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MIDSUMMER

Expat Swedes gather for Manhattan Midsummer

With the Statue of Liberty providing the backdrop, modern-day expat Swedes gather to enliven the traditions of the mother country to celebrate Midsummer in lower Manhattan's Battery Park, writes Mischa Benoit-Lavelle.  

Expat Swedes gather for Manhattan Midsummer
Photo: Jonas Cuenin

New York, with the Statue of Liberty shimmering in the 30-degree heat, this is not a Midsummer celebration like those you see in Sweden. But rising in the central green is a familiar sight – a maypole adorned with sunflowers and linden boughs, a little slice of Sweden in downtown Manhattan.

“It’s an interesting mix of being in the park at the southern tip of Manhattan with a view over the Statue of Liberty and the skyscrapers in the background…and this really Swedish atmosphere. It’s a really fun combination,” said Melinda Martino, director of public affairs and communications for the Consulate General of Sweden in New York.

All of the trappings of the holiday are here: a sing-along of new and old Swedish favorites, fiddlers in folk costumes, and traditional dances around the maypole. There is a long line outside of the Swedish Women’s Educational Association’s stand for flower wreaths, and men, women and children of all nationalities can be seen sporting the arrangements in their hair.

“I like to do things very authentically, very traditionally,” said Abby Ehrlich, director of parks programming for the Battery Parks Conservancy and one of the lead organizers of the event. She says that while other Midsummer celebrations take more advantage of commercial opportunities, “we prefer to keep it a day where it’s just about nature and picnicking and being with friends and family.”

For all its authenticity, the event has some distinct New York touches as well, including a proclamation from Mayor Michael Bloomberg.

After a short introduction by David E. R. Dangoor, Consul General of Sweden in New York for the past six months, Brian Anderson of the City Records Office takes to the stage to read the Mayor’s proclamation.

“Ever since 1639,” intoned Anderson in a thick New York accent, “when Swede Jonas Bronck settled the area north of Manhattan that would later bear his name, Sweden has made tremendous contributions to New York City.”

New York was never a major center of Swedish immigration the way Chicago or Minneapolis were, but Swedes flock to the city in droves today, both to visit and to stay. While there are no definite numbers, Consul General Dangoor estimates that up to 30,000 Swedish-born people reside in the greater New York area.

The event has been hosted by the Battery Parks Conservancy for fifteen years and consistently draws a crowd numbering in the thousands, about half of them Swedish, to Robert Wagner Park: a small, neatly manicured set of lawns that overlook the confluence of the Hudson and East Rivers.

Many of the performing groups that return from year to year are made up not of native Swedes, but of descendants of Swedish immigrants who have rediscovered their roots. Rediscovered, that is, or simply never forgotten: the Swedish Folkdancers, who performed at the event, recently celebrated their 104th anniversary.

The crowd is in many ways reflective of the Swedish expatriate community in New York: many young professionals and mixed Swedish-American couples and families, slickly dressed businessmen and golden-headed nannies. It is a diverse group, but one that is very proud of its culture.

“When you move out of a country, somehow the culture of that country becomes more important to you,” said Erik Bohman of the Sound of Sweden Choir, who earlier had led the crowd in a rendition of Abba’s “Thank You for the Music.”

“When you become an expatriate yourself, you realize how much your home country culture means, and how important those rituals are,” said Bohman.

Bohman added that being a Swede in the US has been a learning experience and one that a lot of his fellow countrymen could benefit from.

“In Sweden, I don’t think the tolerance level is as high. So people sometimes question, ‘why do these people keep their culture?’ But I’m here as a Swedish immigrant and of course I keep my culture, it’s very important to me.”

The New York City Midsummer celebration is a particularly grand example of the Swedish diaspora’s ability to hold on to its culture while fully integrating on a global scale.

“My parents’ generation still know these folk dances that would be forgotten in any other country,” said Bohman. “Hopefully we can keep doing it here.”

As the sun starts to set over the swelling waves of Upper New York Bay, the park is still jam-packed with people, picnic blankets cover every inch of green space, and the air is filled with the smell of Swedish meatballs and the sounds of folk songs. It appears that Swedish Midsummer in New York has a long, bright future ahead of it.

Mischa Benoit-Lavelle is freelance writer based in New York City.

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SWEDEN

Ten things to hate about Midsummer in Sweden

Okay, we love Midsummer. But one must admit... there are a few things that can get on your nerves.

Ten things to hate about Midsummer in Sweden
Because the weather is always like this. Photo: Werner Nystrand/Folio/imagebank.sweden.se

This is a revamp of this old gallery article first published by The Local in 2014.

1. The day after Midsummer

It's still raining, and you've got a throbbing migraine and nausea in your stomach. And you keep thinking, “It's not worth it”. But you'll do it all over again next year…


Not worth it. Not worth it. Photo: Anders Wiklund/TT

2. Throat-charring booze

They don't call it “brännvin” (literally 'fire wine') for nothing. Despite attempts to dress up this second-rate moonshine with fancy names and flavours like elderberry or blackcurrant, the swill downed following songs sung around the Midsummer table will most certainly leave a bad taste in your mouth.


Snaps, akvavit or brännvin. It's got many names, but it doesn't change its flavour. Photo: Gorm Kallestad/NTB scanpix/TT

3. Enough with the herring already!

Why, WHY does every Swedish holiday require one to down copious helpings of pickled herring? No matter how many pieces of crisp bread or newly boiled 'fresh potatoes' you have with it, sill is still slimy and sour. More than enough herring is consumed at Easter or Christmas to amply satisfy the annual herring intake – so why not spend Midsummer grilling instead?

MEMBERS' QUIZ: Test your Swedish Midsummer knowledge

Herring, herring everywhere. Photo: Fredrik Sandberg/TT

4. The weather

It's the longest and supposedly the sunniest day of the year. But you know it won't be. It's bound to rain, or at least the threat of rain will hang over your head all day long. It may even snow (we're not kidding).


It will invariably start to rain. Photo: Susanne Nilsson /Flickr

5. Ridiculous costumes

Some may find them cute or endearing, but the traditional blue and yellow get-ups worn by many on Midsummer is just plain wrong for any number of reasons. For starters, what exactly does a pagan holiday rooted in the Middle Ages have to do with a contrived symbol for Swedish nationalism dating to the end of the early 1900s? If you want to look like a Smurf who spilt a can of yellow paint in your lap, be my guest – but save it for National Day, June 6th.

People wearing Swedish regional traditional wear. Photo: [kajsa] / Flickr

6. The curse of high expectations

Isn't it enough to have one holiday a year where we look back and inevitably feel let down by all that wasn't? Not unlike New Year's, Midsummer is so wrapped up in people's idealised images of how things are supposed to be that it's nearly impossible to come away feeling like the experience lived up to pre-show billing, no matter how much alcohol is consumed.


Midsummer… yay… Photo: Janerik Henriksson/TT

7. The mosquitoes

This is Midsummer, not Halloween! But it's summer and it's wet and the troops of blood-suckers are on the march. You insist on wearing your summer gear, which means your arms and legs will be covered by big red welts…

Photo: Maria Morri/ Flickr

8. Dancing frogs and prancing pigs

Soon after the Maypole has reached its fully erect state, Midsummer revellers enter some sort of zombie-like trance which prompts them to make utter buffoons of themselves by dancing and singing in a series of ill-formed concentric circles.

READ ALSO: The seven bizarre traditions that make up Swedish Midsummer

Watching Swedes fumble through “Små grodorna” ('Little frogs') is a bit like witnessing a slow-motion auditory and visual train wreck which leaves one's psyche scarred.

 

Un post condiviso da Frida Hjorth (@fridahjorth) in data: 29 Giu 2016 alle ore 23:10 PDT

9. It's the beginning of the end.

Indeed, the worst thing about Midsummer in Sweden is that it's the beginning of the end of the season of seemingly never-ending light. Even if you somehow manage to get through the snaps and sill, there's no escaping the fact that it's all downhill from here.

The days get shorter, the weather won’t get much warmer, and before you know it we'll be dusting off those winter boots again and watching the sunset on our lunch hours. (Sigh).

10. Not being Swedish

Then there are those of us who will never be Swedish. We don't have that little red cottage in the countryside. We weren't raised with midsummer celebrations, and we certainly weren't raised with sill. And we are thus cursed to either overdo it, or simply never “get it”.

Pickled herring and snaps? Still don't get it. Photo: Melker Dahlstrand/Image Bank Sweden

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