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Carita Jonsson sits at the dining room table and looks out into the garden. Two bailiffs burn in the dark, exhibited by her husband earlier. The estate is located on Vegagatan in Gothenburg, known for its functional architecture. Tiled facades. Big windows. Large balconies.
– The snow machine is the surprise of the night for children. I hope you like it, he says calmly.
There is a quarter of an hour left for the show, which always starts at 7 p.m.
In the yard, the children gather to play with the simulated snow.
Photo: Veroika Ljung Nielsen
The balcony shows started it This year’s first advent, then in front of a group of dog owners out in the yard. The idea was to perform just once, but an entertainment professional of the caliber of Carita Jonsson has a nose for when audiences want more.
– After the third concert I thought ‘No, now it’s a tradition’.
Neighbors call the show “help on the balcony,” and the buzz has spread through conversations on the stairs and in the laundry room.
In the farm playground, Elsa Kihlén is eight years old, along with some friends.
– Almost every night we go out to watch her play. It is very cozy. We can be a little together even if it’s a crown. With distance and so on.
The Carita Jonsson 19 concert has become a tradition for the neighbors.
Photo: Veroika Ljung Nielsen
Just before 7pm, people go out the doors. The thermoses are removed, the hot wine is poured. The gingerbread starts to sting and the cigarettes light up. Some are alone, but most of them are looking out onto the balcony, which has already started to flash pink, red, white, and green.
– This is absolutely fantastic, they can be together but still with distance, says Bengt Kristensson, who lives a couple of doors apart and who has been with since the first show.
On the balcony, the flare has been lit. Carita Jonsson comes out with her sparkling accordion and the Christmas classic “Christmas, Christmas radiant Christmas” takes off.
The show is called “Help the Balcony” and it has taken place every night since the first Advent of this year.
Photo: Veroika Ljung Nielsen
The tones flow over a silent courtyard and no human being moves. They know it’s over in an instant.
Marshals’ flames can flap peacefully when even most children are standing still.
When the notes die the window by the balcony is opened and the snow machine is started.
– Ho ho ho, what’s this for fun? Carita Jonsson yells in Santa’s voice and waves her arms to help the snowflakes gain momentum.
Adults stand up and spread comfort in groups. Mulled wine is not really drunk. The lonely begin to move home. Elsa Kihlén plays with her friends in the fictional snow.
Every minute the courtyard becomes emptier and emptier. Quarterbacks are allowed to stay and burn.
On Christmas Eve, Carita Jonsson’s Christmas carol will collide with Karl-Bertil Jonsson’s Christmas on television. “It just came to our attention then. You have to choose,” he says.
Photo: Veroika Ljung Nielsen
Inside the apartment it’s another successful concert finished. On the ground there is a blanket of fake snow and it becomes the worry of the night.
– I know my performance on Christmas Eve collides with Karl-Bertil Jonsson’s Christmas on TV at 19. But that’s it. You have to choose, says Carita Jonsson.
– What kind of song will it be on Christmas Eve? No one will know until 7pm
