Uppsala Cathedral. Sweden. 2023

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2023

Uppsala Cathedral.
Sweden

From ancient runestones to more classic examples of epitaphs for kings, scholars, and other notable figures of their time, this collection offers a glimpse into Sweden’s rich history.

Kicking off my Swedish series with the most Scandinavian of all — rune inscriptions from the 11th century, located near the Uppsala Cathedral in Sweden. These stones bear the craftsmanship of a master known as Öpir and were erected in memory of deceased relatives. While rune stones can be found throughout Sweden, Uppsala is home to an especially remarkable collection.

This inscription is from a gravestone set into the floor of Uppsala Cathedral, belonging to the renowned 18th-century Swedish naturalist Carl Linnaeus and his family.

What catches my eye is the remarkable, wide, and steady leg of the letter R. I also admire the perfectly flat base of the letter S — talk about steadiness! Interestingly, the serifs at the ends of the stems are almost non-existent here.

Otherwise, it’s a classic example of 18th-century lettering: high contrast, vertical stress, and spurs that look ready to prick their neighboring letters (just like in the L).

This is perhaps my favorite inscription in the entire cathedral — and also one of the oldest. It marks the tomb of the parents of Saint Bridget of Sweden and dates back to the 14th century.

Here, we see a stunning interpretation of decorative Lombardic capitals.

Did you notice the part where the letters seem to have been touched up — or perhaps even restored? On the first slide, the inscription ILIS MIL stands out, noticeably different in character and contrast from the rest of the lettering.

In the next post, I’ll share a cleaner, more modern version of these same letters, which can be found nearby.

And here is a modern interpretation of the letters from the previous post.

This inscription encircles a vessel containing a relic of Saint Bridget.
As described on the Swedish Church’s website:
“At the end of the 1980s, the cathedral received a very nice gift from the Birgitta sisters: a chip of Saint Birgitta’s hip bone. This relic has been given its place in this monument in memory of one of the most famous Swedes.”

What’s interesting about this inscription is that the tomb belongs to several generations of the same family, and the lettering was added at different times (17th–18th centuries). You can trace how the forms of the letters subtly evolved over time while maintaining a consistent overall style. This is most noticeable in the letters with flourishes.

Even more intriguing is the most recent inscription, dedicated to Laurentius Hydren and Regina Ljung. By this point, the style seems to have thrown elegance out the window — no embellishments, just the bare essentials to convey information and fit the text on the stone. A textbook example of the phrase ‘went downhill.’

In this inscription, the letter S definitely steals the show. Its character shines through, even despite the overall wear of the engraving (I’ve placed it in the 16th century, though I can’t be certain).

And let’s not overlook the 3!

What caught my attention most in this 18th-century inscription are the numerals — especially the striking, sweeping calligraphic 7.

As a type designer, I see numerals as the perfect place for experimentation, even in the most formal typefaces. Their construction follows a logic that’s different from letters, making them a playground for some explorations.

Here’s a more recent inscription — mid-20th century.

What a lively grotesque it is! The bouncing letters and shapes that adapt to their surroundings give it so much character. You’d never guess it’s a tombstone — it feels far too full of life.

Here’s another moderately “curly” inscription from the 17th century (the Baroque influence is hard to miss).

And, of course, it’s the numerals that stand out the most — beautiful, flaming, fluid, full of life and energy shapes.

This 18th-century inscription shows a clear continuity with the earlier ones I’ve shared. You can see it in the shapes of letters like R, E, M, U, and S. And that wide A? Simply stunning!

However, the forms here are more precise, carefully drawn, and defined. The numerals, in contrast to the other examples, feel much stricter and more restrained.

Here’s another inscription with the most stunning numerals — expressive yet wonderfully minimal at the same time.

The letters, on the other hand, feel quite calm. Though, I can’t help but notice the proportions between the upper and lower halves of characters like S, P, and R.

This 17th-century tombstone belongs to Laurentius Stigzelius, Archbishop of Uppsala.

It’s far from neat, but quite lively. As is often the case, the most fascinating part is watching the variations in the shapes of S and R.

I also love the distinction between the “headline” and “body” lettering, though the smaller text has mostly worn away over time.

16th-century inscription from the tomb of Swedish king Gustav Vasa, who was buried here alongside his three wives.

This particular text is dedicated to one of them – Catherine of Saxe-Lauenburg.

The composition is remarkably steady, dignified, and tightly spaced. The letters seem to flow seamlessly from one to the next. Their forms are quite classical, echoing the elegance of Roman capitals.

This 16th-century inscription is also from the tomb of Gustav Vasa, but it was added later – this time dedicated to the king himself.

The layout is still dense, but the letterforms are noticeably more compressed and have drifted much further from classical Roman capitals than the previous inscription on the same tomb.

To me, the sense of flow between the letters is gone, they no longer melt into one another but simply stand tightly side by side. The overall character has shifted quite a bit.

What we get in return, though, is a wealth of detail – plenty to explore if you take a closer look.

A short, simple, and elegant inscription from the late 16th century on the tomb of John III of Sweden. Not without a few memorable details, though.

The sculpture above it matches the tone: rather relaxed and reclining with quiet confidence.

The inscription on the tomb of Catherine Jagiellon, late 16th century.

Delicate, fluid, and refined.
Did you catch the reverse contrast in the H?

A 17th-century inscription on the tomb of Johannes Schefferus and his wife.

What caught my eye are the SS ligatures, and the dotted “I”s, each marked with a tiny triangle.
The overall look is quite delicate, almost monolinear in construction.

This article is a part of the Instagram project @lettersearch, curated by Yulia Gonina. Through her extensive travels, Yulia meticulously collects and categorizes historical inscriptions, offering insightful descriptions alongside stunning visuals. For the latest updates follow @lettersearch!