— — a hall the chronicles remember and the field forgot.
“Gamla Uppsala. A low rise above a flat Swedish plain, three royal burial mounds in a row, and the site where a wooden pagan temple once stood. Adam of Bremen described it in the 1070s, gold-gabled, three idols inside. Nothing of the hall survives above ground. The mounds do. Wind comes off the field the way it always has. — from the studio
Each tile is finished by hand in our Knoxville studio. Artwork is slowly infused into the ceramic surface under high heat and pressure, and rests beneath a thin glossy finish. The colour lives in the surface, not on top of it.
Pick any four 4-inch tiles — National Parks you've been to, a Smokies set, the four seasons of one place. $ for a set of , cork-backed, ready to live on the table.
Gamla Uppsala sits about five kilometres north of the modern city of Uppsala, on a low rise of glacial till above the Fyris valley in Uppsala County, Sweden. Three large burial mounds, the kungshögarna, anchor the site and are traditionally tied to the semi-legendary Yngling kings. Adam of Bremen, writing around 1070, placed a wooden pagan temple here and described three figures inside. The temple itself has never been securely identified by excavation. A medieval stone church now stands on the rise.
The single near-contemporary account is Adam of Bremen's Gesta Hammaburgensis ecclesiae pontificum, written around 1070, which records a nine-yearly sacrifice and three idols named Thor, Odin and Freyr. The temple is thought to have ceased function in the late eleventh century as Christianity spread under King Inge the Elder. Excavations in the twentieth century by Sune Lindqvist found post-holes beneath the church but no conclusive temple plan. The Gamla Uppsala Museum on site interprets the finds.
What a visitor meets today is mostly grass, sky, and the three mounds. The eastern mound is the largest, roughly fifty-five metres across. The site is open, free, and easily reached by city bus from central Uppsala in under twenty minutes. Stockholm lies about seventy kilometres south. Weather decides the mood more than anything human; in late autumn the field can hold mist past noon, and the silence under the church bell is the loudest thing on the rise.