Ida Højgaard Thjømøe and Marianne Zamecznik
In this eighth issue of The Vessel, we turn our attention to how craft enters public spaces and becomes a form of expression that is both personal and political. At a time when freedom of expression is more contested than ever, craft in public spaces emerges as a subtle yet powerful act of communication, often challenging norms and offering spaces for dialogue and contemplation.
As editors of this issue of The Vessel, we come together with a shared commitment to exploring how craft manifests in public spaces. Both of us have deep-rooted connections to this field, which inform the perspectives and questions we bring to this edition. We have both worked as curators and art consultants on public art projects, engaging with the complexities of art in the public realm. Our work consistently involves questioning and expanding what public art and craft can be, pushing boundaries, and advocating for projects that bring dialogue and reflect the pressing issues of our time. This background allows us to approach the theme of this issue with a critical and informed perspective, rooted in real-world practice.
The first step in working with public art projects often involves introducing everyone in the project group, or art committee, to current notions of what public art can be. As curators and art consultants, we have often experienced situations where we need to explain what art in public space is and what it can do, whether it is in a secondary school, an old people's home, or the new doors to Nidaros Cathedral.1 Oftentimes, professionals from other fields, such as teachers or priests, will initially envision a sculpture on a plinth or a painting when imagining what art in their public space might look like.
So, how do we bring everyone on board? Both of us have used KORO Public Art Norway as a source of knowledge and precedence in such instances. KORO, the state’s national body responsible for administrating, commissioning, and producing art in public space, is a backbone in the Norwegian field of public art. It is a national centre for research and knowledge development within this field. Having focused management makes all the difference for curators and art consultants such as ourselves, providing us with the knowledge and tools needed to maintain the highest possible standard for projects in our public spaces. KORO's position in this field, as a source of knowledge production, is essential as an agent that both challenges existing notions and pushes boundaries while offering support for municipalities, counties, curators, and artists across the country.
The naming game
Art in public space has undergone several shifts over the last decade, reflected in the evolving terminology used to describe it. We have titled this issue of The Vessel Craft in Public Space to mirror the more prevalent term "Art in Public Space". Since the magazine is published by Norwegian Crafts, it was natural for us to examine the dynamic field of public art through the lens of craft. However, naming is a significant act; by using "Craft in Public Space", we aim to highlight that public art plays an equally important role in the field of craft as it does in the fine art sector, both historically and today.
Craft in public space is not simply about decoration. However, in 1977, when the Norwegian Parliament (Stortinget) passed legislation establishing what is now known as KORO, the original name was Utsmykkingsfondet, literally "the Decorations Fund".2 To our knowledge, KORO has never made a distinction between fine art and craft in public space. It was established in response to historical trends that shaped official cultural policy in Norway. In his text, Christer Dynna takes us through the first decades of this history, viewing it through the lens of The Norwegian Association for Arts and Crafts (Norske Kunsthåndverkere, NK), the artist organisation that supports and promotes Norwegian contemporary craft nationally. The article highlights challenges faced by the field of crafts in public spaces, such as the power dynamics between architects and artists — issues that were discussed in Kunsthåndverk, a magazine published by NK.
The initial term used for this kind of public art was utsmykning, meaning "embellishment". It has since been replaced by "art in public space" or, in our case, "craft in public space". This shift signifies that public art is no longer solely about decoration or embellishment. Instead, art in public space is now regarded as a platform for critical engagement and social commentary. This evolution demonstrates that the field is dynamic and ever-changing, moving away from the notion of static monuments to also include socially conscious, relational practices that address pivotal issues of sustainability and diversity.
Crafts, community, and care
Today’s notion of art in public space increasingly aims to offer a platform to express care, activism, and community, woven through materiality. This can be seen in monumental installations like Outi Pieski’s AAhkA, which brings Sámi craft traditions into the heart of Oslo’s new government quarter, as discussed in Elin Haugdal's article. Alternatively, it is reflected in smaller, more intimate projects, such as the uniforms for employees at the Dental University Clinic in Bergen, designed by Ida Falck Øien in 2012, presented in our visual essay titled ‘Crafting Public Spaces in Norway — A short review’. Here, Øien found inspiration in her own childhood memories of visiting the dentist. The interview by Yaniya Mikhalina with Hilde Skancke Pedersen highlights the intersection of her practice with Indigenous perspectives, public art, and healing. Projects like Soil Lab in Chicago and Losæter by Future Farmers in Oslo, explored by Andrea Fjordside Pontoppidan in this issue, exemplify how the intersection of craft and public space allows collectivism and the negotiation of history and place. These relational works remind us that craft is deeply tied to the body, to materials, and to traditions that echo far beyond the surface, tapping into collective consciousness and resilience.
Craftivism
Craftivism, a hybrid between craft and activism, is perhaps most commonly associated with yarn-bombing. It is commonly known as a form of activism, often incorporating elements of anti-capitalism, environmentalism, solidarity, or third-wave feminism. We asked Helene Duckert to write about this fuzzy term and the range of activities it encompasses. Her response is itself a form of activism, shedding light on both the problematic sides of craftivism and its potential amid the ongoing genocide in Palestine — conflicts that loom over our daily lives, transmitted through the news stream and social media.
Lack of overview
Working on this issue has reinforced our belief that craft holds a significant yet often overlooked place in the organisation of public art in Norway. While public art is deeply embedded in Norway’s cultural policy, with a long tradition of integrating visual and material works into public spaces, it remains our impression that the role of craft is somewhat unclear in this broader narrative.
Norwegian cultural policy, particularly through initiatives like the 1%-rule for public art in new buildings,3 has ensured that art — including craft — becomes an integral part of the public realm. Most schools, health facilities, public workplaces, airports, town halls, and community halls include public art, as do squares, parks, and other outdoor gathering places. KORO manages the commissioning and implementation of state-funded public art projects across Norway. Counties and municipalities oversee art in public spaces within their respective domains. Additionally, numerous private buildings and development projects throughout the country manage their own art initiatives in semi-public spaces. Each of these four administrative bodies — state, county, municipality, and private — has its own way of documenting, storing, and making accessible its projects. Often, there are gaps in documentation or inconsistencies in how these records are made available for research purposes. Furthermore, across these sectors, there is no systematic registration of public art projects specifically identified as “kunsthåndverk” (craft), nor any formal strategies ensuring a dedicated focus on craft projects within the field of public art.
This emphasis on craft does, of course, occur in individual projects where curators or art consultants choose to highlight material-based practices. For example, in 2011 Christel Sverre, leader of Public Art Hedmark (formerly RSU) at Kunstbanken Hedmark Art Centre, together with art historian and curator Jorunn Veiteberg commissioned projects by crafts artists Hanne Heuch, Marit Tingleff, Tone Vigeland, Jens Erland, May Bente Aronsen, Sigurd Bronger, and Edith Lundebrekke for The Government's Representation Facility in Oslo. Because the Prime Minister's residence and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs' facilities for foreign visits to the government are important showcases for Norwegian art and culture, the two consultants chose to emphasise projects where craft is at the core, that embrace the hands-on, material-based processes that characterise contemporary crafts.
Similarly, in 2019, senior curator at KORO, Trude Schjelderup Iversen, commissioned six art projects centred on the material turn in contemporary art for the Stortinget, the Norwegian Parliament, which was seen as quite radical at the time. The six artists were Ida Ekblad, Ann Cathrin November Høibo, Ane Graff, Goshka Macuga, Aurora Passero, and Outi Pieski. This project and trend emerged after a long period dominated by conceptual art, signalling a significant shift in KORO's direction. However, the question remains of how directly these projects relate to contemporary craft practices.
What we have realised through our research for this issue is that the unclear definition or lack of emphasis on craft makes it difficult to track its impact and prevalence in public spaces.
Why is this important? Craft in public art is not just a cultural contribution — it represents a significant economic investment in the field, providing income for crafts artists through public commissions. With such limited data or overview available on craft in public spaces, many valuable craft projects risk being underfunded or overlooked altogether, limiting the opportunities for craft to thrive in public contexts.
This lack of visibility for craft in public art intersects with a broader issue facing the field: the gradual structural changes happening to the public art field. This is already happening in Norway’s neighbouring countries. For instance, this September (2024), the Danish Ministry of Defence abruptly was exempted from the one-percent rule for art when investments are to be made in new buildings and conversions of existing buildings until 2033.4 In Norway, an assessment of KORO Public Art Norway, mandated by the Ministry of Culture, is happening as we speak, considering the future development of KORO Public Art Norway, which may involve a merger with Kulturdirektoratet (Arts and Culture Norway). These structural changes raise concerns about the continuity and prioritisation of art in public spaces, including craft. These transformations threaten to reduce the institutional support and funding mechanisms that historically have played a crucial role in ensuring diverse and meaningful contributions of art in our public spaces. Ensuring the inclusion of craft within public art initiatives is crucial for maintaining diversity in artistic expression and supporting the livelihood of craft practitioners across Norway.
The academic landscape reflects the field's needs. The Art in Public Space programme at the Oslo National Academy of the Arts is situated within the Department of Art and Craft, emphasising the integral relationship between these disciplines. Meanwhile, in Stockholm, the Art in Public Space programme, is established at the Royal Institute of Art. This suggests that the contributions to the field of public art come from a dynamic interplay between both the craft and fine art sectors.
Despite these integrations, it remains difficult to gain a comprehensive overview of the specific role that craft plays in public art projects across Norway. Although key works like Outi Pieski’s monumental AAhkA in the new Government Quarter — blending Sámi craft traditions with large-scale public art — serve as vital examples, craft as a field in public space has yet to be systematically studied. The absence of robust documentation and research leaves gaps in understanding how craft operates in public settings, both historically and today.
Moving forward
As we explored the theme of craft in public spaces for this edition, we also recognised the need for more in-depth research. We hope this issue not only showcases significant projects but also encourages further studies, including PhD research and institutional investigations, that could map the field more thoroughly. Understanding the contributions of craft to public art, and its impact on social and material culture, remains a critical area for exploration.
Public spaces are battlegrounds of expression, where art is lived, experienced, and seen by all. In this context, craft is not passive — it engages with everyday life in ways that more conventional gallery spaces cannot. As Drew Snyder’s article, titled ‘Vessels in the Halls of Power, Textiles in an Embassy, and Aage Gaup at the Airport’ explores, the presence of craft in public space links the material world with the social one, intertwining the practices of architecture, design, and art into something both tangible and transformative. Craft in public art offers a way to challenge dominant narratives while grounding us in the material realities of everyday life.
Conclusion
We, the editors, hope this issue serves as a catalyst for deeper conversations about the role of craft in public spaces. We would like to take this opportunity to thank all the writers for their hard work and contributions, as well as The Vessel for inviting us and allowing us to delve into this theme, which has left us both amazed and inspired by craft’s ability to shape the public realm through its material presence, its connection to tradition, and its capacity for social commentary. In the end, we invite you to explore the articles and the projects they highlight, and hope they spark reflection on the power of craft in public spaces. Ultimately, what these different perspectives show is that we must continue to invest in craft, ensuring it thrives and asserts its relevance in the public sphere, as it is an important expression and voice in our society.
In today’s era of high-intensity focus on economic growth, where both body and mind often struggle to keep up, it is perhaps more important than ever to invest in practices that are deep, slow, and thorough.