Dark Is Light Is

There’s a lot to love about regional holidays. The traditions that spring up can tell us so much about the spirit of a culture. My favorite Swedish holiday is a December holiday called Lucia. Every year on December 13th, winter solstice in the Julian Calendar, the whole city would smell like saffron. The lussekatter, Lucia Cats, are a beautiful golden pastry filled with saffron and  shaped like a curly S with a raisin in the center of each circle. They are only supposed to be eaten on that day, but of course they are everywhere for weeks before. The name Lucia comes from the latin Lux, which means light, and in essence it is the celebration of light in the midst of the darkest time of the year. It is a combination of celebrating the catholic saint and viking traditions. 

When I was a kid, every year on Lucia I had multiple concerts and I loved it. I loved that music was at the center of this holiday. There was so much ceremony and reverence around this set of songs. Everyone wore long white robes, and around our waists we would tie a red ribbon symbolizing the blood of Saint Lucia (she was a martyr, dying for her belief) or silver glitter if we were Tärnor. The guys would wear golden cone-shaped hats and carry golden stars on the top of a stick. The younger kids would carry electric candles and it was a rite of passage to graduate to the real candles. The girl portraying Lucia would wear a crown of candles in her hair. You would practice by walking with a book balanced on your head to walk level and avoid getting candle wax in your hair. 

Even the south of Sweden, where I grew up, is very dark for much of the year. I loved Lucia because I loved the idea of music being the thing that brings light into our lives, even in the darkest times. December would come and suddenly there would be lights in every window, overnight. Every year I would look forward to it, and even though I knew it was coming the beauty of it all would surprise me. It felt like community. 

December is the month I feel the most homesick for Sweden. I’ve been living in the US for 15 years now, and the holidays don’t feel the same here. So to hold on to my tradition, in my own way, I wrote these arrangements of the Swedish Lucia songs. Some of them are only sung on December 13th, but some of them are around for the whole holiday season. My band and I have been playing these in clubs around New York City for 8 years. We have developed these arrangements over time, a few new ones added each year. We’ve played them at Rockwood Music Hall, Cornelia Street Cafe (just weeks before they shut their doors for good), and at the 55 Bar. This year, because Covid, we will not be performing them for a live audience for the first time in 8 years. Instead, we made this record so we can celebrate at a distance.


The Songs

När Juldagsmorgon Glimmar translates to “when Christmas morning sparkles” and is traditionally a slow melody with lyrics about the religious aspect of Christmas morning. In this arrangement I wanted to capture the visual of moonlight bouncing off of snow. The light moves fast and looks like it’s coming at you from all directions. Changing the tempo and time signature captures this bouncing, and making the harmony modal depicts the expanse of a landscape where everything is the same color as far as you can see. In this song the snow brings the light in the darkness.

Hej Tomtegubbar Slå I Glasen is typically played in a jaunty manner. The lyrics are about the Tomte gubbe, a small gnome that in Swedish folklore are sort of a year around Santa. They are only really talked about around Christmas. In this song they are drinking and being merry (slå i glasen means hit the glasses together), but the lyrics are all about how we are only here for a fleeting while and that it is a lot of pain and hassle. I find these lyrics to be full of angst about the impermanence of our existence, and I wanted to bring out the feelings underneath rather than the visual of the happy drinking gnome Santas.

Sankta Lucia is the slow and graceful processional in and out for what is called the Luciatåg, the Lucia train. The lyric that always struck me is the line about the sleeping shadows in “the parts that the sun forgot”. Whenever I would be a part of this slow procession in celebration of light I would experience a huge amount of restraint. It felt almost unnatural to have such a joyful concept be portrayed in such a somber way. This arrangement invites that joy out in the open. Welcome back to the light!

När Det Lider Mot Jul is one of those songs that just tastes like Christmas. With the first four notes, everyone knows what is coming. It is a beautiful melody with lyrics about light returning, how the descent of darkness is a sign that the light will come back. I realized in arranging this tune that the word “lider” can mean both suffer and move toward in Swedish. For 2020, this felt on point. When we suffer toward Christmas….


Nu Tändas Tusen Juleljus, the lighting of a thousand Christmas lights makes me think of the overnight community decorating that happens on December 1st. Suddenly every window has a light and the dark of the world feels a little less complete.

Julpolska is a straight up christmas song. I’ve always loved the community aspect of holidays, and this song makes me think of dancing. It’s a polska, a traditional Swedish dance, that I here mixed with the Chacarera rhythm from Argentina and some harmonic concepts from Olivier Messiaen. Because, on the fundamental level, it is all music and it all belongs together.

“Så Mörk Är Natten” means “How Dark Is The Night”. The dark in the middle of winter is overwhelming. It’s most, if not all, of the day depending on how far north you go. Light becomes very important almost to the point of a diety. This song is about how the arrival of Lucia means that you know the light is about to return. Her presence means things are about to change. I’ve always felt this song encapsulated the hope of waiting for something you know will come. In this arrangement I wanted to create a feeling of a warm room waiting from both directions. The inside perspective with hot chocolate and cozy lights, and the outside perspective of returning home and anticipating the warmth and light you know is waiting.