Muhu Embroidery Stole Her Heart
This story, dedicated to a spirited woman for Women’s Day, tells of Sirje Tüür – a native of Tallinn who now runs the Männiku craft studio in the village of Koguva and has become a passionate practitioner and teacher of the vibrant Muhu embroidery tradition, sharing this beautiful art with countless others.
Written by Vilma Rauniste, published in Meie Maa (Estonia)
Having married a man from the village of Koguva, Sirje has long since been embraced by the Muhu community thanks to her dedicated work. No public poll is needed to confirm it — one can simply tell. While helping organize a gathering, Sirje happened to be in Liiva, attending a meeting of the handicraft society Oad ja Eed, where she was formally presented with an honorary certificate and a monetary award for her contribution to the development of handicrafts. A gesture that, in its own way, felt like a Women’s Day gift. Upon hearing the news, her five-year-old granddaughter in Tallinn joyfully exclaimed: “Grandma got a poster!”
“It was such a huge surprise to me, because I’ve always thought that certificates of recognition and appreciation are given for something truly special — a unique act or achievement. But for me, handicraft is just everyday life,” Sirje said, recalling her initial shock. “Then again, maybe they’ve taken notice of some of my new ideas? That leads me to believe the people of Muhu have truly accepted me. And when it comes to learning and teaching, I believe it’s essential to pass on the knowledge and skills of our local folk culture to younger generations, so that this beautiful heritage doesn’t fade away.”
The craftswoman recalled that a few years ago, they had gone on a tour around Saaremaa and, to her surprise, hadn’t seen any embroidered handicrafts in the shops aimed at tourists. “I remember thinking—there’s clearly room to grow. And now I can say that many islanders are eager to learn embroidery. It’s not rocket science. If you’ve got the interest and motivation, it’s absolutely something you can learn. But it takes a tremendous amount of time. You have to practice, practice, and practice some more. In a way, embroidery is like professional sports—if you want to reach the top and stay there, you need to train every single day. Your wrist has to stay warm. I embroider every day. Sometimes I even get comments like, ‘Hey, it’s Sunday today!’ But I just can’t help it—I love it that much.”
Weekends are for new ideasOver time, it has naturally fallen into a rhythm: Sirje takes on commissioned work during the weekdays, but on weekends, she embroiders for herself. And most of the time, she dives into something new and exciting. “I always want to create something fresh, to try and experiment — there's just so much room to grow. Sometimes I worry that one lifetime won’t be enough. There are so many flowers all around me, and I feel the urge to capture them all in embroidery.”
Sirje came across an intriguing embroidery book, from which she continues to learn new techniques. She’s now experimenting with how to achieve the same striking three-dimensional effect, created using fine thread, or mouliné, by working with smooth stitches and rustic wool yarn instead. At this point, the embroidery expert showed what she called a “sample cloth” — in reality, a large blanket embroidered with a wide range of flowers, both wild and cultivated. It resembles a beautifully designed floral primer, perfect for teaching children to recognize different kinds of blossoms.
Making a flower look recognizable in embroidery is no easy feat. Here’s a small example of what Sirje did to successfully capture the globeflowers in her stitching. Together with her husband Tõnis, she went into the forest, picked a bouquet, took a photo, then painted the flowers on paper — and only after that did she begin transferring them onto fabric with needle and thread. “It was all about capturing the right feeling. Embroidering marigolds was also quite a challenge, to make the flower instantly recognizable. In fact, I began this blanket with a pansy in mind, to see how it could be rendered in wool. With thicker yarn, it’s much harder to layer the stitches and create smooth transitions between shades.”
The large, flower-filled blanket is Sirje’s third. She jokingly calls these quilts her “fourth pillar of retirement,” because they take so much time and effort that she can’t bring herself to sell them. “When I’m old and frail, and maybe no longer remember just how much time and how many pricked fingers they cost me, then maybe I’ll be able to let them go.”
Sirje has documented many of her embroidered creations — sofa cushions, table linens, and more — through professional photography and had them digitally printed onto fabric at a factory in Tallinn. This approach makes it possible to offer beautifully embroidered designs at a much more affordable price. For the photography, she collaborates with Karli Foto and Andi Roosta, while for specific craft-related tasks, she works together with other artisans from Muhu. Triinu Traumann from Net Tikand assists with the sewing, and Piret Lember, whom Sirje says is even better than her when it comes to soles, helps with the footwear finishing.
A Glimpse into Her YouthSirje was a 17-year-old city girl when she and two friends decided to apply to the Tartu Art School. As part of the application, they had to submit a sample piece. One of the girls’ mothers suggested they go to Muhu — a beautiful island known for its beaches, stone fences, and windmills. “We packed our painting supplies and headed to the island. We set up our tent on the beach in Koguva, but word got around quickly that three girls had arrived. That’s where I met a young man from the village, who drove his tractor down to the beach just before Midsummer and invited one of us to help gather firewood for the holiday bonfire. I said yes,” Sirje recalled — a happy coincidence that would go on to shape her life.
As it happened, the young woman completed two entrance exams in Tartu, but ultimately chose to start a family instead. She lived in Koguva for a while, where her first child, a daughter named Kristi, was born. Sirje was 18 at the time. A little later, Kristi was joined by a baby brother, Mihkel. “I started embroidering out of necessity — there simply weren’t any jobs. When I was 18 and lived in Muhu for nine months, I began stitching Muhu pätid for Uku. But that time also left me with emotional scars. When we moved back to Tallinn, I didn’t touch a needle for quite a while. With a small child, I had to meet production targets at the cost of sleep. And when I returned to Muhu years later — at 26 — I first took up weaving rugs, not embroidery. But then people started asking, ‘Why don’t you embroider?’ And that’s how it began again. Now I’m starting to think that embroidery has become a kind of addiction for me.”
It has now been eleven years since Sirje left behind life in Tallinn. The children were raised and educated in the city, but every year the family spent their holidays at her husband’s parents’ farm in Koguva, where the to-do list was longer than the number of people to tackle it. When she moved back to the island, Sirje was certain of one thing: she would never take on a regular salaried job, even though she still had no idea what she was going to do. Before that, she had gone from course to course in Tallinn, picking up all sorts of skills — from loom weaving and silk painting to ceramics.
In Muhu, she began with rug weaving, and soon after, silk painting followed — though by now, both have started to fade into the background. “Silk painting has been replaced by a different kind of painting — on doors, window frames, bits of wood. Luckily, Tõnis lets me paint all over everything,” said the creatively inclined craftswoman. Her husband chimed in to say that Sirje also decorates tables and other pieces of furniture — built by him and his work partner — with floral and ornamental designs, tailored to each customer’s wishes.
Sirje speaks with great admiration about the man who built their home, handles all kinds of tasks with ease, and lets her embroider to her heart’s content — so it’s not uncommon for him to cook dinner himself and invite her to the table. “I’ve truly been lucky with my husband. He can manage anything. We’re both masters of our own time — we do what we want, when we want.” Tõnis, in turn, praises his exceptionally hardworking wife, thanks to whom he’s been spared the kind of nagging that occasionally happens even in the most refined households. Every day life in the Tüür household feels like one long Women’s Day celebration — full of flowers and joy.
And finally, the heroine’s thoughts on handicrafts and Muhu. “It was really here in Muhu where I first connected with handicrafts. It’s a wonderful place for creative work — a peaceful environment where you can think and create. I feel that here, something hidden inside a person starts to come out — things you never even knew were there. It’s just so inspiring!”