Edinburgh Fringe 2026
Daughter of Sweden – That One Princess Who Got Drunk with Lizzie I and Thrown Out of England
Teater Kaleido, By/With: Cecilia Säverman, Director: Judith Hollander
Genre: Theatre
Venue: theSpace@Surgeons Hall
Festival: Edinburgh Fringe
Low Down
The story of Cecilia of Sweden, a significant but now distant, somewhat obscure 16th century Swedish royal, the daughter of King Gustav Vasa, founding father of modern Sweden. Written and performed by Cecilia Säverman, it relates the struggles of a bird to break free from her gilded cage, unwilling to accept, to modern eyes, the draconian societal constraints facing women of that era.
Review
Lights come up on a museum exhibition featuring a long-forgotten minor royal of centuries past, with an open, elegant coffin, treasure chest, spinning wheel, exquisitely dressed mannequin and, naturally, a red carpet. But the museum is closed. For good. Cecilia of Sweden has been officially cancelled. The feisty princess of the Vasa dynasty, daughter of Sweden’s founding father, King Gustav Vasa, has been shuttered.
So regales Cecilia Säverman, writer and performer of Daughter of Sweden – That One Princess Who Got Drunk with Lizzie I and Thrown Out of England, a biographical exploration with a modernist twist of Cecilia Vasa, a bird that refuses to be caged, whatever the consequences.
Säverman starts and finishes this piece as a frail octogenarian, having outlived her troublesome, controlling siblings and all but one of her children in a remarkable life that challenged the male enforced boundaries of womanhood beyond breaking point.
With an almost magical on-stage transformation from a woman of 80 plus to a girl of less than 20 (she should patent that kind of makeover and monetise it in true Vasa form), Säverman morphs into the vibrant, flirtatious teenage Cecilia, whose youthful promiscuity soon lands her in the proverbial hot water with her father.
Cecilia’s lover is lobbed into the clink and her wings are clipped; in modern idiomatic parlance (used with alacrity throughout this enchanting performance), she’s grounded. A soiled daughter has no value to a King seeking to use his offspring to expand his dynasty through that Renaissance staple – the strategic marriage. All Cecilia is left with is a chastity medallion.
But Cecilia wants out, to break her father’s leash. She’s a free spirit in an age when women had to know their place and chastity was a sine qua non, but she somehow elicits an invitation to visit England from the reigning monarch, one who strengthened Tudor England, defeated Spain and spawned a cultural revolution. Elizabeth I, a woman.
We segue to England as Cecilia and her newly acquired husband, Christopher of Baden-Rodemachern, seek to form an alliance between England and Sweden, burning through money in the attempt to impress, clinging to the hope that Cecilia’s promised dowry will one day arrive, allowing them to pay off a growing gaggle of creditors, including the Queen herself. As usual in this sort of story, the wheels come off the bus, so the couple and their growing family attempt to flee England only to be ambushed by those canny creditors.
Relieved of everything they possess, it’s a constant struggle to survive; her eldest son betrays her; her only daughter is snatched away as a baby; her husband dies and her lands (and income) are removed through the nefarious actions of her husband’s secretary. It’s a tale of royal familial tensions with the myriad “royal spares” embroiled in infidelity, indiscretions and financial shenanigans, plus a decent serving of misogyny on toast. Plus ca change, plus c’est la même chose.
Säverman weaves this complicated tale with verve and alacrity, playing a wide range of clearly differentiated characters, using a range of accents, mannerisms, posture and physical theatre. There’s an abundance of energy, emotion and pace but with enough space to allow the audience to assimilate the twists and turns in this captivating piece of theatre. She’s a consummate and very natural storyteller with an acute sense of comic timing, creating moments of light relief in what is at times a chilling reminder of the endemic female oppression that was taken for granted and, on the face of it, largely accepted by those oppressed as “their lot”.
Judith Hollander’s direction is nicely understated and assured, Svart Adam Solander’s light and sound programming is supportive and there’s some superlative costuming from Cornelia Edman. Thought-provoking, informative and eloquently delivered, Daughter of Sweden is a piece of theatre, art even, that’s well worth seeking out. Highly recommended.
