While usually we stay away from sweeping generalisations, particularly when they’re made about entire nationalities, there are some too true to be subdued, including the fact that Swedes are unequivocally excellent at Christmas. History and cultural exchange have created traditions that are a merge of Norse and Germanic, Pagan and Christian, and their manner of decorating has an atmosphere of warmth, as well as an enviable ‘sort of rustic elegance,’ observes this magazine’s Features Editor, Elizabeth Metcalfe. It can come coupled with a restraint that appeals to the more minimally inclined amongst us, there’s a timeless, fairytale quality, and attention paid to comfort. The country’s northerly position makes for circumstances that, conceivably, have seen their talent born from necessity. ‘Winter is dark in Sweden, so incredibly dark,’ points out textile designer Cathy Nordström; ‘our coping mechanism is to make the home as cozy as possible – and decorate.’ So what ideas might we glean from Swedish schemes?
A celebration of light
An emphasis on light is not unique to Sweden – symbolically, light stands for hope - but it is there that a component of decorating is ‘considering what the house looks like from the outside,’ notes Beata Heuman in her recently-released Christmas feature she filmed to accompany her BBC Maestro course. She has erected gas lanterns outside the west London house that doubles as her showroom, as well putting the traditional Swedish tiered candelabra in every window, which Cathy does, too (for those that prefer this aesthetic to a flashing Santa in a sleigh, know that exquisite folk-painted examples can be found on eBay.) Crucial to note is that the candles themselves are battery operated, which is the safer option for rooms you’re not in all the time.
Further candles (real ones) will be on the table, in wall sconces - Beata favours a brass back to these, to accentuate and reflect the flickering loveliness, and suggests making sure we remember otherwise forgotten corners - and on the tree (where Beata goes electric again.) Design director of Chelsea Textiles, Jenny Simpson, whose heritage sees a blending of Swedish and English Christmas customs, recommends looking to the Swedish design house Svenkst Tenn for their candle holders.
And the festival of St. Lucia is an important moment. Celebrated on December 13, it remembers the 3rd century martyr St. Lucia who brought food to persecuted Christians in hiding (thus awarding light to their darkest hours.) According to custom, the eldest daughter of the household dresses in white, and wears a crown of candles to offer saffron buns to her parents. Those buns – or lusse bulle – are a mainstay of Beata’s Advent, not least for the scent which she views as another layer to decoration; there’s a recipe in the just-published The Christmas Season: Created by Scandinavian Artists. Cinnamon buns are a similar seasonal treat, and you can find the renowned Swedish chef Magnus Nillson’s way of making them here.
Bringing the outside in
Alongside light is the prominence afforded to nature. There is, of course the Christmas tree, but there might also be an Adventsgran – a smaller fir tree that can stand on the table - and a wreath or three; interior designer Marie-Louise Sjögren hangs them inside the windows of her dining room in her house on the Stockholm archipelago, where they pick up on the greenery on the table. The designer Camilla Rosén, who now lives in Denmark but grew up in Sweden, brings in larch branches, which in December are bare of needles, but covered with small cones. And Beata has created garlands from blue spruce, that she has strung from the ceiling in her drawing room: ‘it brings a bit of drama . . . without takin up any volume because it’s all happening above your head.’ Moreover, ‘it’s not too difficult to do yourself,’ she says, explaining the organisation of branches along a rope, kept in place with wire.
Flowers are employed: Beata recommends having several pots of bulbs on the go as it’s hard to time their emergence, Camilla favours tulips and amaryllis, and Cathy has vases of pink and red carnations on the table. And fruit appears, too. This year, Beata has strung faux apples and pears from her tree (alongside the battery-operated candles) but she’s also putting bowls of frosted fruit on her table, made by coating the real thing in eggwhite and rolling them in sugar. It looks especially pretty when the fruit you start with is of a strong hue: think red apples, and berries. She also studs oranges with cloves, something she’s been doing since childhood. ‘We all did different patterns,’ she remembers, describing their being tied with a double red satin bow. ‘They’re so simple and they fill the house with this scent that tells you it’s Christmas time.’
The beauty of folk
There are, naturally, further decorations – which are markedly un-garish. ‘We don’t want [Christmas] to be too plastic or vulgar,’ says Cathy. ‘It’s all about traditional décor rooted in our history,’ and she lists, besides candelabra, ‘straw ornaments, gingerbread houses [which bring another layer of scent, and we can provide Magnus Nillson’s recipe for that, too], folk-inspired woven textiles, table runners with embroidered motifs, and paper stars’ - most of which are hand-made.
The straw ornaments tend to be in expected forms, though there is also - details Katrine Martensen-Larsen, author of The Christmas Season: Created by Scandinavian Artists - the julebuk, a straw-braided goat that symbolises a new year rich with grain. The textiles might feature biblical scenes, while the paper stars – or hernhuterstjärnor - are hung at every window above the candelabra (further validating the choice of battery-operated candles.) And then there is doubtlessly a tomte or two (or more) perched on a shelf or mantlepiece: a little bearded man, dressed in red and grey, who has, in recent times, merged with the idea of Father Christmas, and offers protection to the home.
Den röda tråden, lagom, and mys
But there is something else that makes the Swedish approach so successful, and that is how certain of their existing life philosophies extend to decorating. Den röda tråden, which translates as the ‘the red thread’, refers to a common theme or unifying idea that runs through something. We can see it in the harmony of colour schemes, and the spread of decorations throughout the house, rather than there all being massed in one room.
Then, lagom means ‘just the right amount’, or ‘in moderation’ – giving us the restraint that was mentioned in the introduction (it can seem particularly seductive to non-Swedes as this month of excess continues) and which ensures there’s still plenty of space for family, friends and neighbours to gather for glögg parties, and for them to be able to put their glasses down on surfaces. And finally there’s mys, a word that relates strongly to interiors, and refers to comfort, coziness, and simple pleasures such as soft furnishings, baking, and open fires. ‘We make our home the centre of our wellbeing,’ says Cathy. ‘Somewhere we feel safe, warm, and grounded.’ Which is an ideology worth remembering - Christmas, or not.
