The joker's shadow: unearthing a swedish courtier's hidden history

A forgotten figure from 18th-century Stockholm is finally demanding recognition. Badin, a Black child brought to the Swedish royal court as a ‘gift,’ spent decades navigating a treacherous world of privilege and prejudice, leaving behind a legacy shrouded in rumour and misrepresentation.

A life defined by deception?

Born into slavery around 1747 in St Croix – now part of the US Virgin Islands – Badin’s journey began with Christian Lebrecht von Pröck. He was then ‘donated’ to Queen Louisa Ulrika, a story that simultaneously elevates and obscures his status. He rose through the ranks, holding positions as a chamberlain, court secretary, ballet master, and civil servant – a remarkable ascent for someone of his origins.

Now, a landmark exhibition at the National Museum in Stockholm seeks to rewrite his story, moving beyond the sensationalized depictions that have dominated public perception for decades – from August Strindberg’s controversial play to a recent ballet, Gustavia. The exhibition, Badin – Beyond Surface and Mask, promises a comprehensive understanding of his life and his role within Swedish society.

Salad Hilowle’s film, Maroonen, offers a poignant glimpse into Badin’s world, utilizing his own words to paint a portrait of a man wrestling with his identity and the limitations imposed upon him. Hilowle states, ‘I’m always talking about how he [Badin] was an image and he was the other and now the other is also an artist.’

But the truth, as curator Åsa Bharathi Larsson points out, is complex. Badin occupied an ‘in-between’ position, enjoying a degree of freedom yet not belonging to the royal family. His background – a child of slavery – presented unique challenges, and his experiences likely differed significantly from those of other courtiers.

The Queen, influenced by the philosophies of Jean-Jacques Rousseau, fostered Badin’s education, encouraging his intellectual development and artistic pursuits. He learned to write, a skill highly unusual for a man of his background, and became involved in dance and theatre. This nurturing environment, however, couldn’t entirely erase the underlying realities of his existence.

Hilowle’s film incorporates opera, using a powerful scene where an opera singer delivers Badin's words, “I as one of the Blacks,” highlighting the painful resonance of this declaration. He describes the commission as 'a significant moment for Swedish art History. to give recognition to Badin, and also for myself as an African-Swedish artist.'

Despite the growing attention, Badin remains a largely overlooked figure. Between 1780 and 1820, only around 20 Africans lived in Sweden, and records are scarce. Badin stands out as a significant exception, yet his story continues to be filtered through biased narratives.

The exhibition’s goal isn’t simply to recount Badin’s life, but to challenge the prevalent image of him as a mere ‘joker,’ a trickster figure. Hilowle believes Badin’s assumed role was a survival mechanism, a way to conceal his true intelligence and avoid potential threats. ‘Meaning that he couldn’t manifest how well-educated he was because then he would be a threat to people and therefore he is playing the trickster,’ Hilowle explains. “But at the same time he writes his own diary.”

Ultimately, Badin – Beyond Surface and Mask aims to reveal the complexity of a man caught between worlds, a testament to resilience and a critical examination of Sweden’s colonial past. It's a story demanding to be heard, finally emerging from the shadows.