Back in 1991 I didn’t know I’d need it so much. After all, I’d been away from Sweden at Christmas, and Lucia, for years. And my nearest Swedish church was a seamen’s church, and what do those burly sailors know about beautiful singing in long white gowns? Well, we went anyway, and as the singing carried up the stairs in the church in Liverpool, it made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. It was so beautiful. And they weren’t sailors at all, of course. They were the children of Swedes in exile plus some students.
It was the same feeling I got yesterday as we sat around enjoying our morning coffee at CultureWitch Towers. Singing, coming from outside, possibly up the stairs. I don’t know. I’ve not been to the church in London. In a year when so much has had to be given up, here we were, with a real Lucia, filmed in an empty church, with all the necessary physical distancing in place. It was beautiful.
Lucia and her ten attendants sang most of the most beautiful, traditional songs, with only one unknown medley. For Oh, Holy Night they were joined by the church’s youth leader, who has a very good voice on him. There was a short greeting from the Ambassador and a blessing from the minister. And that was it. Short and sweet.
On a personal note, I was relieved to see that even this Lucia had a slightly lopsided crown of candles. I thought it was just Daughter, 15 years ago. But they are heavy things, those crowns. With live candles. The Resident IT Consultant asked where the people with the wet towels and the buckets of water were, and we decided they presumably hid behind the camera. He was on bucket guard more than once in the seamen’s church.
Later in the evening I watched Swedish television’s Lucia offering, filmed in Jukkasjärvi. It was beautiful too, in a different way. Very cold, judging by the breaths coming from Lucia and her many attendants. They were out of doors in the darkness of morning. There were reindeer. Behind the cellist sitting in the woods.
I had to look the place up. You can tell from the name that it’s in the far north, but how far? More or less next to Kiruna. Very beautiful, and very dark. And those teenagers sang so beautifully. They looked less slim than you’d expect, until you realise that they were wearing thick white coats, and mittens.
Both these Lucia events were wonderful. For the exile in me, the London one was better. I crave recognition, by which I mean I need to hear the same old songs again. The Jukkasjärvi selection consisted of mostly new [to me] songs.
Both the Lucias were called Lina.
And the cellist, with the reindeer behind him, looked very much like he was straight out of a Danish crime series. But with colder fingers.