Of all the luminescent celebrations which take place in northern climes at this time of year, Sweden’s Sankta Lucia ritual must be one of the loveliest; the appearance, through the ever-encroaching darkness, of a white-robed figure crowned with a halo of light.
Like many seasonal traditions, Sankta Lucia’s pedigree is a 57-varieties mix of pagan and Christian, truth and legend. But I can confirm that she appeared in Ireland on December 13th, 1991, because I wrote the article which accompanied this photograph.
The headline read: “Shedding Light on a Swedish Christmas” and the occasion was the visit of the Stockholm Bach Choir, who came to Dublin to perform at Christ Church Cathedral and in Greystones.
The role of Lucia was played by Kim Olin, and her attendants were drawn from the “200 or so” Swedes then living in Ireland.
Now this was before the days of Nordic crime dramas on the telly, when we didn’t know our “hej” from our “nej”. It was also before the internet, so I’ve no idea how I was able to bang on so confidently about a tradition I had never previously heard of.
“The Lucia celebration dates back to Viking times,” I explained. “The night between December 12th and 13th was believed to be the longest of the year, so people went out for a meal in the middle of the night and lit candles and torches to fortify them for the dark days ahead.”
In our photo the central figure is looking suitably saintly, though her upraised eyes suggest vague unease as to the stability of her elaborate fiery headdress: it’s one thing to bring light to an ancient cathedral, quite another to burn it to the ground.
Happily no health and safety disasters ensued and, having made regular appearances here in recent years, Sankta Lucia is well on her way to becoming an Irish seasonal tradition. Which is just, frankly, fantastisk.