Injecting artistic energy into Fengersfors factory, Dalsland

Fengersfors, near Åmål, has fewer than 400 residents, a newly built skateboard ramp, and a reputation for being a great place for water-skiing, nearby on lake Knarrbysjön. But it was Fengersfors factory that put the village on the map in 1790.
 
"Like so many other ironworks in Sweden, competition from England meant a transition to paper production in the 1870s," explains Sara Vogel-Rödin, textile artist and operational leader at Not Quite.
 
Its period of greatness was in the 1950s, when Fengersfors was considered one of the most modern paper mills in the world. Its asphalt coated Ocean-Paper was the bestseller – then plastic took over as packing material, and in 1978 the factory closed down.
 
Instead, the premises were filled with various small businesses, as well as a college for future fish and crayfish farmers. However, a group of former design and crafts students from Stenebyskolan school decided to turn Fengersfors into a art venue.

Not Quite opened to the public in 2003, and with its workshops, art hall, gallery and coffee shop, the business has grown year-by-year. New this season is a bistro and bakery with a wood-fired oven. In 2010, Not Quite attracted 15,000 visitors and was given the Dalsland Medallion for recognition of its creation of an economic organisation which has developed the local area and showcased Dalsland to the outside world.
 
Sara Vogel-Rödin, says: "The name 'Not Quite' comes from the fact that the discussions about what we wanted to achieve were held in English. During these discussions, 'not quite' was a common expression. We were thinking so much outside the box that we were unable to find any given framework or model to use."
 
"The Not Quite offering is still varied, as its members work with everything from furniture-making, forging and ceramics, to photography, painting and textile art. This gives freedom, but members must be university trained."

Sara is the operational leader for Not Quite on a part-time basis. On the side of her own artistic operation, she also holds courses on how to run a business in the cultural sector, employed by Nätverkstan to share her experiences with others across the region.
 
"It's great fun, as I have worked on these topics for many years. I explain how to make a living from your art, to learn how to develop your ideas and to identify structures, physical goals and set prices."
 
In Sara's view, artists and culture workers have always been business operators. The problem is that they have never been regarded in that way - not even by themselves.
 
"The difference to other types of small-scale businesses is that the basis for the operation is the knowledge and talent you have. Profitability is important, but it's not everything. An artist doesn't necessarily have to close down after three years of no profit. Apart from that, the conditions and ways of thinking are basically the same."
 
"We're simply a group of members and networkers who want to help a sparsely-populated area to survive. So far, it has gone extremely well, and everyone is welcome. But there are limits. We have no ambitions of turning Not Quite into a theme park or a new Liseberg theme park!"
 
This article comes from the publication West Side Stories