Caroline Roosmark
1 maj – 28 september 2025
The poetic photographer from Stockholm who soulfully and with mastery portrays fabulous women.
Caroline Roosmark, a Swedish photographer from Stockholm, is well known for her profound portraits of Swedish cultural figures, among others. As a photographer, Roosmark’s work is characterized by tight composition, closeness and a particularly developed sense of the moment. She is appreciated for her unusual ability to capture the gaze and expression in people, in a very precise and extraordinarily perfect way.
Roosmark’s contribution to Swedish photography ranges from the popular to the soulful. She has made a particular mark through her project ”Sagolika Kvinnor” (Fairytale Women), a calendar which highlights women based on well-known historical events, fairy tales, myths and roles. The viewer meets imaginative elements combined with the depth of human destinies.
Roosmark’s wall calendar has been a recurring photo project for over twenty years. In 2018, in connection with #Metoo and in the footsteps of the turbulence surrounding Sara Danius’ resignation as permanent secretary of the Swedish Academy, the calendar project switched from previously containing both men and women, to portraying only ”Sagolika Kvinnor”. The calendar supports the activity center Fryshuset’s project ”Barn till ensamma mammor” (children of single mothers), a social activity aimed at children and single mothers living in socio-economic vulnerability.
Roosmark has published several books, and since 2021 she has been represented in the state’s portrait collection with a portrait of former Minister of Foreign Affairs Margot Wallström. Roosmark has only participated in a few group exhibitions, which is why it is extra honouring that she has chosen to show a selection of motifs from the photo project ”Sagolika Kvinnor” during the summer season at Gamla Kraftstationen.
Hemsida: www.roosmark.com
Instagram: @carolineroosmark
Caroline Roosmark
Sara Danius
The occupying power had not counted on her. Her stature, steadfastness and integrity. After initially being praised, the accusations against her become fanatical. Jeanne is called a witch, befriending evil spirits and allowing herself to be worshipped as an idol. She has made heretical statements. The self-appointed judge claimed that she was the worst in all of history. We are touched by her unusual fate, her enigmatic personality. Now the armor is on the shelf and chair number seven is empty. We will not forget the tie-dye rebellion. Women spoke and were heard. Metoo. No Nobel Prize was given, but a number of women took courage and dared to report. It is about decency, respect and the equal value of all people. That is not a small thing.
From Sagolika Kvinnor 2019
Julia Duvenius
Sweden’s scandalous princess Cecilia Vasa, born in 1540, was mocked, threatened and hated for the place she took, both politically and in her unfettered love life. In her quest for freedom, Cecilia Vasa was locked up, given away, beaten and even exiled from Sweden. For her time, she managed to do more than most: mother, politician, diplomat, ambassador and hijacker. After her husband’s death in 1575, Cecilia was left alone with her sons and all her debts. Using her ships, she therefore began to hijack other ships in the Baltic Sea. She lived to be 87 years old.
From Sagolika kvinnor 2025
Camilla Läckberg
This bitch is Queen, beautiful poetry. The text is insightfully presented about a tough world where tough men from a position believe they have real power. Here we are talking about actual power. The power that takes precedence. That is, who says to whom, that this is how the world looks. Popularly called the “narrative”. The story is the cornerstone, our totem that we should gather around. The “story” we should believe in. For a long time, many took that power for granted, something that was passed down from man to man as an inheritance, a kind of entailed estate. That time is now behind us.
From Sagolika kvinnor 2025
More storys from pictures in the exhibition:
Helena Bergström
She was called the Virgin Queen and married to power. A political body, destined to rule. Her great love, Robert Dudley, remained a friend, but she irritably referred to his wife as ”that she-wolf.”
After the queen’s death, among her most private belongings, a letter was found with her handwriting: ”His last letter.”
Shima Niavarani
Carefully, Elvira Madigan puts one foot in front of the other. One day, it won’t matter. The rope sways gently at first, then more forcefully, and she takes a step right into the white unknown.
For a long time, Elvira rests under the snow but will wake again. To Andante, Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 21.
Dagny Carlsson
The old queen arrives at a time when there are comforting signs of restitution for older women’s claims to wisdom and power. No longer hunted like witches or seen over the shoulder as gray old ladies. Not forgotten in understaffed nursing homes and spoken to like children.
Now, she takes her place on the throne in the forest clearing with her long life experience of protection.
A playful glimpse of dress fabric peeks out from under her cloak. The sparrow at her heart looks out through her aged face, the same sparrow that never gets too old for curiosity and has long made peace with the fact that what endures is change.
She will soon lay the crown among the autumn leaves. And soar over the forest on swift wings.
Cherrie – Sherihan Hersi
When the town straightens its back, she stands there, Araweelo, the queen from Somali myths. With boldness on her shoulder, fragility within, ready to share. She is far away and near, in postcode 163. If we really want to prevent more young people from being reduced to dark statistics in the white world, we should listen to her. She helps us interpret and convey the world in which we all live our lives. Her voice helps us create our own spaces, even in a new time. It is no fairy tale, it is reality.
Asabea Britton
Cherish it well, for now it is your moment on earth, wrote Wilhelm Moberg. When your time comes one day, it may just be because your body, there and then, remembers this moment, like when you and I for a moment found peace in an otherwise troubled time. One summer day, we sat there in the clearing, just the two of us, listening, breathing, taking in our moment on earth. Those moments are few, they are short, and they disappear soon, so cherish them well. Sit down for a moment to rest and breathe calmly. A late summer day you remember for its scent, taste, and peace. Listen and enjoy for a moment, my child.
Efva Attling
This was a man’s place, here he sat sipping cognac, often with a cigar in hand, reasoning about business, hunting rifles, and other important matters. Now, a woman sits there in the leather armchair. Just like he used to, confidently looking forward into the future. A dramatic shift of place, a confrontation with the misconception of who has access or owns the room. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, I say changed is changed, and it will never be the same again. – I’m here now, is there something?
Harriet Roosmark
You sat young, fair, shimmering, and light at the edge of the dark tarn, as strong as you were fragile and careful back then. Do you now appear as the one you became? A sense of time that has caressed all life for so many years, alive, and even more so, the encounter with you now. Shimmering, wrinkled, strong but still fragile. Even if only for a moment, the memory of you is young. Hurry, those who wish to see, for time is like the day, something that quickly passes. Stop, listen, observe, there she sits still today, though now at the edge of the forest.
Suzanne Reuter
She is the matriarch, by nature given strength, she surrenders to it, sensual and ready, receptive but not tempted, something new but what? She is different from anyone else who immediately, confidently and proudly proclaims to be noticeably rejuvenated in the meeting with the new. The sensation, as longed-for as it is experienced. Maybe it’s the warmth of the sun or from your body. A bewildering and somewhat unexpected feeling, quite late, or are you born anew? Say it, you who know, for to me, you are the lilac scent of summer that has soon bloomed. Who knows what it carries with it—adventures, hopes, and other things that invite to dance and play.
Zara Larsson
Olympe de Gouges, born in France in 1748. Political advocate, peace activist, feminist, playwright, and opponent of slavery who described society’s inequality and cruelty. She wrote the Declaration of the Rights of Woman and the Female Citizen. Loud and eloquent, she spread insights in a troubled time.
Just like now, when people challenge the same unequal and prejudiced structures around the world. Her life ended brutally at the guillotine in 1793. We remember her words: ”Wake up! Do not expect to get anything for free. The torch of truth is indeed shining in our direction, but nothing will change unless we take our fate into our own hands—and in the end, be ready to sacrifice our lives for our rights.” Here in Sweden, women’s suffrage turns 100 in 2021.
Lena Endre
Angel crystals, like billions of sparkling, her gaze and face radiant, sending out. A glimpse of the Milky Way on a starry night. She is there, as if she came from a fairy tale. Delicate but unshakable, she stands, all doubt from earlier years is gone. Now, proof is captured in a picture, in movement, facing us with hope, strength, and inspiration, with the dream of the future carried by light clarity and courage. It’s over, let us move on once again and welcome this new year.
Linda-Marie Nilsson
Moss, soft and tender, your feet leave traces. Delicately, the wind shapes and waves your hair, though the curls, a little, the moisture keeps them curling. What are you doing here on the slope, why does your gaze seem so serious, soft, wise, and clear? It’s clear that your steps know their way down and away from here, but only your lips could say where. So curious, but must wait. Why this half-eaten apple lingers is the riddle that never gets an answer.
Janice Kavander
The mirage, this deceptive sensation, thin layers of vibrating strings that fade away. Why, and for what reason? A moment, the shortest of all meetings, but still, it was there. From a distance, yes, so relentlessly tangible, a heartbeat away from each other, but no more. If I had just reached out a hand, if only for a moment, brushed against your arm, I would have. Scented with a shimmer of promises made in moments I can hardly believe were real. That one day I will become yours. Dear memory, promise to stay, if only for a moment.
Marie Göranzon
Determined, the gaze is serious, experienced, penetrating, not yielding, friend or tempting. There is also something solitary. A scratch in this proud posture. Dressed in gold and a blue cloak, as the queen she is, she becomes alone in a world that only has room for one, but what is her world? In antiquity, the gods mingled with the human world for fun, in the world of tales, high and low often meet, anything is possible. Who is she who stands like that? Serious or playful? Maybe everything will become clear in the light of reality the day she steps into a new character, having left fiction and the world of make-believe. That’s where she will begin, but no one knows how it will unfold today.
Eva Dahlgren
This warm, blooming day, from morning to evening, delicate and strong at the same time. Woven by an unknown hand, its wings carry a recently forgotten world, just like memory, the scent is something that lingers. A time that gently fled now. The sound is still there, passages, paths laid, once walked by lovers who ran away for a while. To fulfill their needs to meet, love, and kiss. Embracing, as pairs, different but like voices forming pairs. Side by side, an excellence that only queens carry. It is damask that dreams, woven stubbornly still, that life is like a passage, alive, playful, and utterly wonderful.
Camilla Hamid
Wonderful is short, so too is the time of the cherry blossoms, which, like dreams, pass over the sea during the night a thousand times, in one single night. A sensation, peaceful like the bloom you just carried so richly. Rustling fragile, the fabric of your dress is heard quickly disappearing. You sweep through space, leaving scents, traces of blooming, rubies, emeralds, and jewels. Treasures overflowing, spilling over, and lingering. Riches to bathe in, the world of fairy tales has no end, only a new beginning for a new blooming adventure. You are short, fragile, and always there for me, like my dream of you, which I always carry with love.
Agneta Sjödin
The origin of beauty, is it the perfect image of nature’s order arranged in a comprehensible system? Humanity is our common ownership. Our bodies are indivisible, a private asset that cannot be shared with anyone else. Therefore, it’s not strange if we want to preserve its perfection, it is all the more shareable and can be regarded as public, thus being a kind of shared asset, which today is extremely valuable when many live in multiple worlds, one indivisible and one shareable.
The Thinker – Bianca Kronlöf
The Thinker. We are used to seeing him, the athletic man bent forward on a stone, immersed in deep thought. Now, she sits there in a similar position but not like him—contemplating her relationship to the surroundings that, for the most part, have gone his way, based on his perspective.
Her gaze reflects experiences from a hard but enlightening journey. She has explored new territories, distant places, yet close. Day by day, she has repeatedly encountered remnants—faint patterns that, like motifs on the walls of a cave forgotten for millennia, describe how life once was.
Everyday life darkens from constantly being questioned, faced with “What are you doing here?” In a relationship, this is an expression of self-authority meant to diminish, to take power over another. But now, a crack has opened up, long-forgotten explanations, locked behind heavy gates, have reluctantly opened up for her. It has been a steel bath for her to fight year after year on men’s terms to achieve her rightful success. Now, it’s her turn on the stone. Right here, she takes a break, she needs rest, time to think, she is pondering the state of things and the resistance of reality. No wonder her skin has taken on a metallic surface. As a result of all the meetings that have hardened her, a layer upon layer meant to protect her from those who do not want to allow her to take space as an equal.
In a world that no longer accommodates the previous obvious participants, it can be dangerous, she thinks. She says loudly to remind others that the subtle silence is dangerous. Her words and thoughts spread, thoughts that drill deep into decayed systems, rotten structures that have carried those who have rejected her. The era of change is here, but beware, don’t be fooled by an image. Never think the struggle is won until reality says it and you hear his voice—it’s over, and we are both equally worthy now.
Anja Pärson
The games are over, the winner crowned. The time was the best. The results carved in the snow. The tracks of speed are her language, we follow her all the way to the podium, performances almost impossible for the rest of us to comprehend. Applause and hugs seem never-ending, glittering gold, the crown of the achievement. Majestic, calm, a cool smile as if she were completely unaffected by what happens around her. This is the winter games’ Anja, the queen of the steep slopes we see.
Stina Wollter
Gunnar Ekelöf wrote the poem Samothrake during World War II. There, people row on a ship, abandoned by the world. They sing about finding the tiller and about the victory goddess Nike who will help them find port. Even today, refugees cross the Aegean Sea. They too dream of one day becoming Nike—vulnerable but unstoppable. That one day, everyone will arrive and live in peace, in billions of different forms, that there is a place for us, no matter who we are.
Marie Fredriksson
Wonderful are the days when your music is heard so clearly. It is hard to understand, but the realization comes one morning when the radio plays your song, and naturally, we sing along. It’s of little use to ponder so, listen to the feeling of the song and its tone. Chords recently heard, reminding us of music and power that vibrantly belonged then. Like in Tro… or Sparvöga… it was your words, your music, tracks that always remain… It Must Have Been Love, so strange yet everything feels so normal and the same again, though you are no longer here, yet you are still here, how wonderful those times were, but far too short for many and for few.
Pernilla Wahlgren
The eye of the beholder, what do you think? That the woman in the picture is a victim or an individual who has chosen for herself? That she is exposed to please? Everything fits within you, that which transforms and draws out what? Upset, turned on, or angry.
See a woman who could be yours, or your sister, mother, wife, or beloved daughter. Challenging and perhaps hard to swallow, but this is how she looks right here and now. Exposed, celebrated, or admired, are you the one who stands in conflict with what you cannot control? Are you bound, trapped in helplessness so that you break? Look once more at me, and think, does she look trapped or free in the picture?
Meta Velander
Enclosed. Beautiful sharp eyes carve out grains that mark time. Deceptively, seeing a young woman’s will shine through eyes that bear such clear signs of experience and a long life. The meeting predicts my next step, questioned or scrutinized, it doesn’t matter. It’s some trick, I think. A game between them in the motif and me. It is magic, I know, that’s part of it, as usual, I want to figure out how it’s possible. What is it that I don’t see, but I give up, why not just go along and become part of her moment.
Carola Häggkvist
Like a storm, you stood there one early October day, shaking in the doorway, you said good day. An autumn day, if you wonder, the Swedish north wind’s pull. Fresh and clear, sometimes it harshly takes when the wind and gusts now and then dance with the leaves. But you and I want to, like long-lost dreams, linger. Summer is not over, we think, let us embrace, warmed by the sun’s energy. However, we understand that time is fleeting and has now passed, the point where autumn’s harsh tone once again promised to remain year to year, our song, and the day in rightful pace. Greet autumn now, be inspired by its image, hurry out, see where it leads, you and dreams take.
Carolina Gynning
Carolina in paradise, as in the painting by Kristian Zahrtmann, similar but a bit different. Surrounded in full bloom, open to play, the gate is wide open. She is ready to embrace the world. Comfortably reclining with a body sculpted by nature’s creative force, she radiates integrity and character. Safe, beautiful, and perfect, she is in her world of dreams, where every glance invites the exploration of the unknown, without excuses or adoration, she studies the effects of her presence, how the world around her is affected by her story, strength, and vision.
Vanessa Kamga
Steel beams are hard. Steel is a strong material. Bodies are soft but can be made strong, so strong that they can almost bear the same weight as steel. Today, we have many women who unnecessarily problematize their bodies. Pressure drives poor and harmful behavior. Strength often resides in our minds; a body is always beautiful if the person inside the body feels good. Harmony is the path to well-being, but it can be tricky and hard to find. But simply trying makes you both stronger and more beautiful.
Khadija Mohamud
Flower-speckled, embedded in a world of flowers. She radiates. She who has walked her own path. Now she is there, successful, confirmed, and celebrated. She has, of course, received support on her journey forward, mainly from others who think and want as she does, other women who have chosen to walk their own path. The habit of ruling and commanding has been inherited from her mother, who taught her how to take care of herself.
Carina Berg
Sea levels are expected to rise several meters, and coral reefs below will collapse. On the surface of the sea stands Venus in her seashell, born and bearing. According to ancient female wisdom, existence is cyclical, but there is chaos now, and fear spreads before the climate catastrophe. Only in the middle of the image is it still, a peace before life’s miracle. The love goddess’s hair dances in the wind, and isn’t there a light in the sky behind her?
Covid-19 Pandemic
According to the World Health Organization, by the end of October 2022, COVID-19 had affected over 620 million people, with more than 6.5 million reported deaths.
Astrid Badillo, 64 years old
Nursing assistant at PMI (Perioperative Medicine and Intensive Care), Karolinska University Hospital in Solna.
Julia Ståhl, 35 years old
Intensive care nurse at PMI (Perioperative Medicine and Intensive Care), Karolinska University Hospital in Solna.
Jessica Kåhlin, 47 years old
Specialist doctor in anesthesia and intensive care at PMI (Perioperative Medicine and Intensive Care), Karolinska University Hospital in Solna.
Honor those who deserve honor.
You are in hospitals, nursing homes, and elderly care. You who risk yourselves every day in ways that make us wonder. You are the true heroes we rely on. In days, weeks, months, you watch over, comfort, and care for us. You are the foundation that healthcare is built on. Thanks to you, the rest of us can continue living our lives more or less as before. Have we thanked you for that? Perhaps we haven’t yet fully realized or understood how well you do your job. Thank you for being there when we need you. When we feel worried, you light hope, you are talked about like few others. Did you know, when we see you, we whisper and say, there they are, the admired few.
Thank you for saving lives and taking care of us.
Mia Skäringer Lázár
Woman with a tiger, there is something about the composition of the picture that recalls the past. It is Renaissance-like. A time when kings and states fought for power. An era that depicted the inventions of the time and the eagerness of power to control nature. Nature was to be explored. The untamed were seen as God’s lost children who needed to be enlightened and integrated into societal order. Like here in the picture, the tattooed Woman who calmly strokes the wildest of all forces. Transcendence, an overstepping kinship and symbiosis between the magic of nature, her strength, and control. Bare, challenging the power’s terms. A threat in a world for those who must control nature as if it were dangerous otherwise.
Anna Lind
My letters to Anna have no address.
No postage, email, zip code, or SMS.
But I imagine a place that is warm and sunny.
Irrational – I know – but that’s what the worried one does.
It’s easier to think and kind of give you shape.
Send our thoughts and reveal everything.
Complain about the government, ask for good advice…
as if it would work – perhaps with a magical thread?
There’s a lot to say about world politics;
like tectonic plates, power and dynamics move.
And above us hover tangible threats:
climate crisis, war, and nuclear weapons – things we’ve fought against!
What guided you was an inner compass,
With a steady needle, well-directed and sharp,
That separated truth from lies, pretense from reality,
Which became credible in practice, though tough – we know…!
Your laugh echoes in my memory, the heels likewise,
And we remember the energy that was always there.
Now to your imaginary and bright resting place,
We send warm thoughts – it works if we take a leap!
Those who were your pride, your worry, and your all,
Are just as fine people who make up the earth’s salt.
Warm, wise sons who’ve chosen their own path,
You live on in them – isn’t it fantastic to say!
Watch over us, Anna – for times are tough,
You knew well that others’ fates are also ours.
That solidarity and equality are more than words on paper,
To implement them, you must be both smart and brave.
To your memory, for democracy and the earth’s well-being,
We gather today and long for the soul of politics,
Children, future hope, and human dignity,
The responsibility is ours, now we carry it!
Happy Jankell
The Skogsrå (Forest Spirit) has made her way to the half-overgrown tarn to drink at dusk. She exists between dreams and wakefulness, between god and devil, nature and unnatural, human and animal, body and soul, real and unreal. The fox follows in her tracks. The raven watches over her.
Harriet Andersson
That challenging trait in Simone de Beauvoir. As if it were possible to reach out. As if society could be changed. As if literature cannot be separated from the question of how. She did not agree to exclude beauty; her philosophy is literature. And one is never born a woman. One becomes one.
Katarina Wennstam
Purple, white, and green—the colors of the British suffragettes—symbolized justice, purity, and hope. While others gave speeches, Emmeline Pankhurst’s movement was not moderate or well-balanced. The suffragettes went on hunger strikes and wrote slogans with waterproof ink on the walls of parliament. They were mocked for being hysterical and unfeminine. They demanded their rights and won.
Helen Sjöholm
”Garbo speaks!” Headline of the largest American newspapers in 1930. The sound film paved the way for the first woman with a voice in an industry dominated by men with cult status, power, and money. As a pioneer, her voice and performances became an inconvenience and problem for the established order. Known for pressuring film studio bosses, she became the first in her profession to actually say ”It’s my way or the highway, honey,” outside of film.
Melinda Kinnaman
Serious eyes beneath bird wings, blood-red lips, a revolutionary feeling of life that was enough for all of Mexico. Diego Rivera considered his wife an artistic genius, and one must agree. Whether it was silk monkeys, still lifes with watermelons, or boundless suffering, Frida Kahlo painted it. Viva la vida.
Imenella Mohamed
The princess. The gaze caresses as the attitude convinces. She wears the crown confidently, unabashedly, without pretense or coquettishness. The feeling of ”I am beautiful and I want to shower you with my rays,” is not to please you or anyone else, but to tell you that the fairy tale is true, and I convince through my actions and words. If you want my respect, you must listen to my text. The text is about you and me. We do not have the same, we are not the same, we move on different planes, a part of something greater. Be open to thoughts and ideas, conversation is good. But one thing is clear, sisters, don’t listen to unreasonable demands.
Loulou LaMotte
It’s not a comfortable position there in the armchair, on the contrary, it feels somewhat impossible. The cool attitude. The authentic can be painful, years of training, practice, and repetitions have refined the technique. Unconcernedly, she stretches her high-heeled leg as a wave or a casual greeting to the rest of us. Entertainer, cabaret artist, or ladyboss. A determined attitude that unabashedly says, ”Look at me, my body, my control, and how beautiful I am.”
Mouna Esmaeilzadeh
Woman, Life, Freedom
In the fight against oppression and injustices. The women in Iran can no longer be silenced. On the streets and squares, they scream out their disgust, cut their hair, burn their veils. Their anger and courage are brutally suppressed by the regime’s obedient soldiers. In the media, we are flooded with the ruthless violence of horrific totalitarianism. Ordinary people who want to free themselves from systematic coercion are shot down. We have seen this many times before, how barbarism and dictatorship go hand in hand. The tools of the oppressors are always the same—violence meant to subjugate and dominate people’s right to their own freedom. The trash heaps of history will soon be filled with Iran’s antidemocrats and tyrants.
Tone Sekelius
The forest breathes quietly, take a deep breath, listen carefully to the wind’s whisper. Far away, across moss, stone, and the roots of fallen trees, the faintest tone of a simple melody is heard with the dawn. Squint now, and you will see something gently, cautiously, like marble. Sitting calmly on its stone. Shy as few, a scent caresses a wind. Don’t disturb her, take soft steps in the moss’s fringe where the sun’s rays caress. Between firs, pines, and branches, you can see the beings hidden in the depths and space of the forest. Do not frighten her, and you will meet her again one day.
Charlotte Kalla
The 1920s. The Roaring 20s, when the bobbed haircut became a symbol of women’s freedom as a reaction to the times, the fixation on updos or braided hairstyles. A decade when women gained the right to vote and created new opportunities. The era was also our first contact with ”social media.” With the breakthrough of film, widespread fame began to mark this new time. Lavish, outrageous festivities quickly created an image of a new modern society where anything was possible. An era of social mobility created new fortunes. Excess, parties, and intoxication would soon give way to depression and crisis. The 20s became the starting point for a politics based on a greater understanding of human conditions, the need for equality, social justice, and a more stable society for all.
Nanne Grönvall
Plupp, this fairytale character from the mid-50s who was neither male nor female. According to the author Inga Borg, she wanted to create a children’s book character that both girls and boys could identify with. The popular tales of Plupp were read over and over again. They weren’t in focus back then. This was a time long before we started pondering identities. Not entirely uncomplicated when something new is proposed, like a new pronoun. Plupp didn’t care, he/she was insightfully ahead of his/her time and now more relevant than ever.
Julia Dufvenius
Sweden’s scandalous princess Cecilia Vasa, born in 1540, was mocked, threatened, and hated for the place she took, both politically and in her untamed love life. In her pursuit of freedom, Cecilia Vasa was locked up, married off, abused, and even exiled from Sweden. In her time, she accomplished more than most: mother, politician, diplomat, ambassador, and privateer. After her husband’s death in 1575, Cecilia was left alone with her sons and all their debts. With her ships, she began to capture other vessels in the Baltic Sea. She lived to be 87.
Ann-Louise Hanson
She is determined, marked by many battles fought. Inevitably, roads cross as she moves forward, fearless and armed in a world that rarely spares the defeated. But loving and motherly to her own. She never backs down from threats, is not swayed by flattery, and is not afraid of the task of ruling and leading. Anyone who dares to stand in the way of her politics should be prepared to fight for their life. No one can, like her, breathe life into and inspire the men needed to help her achieve her goals.