing trees or water in various moods of the year and time of day. The landscapes are not real-life scenes, but originate from images that the artist composed in her head and transferred to the silk. She drew her inspiration from nature and music. Using embroidered lines, cross and stem stitches, she brought a painterly quality to her works of art. By aligning the stitches, she was able to suggest spatial depth and dynamics that are not normally inherent to the medium used. She never filled the entire surface with stitches in the sense of tapestry embroidery, but rather added her embroidery to the often deliberately coloured silk background in a graphic manner, sometimes supplementing the work with appliquéd pieces of fabric. In reviews, her technique is often referred to as needle painting.5 This small-format embroidery shows a view of a dense flurry of snow: against a monochrome grey sky, bare, slender trees stand out in delicate pastel shades, with gentle piles of snow rising from the ground below. White flakes trickle down between the trees, making the view of nature even more opaque. Hansi Sikora achieved the foggy atmosphere by embroidering the trees and the piles of snow on a grey silk fabric and then covering it with a thin white silk gauze fabric. She embroidered the snowflakes directly onto the gauze using grey silk and white wool threads. This created several layers of images.

• Helga Hager Aschenbrenner

  Untitled, 1987

  Reutte 1941 - 2013 Reutte

  From a distance, this work of art looks like an abstract painting: blocks of colour in black, yellow and white and narrow black and white stripes are aligned from above and from the sides towards the centre of the picture, forming a line that is directed towards the centre and continues from there towards the lower edge of the picture. The lines plunging from the upper corners towards the centre combined with the reduced colour palette evoke associations with winter landscape panoramas. The seemingly spontaneously placed blocks of colour are in fact precisely woven strips of fabric that have been sewn onto a white fabric painted with colour, partly glazed and partly drawn, in the manner of a collage. The painted basis not only forms the project sketch, but also reinforces the dynamic and spontaneous character of the artwork. However, the precise and meticulous production process of the woven colour blocks contrasts with the seemingly instantaneous realisation of the artwork. Helga Hager Aschenbrenner studied painting at the Art School of the City of Linz, learnt artistic weaving and became a weaving artist after graduating. Using a high loom, she produced small-format pictures, some of which were over a metre wide. She drew inspiration for her mostly abstract works from nature, landscapes and the play of the tides. For her woven works, she sometimes created colourful painted designs. From the 1980s onwards, she became more experimental and tried her hand at new production methods. She built wooden frames that she wrapped with yarn like netting, created nest-like sculptures from willow and sewed wool onto stretched jute.1 The present collage can be seen as part of this search for new means of expression. Here she attempted to bring together the artistic fields of painting and weaving, which in her opinion formed a symbiosis.2

• Ilse Abka-Prandstetter

  Waiting for the sun, 2021

  Vienna 1939 - lives and works in Aldrans near Innsbruck and Vienna

  Ilse Abka-Prandstetter initially studied painting with R. C. Andersen and Herbert Böckl in Vienna, but interrupted her studies after getting married to move to Tyrol and start a family. It was not until a few years later that she completed her studies under Max Weiler, who had encouraged her to do so, and she has been continuously active as an artist since the late 1960s.1 In addition to paintings, she also produces works made of paper, wire, mosaics and installations and, above all, artworks with or made of textiles. Abka-Prandstetter actually began her artistic career in the 1970s less with painting than with woven tapestries, which - still figurative at the beginning of the 1970s - became increasingly abstract over the following decades. They are characterised by a luminous, iridescent colourfulness and the finest colour gradations, which lend the woven works an almost painterly character. She achieved the wide range of colours by twisting different coloured threads, similar to the way Pointilism was used in painting.2 She created numerous large-format tapestries for public buildings in Tyrol. At the same time, she painted continuously and created three-dimensional objects. Inherent in many of these works is an allusion to textiles. In 2002 and 2003, for example, she produced a series of paintings entitled "Dreamcatchers", in which she covered the front of the canvas tightly with vertically aligned warp threads before painting them. This created a velvety, almost sculptural surface reminiscent of a tapestry. The present work, "Waiting for the Sun", also emphasises the textile medium of the support. Although it is a painted canvas, it is not treated as a mere rigid support for a pictorial motif. Instead, Ilse Abka-Prandstetter emphasises the quality of the canvas as a fabric. The unstretched fabric was crushed when wet, turning it into a sculptural object. It is hung from two points, which also create folds. This gives the artwork the appearance of a wet wall hanging. The bright yellow colour suggests a light-flooded curtain with purple shadow spots that have been placed in the hollows of the folds. The artist also produces similar works from soaked paper, which she repeatedly kneads. With these artworks, the artist wants to speak to the soul of the viewer. She "does not tell stories - they are visual messages that address the psyche non-verbally. "3

• Karl Honeder

  Portrait of Anna Pühringer, around 1941

  Linz 1874 - 1945 Innsbruck

  The painting was painted by Karl Honeder (1874-1945) around 1941. It shows Anna Pühringer at the age of around 20. In the picture, she is depicted in an upright posture in a half-portrait against a neutral background. She is wearing a black dress buttoned up the front with a loose-fitting blouse-like top. The short sleeves reach to the bend of the elbow and are decorated with three horizontal stripes of a colourful floral-patterned fabric. The larger appliqué on the chest of the top is made from the same fabric, breathing colourful life into both sides of the black dress. Anna Pühringer turns her head slightly to the right so that her left temple and ear are visible. She wears her brown hair parted to the side and tied back in a knot that is not directly visible. Anna Pühringer is wearing light make-up, a little blusher on her cheeks and striking red lipstick. The darkly mascaraed eyelashes and narrowly plucked eyebrows frame her blue-grey eyes. Her serious gaze looks into the distance and, lost in thought, she plays with her hands on the long pearl necklace she wears around her neck. Her hands are disproportionately prominent against the black dress. It is noticeable that the fingernail of the index finger on her right hand, which is pointing upwards, is the same shade of red as her lips, while the only other visible nail, on the thumb of her left hand, does not have such a striking colour. On her left hand, at navel level, Anna wears a simple ring, possibly a wedding or engagement ring. This portrait was donated to the Ferdinandeum together with the dress depicted in it by the son of Anna Pühringer. It is said that the strikingly red painted lips and fingernail were painted over in red by American occupying soldiers. At the time, the painting was in the artist's studio in Glasmalereistraße in Innsbruck. It is possible that soldiers were quartered there in the post-war period. Stereomicroscopic examinations1 have shown that the red colour visible today is part of the original painting. Above the layer of red paint is another pink-coloured layer, which has been partially reduced, as evidenced by slight scratch marks on the surface. A finer modelling of the lips, which was probably originally present, has thus been removed, so that the mouth now appears very stencil-like. However, this manipulation was not carried out by a soldier, but by a family member who was trying to correct the supposed earlier remodelling by the occupying forces. The mouth area shows another change that must have been made later. One viewer of the picture seems to have been disturbed by the sad, slightly serious expression on the lady's face. The same person took a biro and drew small upward strokes at the corners of her mouth to give the woman in the portrait a more cheerful expression.2

• Dress, c. 1941

  The dress depicted in the painting has been preserved here in its original form and has the characteristic narrow shape of the 1940s. The angular cut, which was fashionable during the war, is characterised by straight and broad shoulders, puffed sleeves and a narrow waist.1 The narrow skirt ends just below the knee, making it look wider at the bottom and making the waist appear even slimmer. The top is shirt-like and collarless with fabric-covered buttons. Eye-catching breast draping made from a colourful patterned silk makes the bust appear fuller. The fact that the dress has survived suggests that it had a special sentimental value for the wearer. In addition, various modifications to the dress show that it was worn with pleasure and carefully cared for and adapted to the body. Fashion magazines of the time encourage people to reuse old items of clothing and/or skilfully combine them with one another.2 Whether this dress was designed from the outset in this particular version could not ultimately be clarified. There are indications of both on the dress. The fact that all the sewing threads analysed appear to be made of the same material3 suggests that the dress has survived unchanged. In addition, the black fabric from which the dress was made corresponds exactly to the fabric that is inserted in the centre in a wedge shape.4 Nevertheless, there are also indications that the dress we have today was based on a different black dress or a skirt with a blouse. In order to modify it, the colourful silk and the black pleated fabric in the centre front were added at the same time. In addition, the dress was shortened at the waist by re-sewing and the belt was placed over the seam. The use of the same sewing threads and the identical fabric suggest that these alterations were made in the same household in which it was sewn.

• Ledea Muard

  Mrs Flachmann, 2003

  Innsbruck 1959 - lives in Vienna

  With "Frau Flachmann", Ledea Muard designed a rug made of tumbled wool in the shape of a life-size woman standing or lying with her eyes closed and her hands tucked into her pockets or hidden behind her back. The tapered blue bell skirt and the red high-necked blouse with broad shoulders are probably a legacy of 1980s fashion. The smooth hairstyle of the woman with her hair parted very sideways, which diagonally covers her face on the right side, is a motif that the artist uses again and again. It appears repeatedly, for example, in her head-shaped woollen "head-bags".1 "Frau Flachmann" was not a stand-alone work, but had a male figure as a counterpart. The man is depicted in the same pose, but with his legs further apart.2 His eyes are also closed, but his arms are clearly bent and his hands are tucked into his trouser pockets. The figures complement each other in their colours. Both have black hair and shoes; the blue and red in the man's shirt match the colours of the woman's clothes. The shoes of both can be seen from above, as if the person were lying down. If the couple had a more neutral arm position, the figures with their closed eyes could be interpreted as people lying in state, but this way we seem to be looking down on people at rest. However, if the figures are used as a carpet, the comparison with the obligatory animal fur - such as a tiger or polar bear - with a prepared head in front of the fireplace beckons. Could this be a subtle criticism of human self-importance? The fashion designer Ledea Muard enjoyed great success in Vienna and Munich, particularly in the 1980s. She was active in U-fashion circles and still designs unusual items of clothing and accessories today.3 The two carpets from 2003 are unique pieces. In the 2000s, however, the artist designed many more pieces with human heads, which are related to the carpet figures. In addition to the head-shaped bags mentioned above, she also designed entire outfits with faces. In 2010, for example, she presented a costume with a cap on her blog. A white head with red lips and closed eyes was attached to the side of the skirt. The accompanying cap, probably inspired by the caps or bathing caps of the 1920s, pulled low over the face, also showed a white face with a scowl on the side.4 The features, like those of the carpet figures, are each drawn in simplified black lines, the mouth red.

• Maria Walcher

  Transhumance, 2018

  Brixen/Bressanone 1984 - lives and works in Innsbruck

  Maria Walcher deals intensively with socio-political themes in her artworks and art projects. She often incorporates local issues and the public into her interventions in a playful way, pointing to patterns of behaviour in order to question them.1 Textile media are very often part of her works, perhaps because they are so close to people and human customs. For example, she has travelled several times with a sewing machine on a bicycle through various countries, sewing new garments from items of clothing donated to her by the local population, which had a special meaning for the donors and which, in their altered form, could tell a different, global story.2 The work "Transhumance" consists of an embroidered woollen blanket lined with a blue cotton lining. The blue cotton lining is decorated using the blue print technique. This involves using models to print parts of the fabric with a colour-repellent substance such as wax. When the fabric is then placed in a dye bath, it does not colour in the areas sealed with wax. However, instead of the usual scattered flower patterns used in blueprinting, we have applied lines of colour here. These are routes that migrants took to Europe in 2015. Red embroidered lines, partly overlapping the white paths, show a different type of migration: transhumance is a form of livestock farming in which animals are moved from summer pastures to winter pastures, sometimes over several days, following the seasons. These centuries-old grazing customs, which are part of the intangible world cultural heritage, still transcend borders in Europe today. Farmers from South Tyrol, for example, still drive their sheep into Ötztal, which belongs to North Tyrol, in summer. The traditional border crossing, which remains without consequences, is contrasted with the border crossing due to economic or political hardship, where migrants have to fear for their whereabouts. The woollen blanket, a symbol of protection and warmth, stands in contrast to the migrants' need for protection: In both transhumance and human migration, the paths are full of dangers and not all migrants reach their destination safely. The blue side of the blanket, on the other hand, with the white lines of the path, is reminiscent of a map of the sky with constellations. They can symbolise orientation and hope, two aspects that are vital for every departure.3

• Monika Proxauf
  

  © TLM, Johannes Plattner

  Autumn, 1987

  Seefeld in Tyrol 1944 - 1993 Innsbruck

  Monika Proxauf used unusual techniques to weave wool into landscapes and nature motifs. She rarely adhered to the classic rectangular shape of tapestries, but often followed the shape of the objects she depicted. This is also the case with this object: a slender tree rises up on a reddish-brown background, its orange-coloured top bending downwards in three leaf-like main sections, seemingly bent by the storm. The warp threads connecting the tree to the ground, a few of which are woven together like strands of white yarn, flow from top to bottom like pouring rain. The background, which is almost completely devoid of green, is given a certain spatial depth through differently shaded colour fields and different thicknesses of wool. At first glance, Proxauf uses simple forms to convey the image of a stormy autumn day. Yet her working method is anything but simple and her artworks are so carefully crafted that it is almost impossible to distinguish the front from the back. This is often only recognisable by her signature on the front or by the often better preserved colours on the reverse. This care contrasts with many other woven works, where the remains of woollen threads or yarns are usually still visible on the back. Monika Proxauf attended a textile college from 1958. She married at the age of 20 and had three children by 1975. She began her first knotting and weaving work in 1974. In the following years, she attended various courses in dyeing, spinning and weaving. She attended courses in Finland, Bavaria and the south of France, among other places. At the beginning of her career in art weaving, she had her wool spun and dyed by a farmer's wife, but after her further training she produced her own wool yarn dyed with natural materials, as this enabled her to create exactly the colours she needed. From 1980 onwards, she regularly exhibited her artwork in galleries and at major craft fairs. The majority of her works were commissioned pieces, which she created in consultation with private customers, mainly from Germany. She often looked at the places where her tapestries were to hang before deciding on a colour scheme. Monika Proxauf was so successful with her weaving art in the 1980s that she was able to open a textile studio in Igels and live with her family from the income. She understood the zeitgeist for interior design and decoration so well that she also adopted new textile techniques, such as silk painting, in her studio in the 1990s. According to her children, she was a tireless worker. The large amount of her very time-consuming and mostly very unusual weaving work is still documented today in numerous photos collected by the family. She produced most of them in the 1980s and up until her early death in 1993. They confirm the great creative power and creativity of the textile artist.1

• Rose Krenn

  Eight fashion designs, 1911-1919

  St. Marein near Erlachstein [Šmarje pri Jelšah, Slovenia] 1884-1970 Innsbruck

  The versatile craftswoman Rose Krenn was born in 1884 in what is now Slovenia. She trained at art schools in Prague and Vienna, among others. In Vienna, she studied architecture under Josef Hoffmann and ceramics under Michael Powolny at the School of Arts and Crafts. From as early as 1911, she worked as a designer for the Wiener Werkstätte, for which she was to become one of the most important artists.1 She designed ceramics, textiles, caskets, boxes and also a decorative cabinet with a stylised leaf decoration, which is now in the Museum of Applied Arts in Vienna.2 At the beginning of the 20th century, it was rather unusual for women to study architecture and, unlike their male counterparts, female students at the Vienna School of Arts and Crafts only learnt interior design, i.e. mainly the design of small pieces of furniture and the like. The decorative cabinet designed by Rose Krenn is an extremely rare example of a piece of furniture created by a woman at the Wiener Werkstätte. Despite the existing restrictions on training for the steadily increasing number of female students, women were often openly met with disfavour and disparagement of their work by their male colleagues. They saw themselves threatened in their hitherto male-dominated field and often denied that women were suitable as artists.3 However, Rose Krenn's artistic abilities were particularly praised by her instructors very early on. In her graduation certificate, she was certified as having a "distinctly pronounced sense of form for a woman".4 Even this praise reveals the widespread bias against women's artistic aptitude. However, this in no way prevented the artist from pursuing her professional goals. While still a student, she was already working for various arts and crafts production branches in the Viennese workshops. She moved to Tyrol in 1914 when she got married, but continued to work for the Wiener Werkstätten until 1919. From 1919, she became a lecturer in arts and crafts at the new Vereinigte Kunstschule Toni Kirchmayr in Innsbruck. Her colourful dress designs are in many ways a foretaste of the fashion of the 1920s, although the ankle-length skirts are still very much rooted in the 1910s. Some of the large patterns with stylised floral elements are associated with Art Nouveau, while some of the geometric elements are reminiscent of Art Deco. In addition to their function as dress designs, the preparatory drawings may also have been intended in part as designs for the numerous fashion postcards distributed by the Wiener Werkstätte.5 This would be indicated by the artist's signatures at the top of two of the drawings, as well as the fact that Rose Krenn integrated insects into several motifs, with which the women depicted interact. In this way, a pure fashion design became a pictorial motif.