Photocred: Martin Lima de Faria
Half woman, half warrior. Delicate and strong.
R.H. Sin
Some stories refuse to let go.
For more than twenty-five years I have carried one particular story with me.
It is not a historical fact, but an interpretation that has profoundly influenced my artistic practice.
SKOGSRÅ draws its inspiration from the Nordic myth of the forest spirit of the same name, irresistibly beautiful from the front, yet hollow or marked on her back. Feared. Misunderstood.
In her book Svensk Kvinna (1941), Swedish author Alice Lyttkens presents a compelling interpretation. She describes how women accused of adultery in medieval Sweden were publicly punished: their garments torn open in the back before they were expelled from their communities — marked, rejected and forced to disappear. Lyttkens asks a haunting question:
What if these women became the origin of the myth of Skogsrå?
The forest, long associated with mystery, fear, and independence, may once have sheltered women. Women who had been punished simply for existing outside control. Myths are often born from fear. And myths about women frequently emerge from fear of women’s freedom.
This story stayed with me for decades before it finally found its form in SKOGSRÅ. A series of coats that carry secrets in their backs - openings, zippers, and hidden details - referencing both historical punishment and mythical power. Now, each garment offers choice, agency, and transformation.
Whether the story is history, mythology or both is ultimately not what interests me most. What interests me is how women’s stories continue to echo through time, and how art can offer them another ending.
Some stories ask to be remembered.
Others ask to be transformed.
SKOGSRÅ became my way of doing both.
