Inktober 2019


Two years ago I wrote about Inktober, an Instagram challenge where people have to post a daily ink drawing. There is a list of daily prompts, which are in no way obligatory, and any ink medium goes: fountain pen, biro, brush, micro liner, dip pen. You can add watercolor, collage or anything else. There are no rules and no prizes – it’s a fun thing.

I have never yet managed to post something on all the days, and I’m only intermittently inspired by the prompts, but I always determine to take part, because I enjoy the whole camaraderie going on. It pushes me to experiment, and I always feel I’ll do better next year. At the end of the month I’ll share some of my masterpieces with you, but meanwhile, I would like to present some exceptional artists and illustrators, who mostly follow the prompts with humor and imagination. I’ve noted the particular prompt for each drawing.
So, without further delay, here are:
The incomparable Nina and her stripey men. Prompt: Enchanted.
Simon Curd whose small monsters come with a little poem each day. Prompt:Swing
Kate Richardson with more monsters, happy ones. Prompt: Swing
Monica Rathke at Whosebirthdayisit. Prompt: Husky
David Bülow at bulow_ink with his architectural perspectives. Prompt: Bait
And for something a little more gothic, Aleks Klepnev. No prompt. 

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Click on the URLs if you want to see more of each – definitely worth it, and a fun way to pass the time on a Sunday afternoon. There are many others to be found, some follow prompts and some not, but it’s always fascinating to see the different reactions people have to the same prompt.

More Gormley

The British sculptor Anthony Gormley seems to be everywhere these days. Sadly, I never managed to get to Delos to see his fantastic installation (for those who missed my post on this, you can find it here), because Delos is not easy to access. However, I took the opportunity to see his lovely exhibition at the Royal Academy  in London.

 

 

There were many of his ubiquitous depictions of the human body in various forms:

 

 

Some upside down

 

 

Walking on the ceiling.

 

 

But also some large and impressive installations:

 

Visitors were invited to walk through this one.

The one below looked like an alien vessel – an impressive 6 tons of steel rods suspended from the ceiling, dwarfing the people  beneath.

 

 

 

You could also walk through this next one, via the rectangular opening leading into a narrow steel tunnel, in almost total darkness – if you weren’t claustrophobic, that is.

 

 

But I mostly loved its architectural shapes, framed by the arched doorway.

 

 

 

Another installation featured a room flooded with Atlantic seawater on a bed of clay from Buckinghamshire. In general, the installations were  site-specific, fitting beautifully into the shape of each room.

 

 

Wall art included the work below, made with clay on a blanket, which had a fleeting, haunting aura.

 

 

The one below was not one of my favorites, but intriguing nonetheless, since it was made out of slices of bread dipped in wax:

 

 

 

Finally, for someone like me who loves works on paper, there was an abundance of treasures on offer, including a multitude of small spiral notebooks where Gormley recorded his ideas (these proved impossible to photograph, since they were presented in glass cases).

 

 

 

These drawings were made with charcoal and casein.

 

 

Deceptively simple,

 

 

But very evocative.

 

 

And there was a whole, luminous series made with earth mixed with linseed oil.

 

 

I came away most inspired.

 

 

Highly recommended, if you’re anywhere nearby.

 

Revisiting a sunken village

Forty years ago, the inhabitants of Kallio, a stone-built village in Fokis, saw their houses slowly disappear underwater. In 1981, a dam was built in the Mornos River in order to create an artificial lake that would supply Athens with drinking water. The villagers were given no choice: their village was expropriated, and they could only watch silently while the river water flooded their gardens, while the church sank, while the last chimney vanished. The were forced to relocate elsewhere; but they didn’t forget.

Now 27 year old Athenian visual artist Sotiris Tsiganos and his colleague Jonian Bisai have made a short film, NEROMANNA, in memory of the drowned village and the dispersal of its community. They filmed the ghost village underwater, and collected testimonies from its former inhabitants, whom they managed to locate by scouring Greece. “Our village was beautiful”, says an elderly lady, speaking in old fashioned Greek. “It had springs, cold clear waters. We couldn’t believe it when they told us we had to leave. We took the icons from the church, we had to pack everything up and go. We lost our homes.” They also lost each other, as neighbors and friends dispersed to different places.
A lot of the antiquities found locally were also dispersed, some to the museum in Lidoriki, some remaining at the bottom of the lake.
Since that day, this lake has been the main source of water of the Greek capital.

 

 

In 1993, a drought shrank the waters of the artificial lake, and part of the ruins emerged. Some of the villagers, who had gathered to see this sight, compared the occasion to a memorial service. It just made everyone sad. “Better not to have seen,” mused one old man. Then the houses sank back under the waters, and only memories remained.

 

 

 

The film was shown at the Athens Biennale 2017, as part of the whole project, Latent Community, whose aim was to present the history of Kallio and to briefly reconstitute its lost community. The filmmakers invited the villagers to a feast, so that they could meet up and tell their stories, thus creating an environment of narratives based on the community’s experiences. A public archive of documents and records, much of which had been provided by the village residents themselves, was also presented.

The two artists described their visual arts research project as having been very emotional, because while doing it they realized that the sacrifice made by these people had never been properly acknowledged. They had become refugees, they had lost their community, and some who could not adapt to the new situation had died. Some of the inhabitants still believe that when they die, they will all go back there to be together again.

The hauntingly beautiful photo below is by photographer danos kounenis (Trek Earth)

I first came upon this story in an article in the newspaper  Kathimerini

And here is the link to the film NEROMANNA / http://vimeo.com/latentcommunityproject

Athens Anniversary

Exactly 185 years ago today, Athens was proclaimed the capital of Greece. I found this very interesting article by Greek journalist Philip Chrysopoulos in the GREEK REPORTER. As it was possible to reblog onto Twitter, Facebook and Pinterest, but not to WP, I copied it verbatim, including the photos.

 

September 18, 1834: Athens Becomes the Capital of Greece
By Philip Chrysopoulos -Sep 18, 2018

 

When Athens was officially declared the capital of the newly established Greek State on September 18, 1834, it was a small village of 7,000 residents living around the Acropolis Hill.

Following the assassination of Governor Ioannis Kapodistrias in the Peloponnesian city in 1831, Greece’s first politicians had to decide where the new government and first parliament would be established. At the time, Athens was an area of ancient, Byzantine and medieval ruins with makeshift houses around them, all around the Acropolis Hill.

The decision was far from easy. Personalities of the time, politicians, as well as architects and city planners took part in the debate, trying to influence developments and the final decision. The cities proposed were, among others, Corinth, Megara, Piraeus, Argos, as well as Nafplio again.

Eventually, Athens won the race and in September 18, 1834 it was officially proclaimed “Royal Seat and Capital”. The main reason was the city’s glorious history as the cradle of Hellenic Civilization. According to historians King of Bavaria Ludwig I was influential to the decision as he was a great admirer of ancient Greece.

Athens circa 1890

However, the city was not prepared to carry the weight of the capital of the new state. It was more of a town than a city, with 7,000 residents and 170 regular houses, as the remaining Athenians were living in huts. Furthermore, the battles that took place in Athens had left many ruins. By comparison, at the time, the population of Patras amounted to 15,000 thousand, while Thessaloniki had 60,000.

Athens stretched around the Acropolis (from Psiri to Makrygianni), having as its center the area of ​​Plaka (the Old Town). One of the major problems of the new capital was the lack of a water supply system, as well as the absence of public lighting and transport, while there was a complete lack of social services.

Greece’s first king, Otto of Bavaria, commissioned the reconstruction of the devastated city to Greek architect Stamatis Kleanthis and the Bavarian Leo von Klenze with a strict order not to damage the archaeological sites. For the protection of antiquities, Otto issued a decree prohibiting the construction of limestone at a distance of 2,500 meters from ancient Greek ruins, so that antiquities could not be damaged.

Within four years, about 1,000 houses were built in Athens, many of them makeshift, with no architectural or street plan. Otto banned quarrying in the hills of Nymphs, Achanthos (Strefi), Philopappou and Lycabettus and issued decrees with the strict order to immediately demolish every house built near archaeological sites and everything built on the outskirts of the Acropolis Hill.

The strict measures regarding building houses made Otto lose his popularity with the poor masses, but he insisted on issuing other decrees.

In the years to come, Athens became the pole of attraction for Greeks, who arrived in the capital from all parts of the country. In 1896, Greece hosted the first modern Olympic Games. By that time, the picture of the capital was radically changed. It had expanded and now was a city of 140,000 residents with great buildings and important archeological sites, and the commercial and cultural intellectual center of the country. A true capital.

Autumn Light

 

I’ve been too busy to write much lately (only one post in August—shame on me!) and the news this summer has been depressing again, with multiple forest fires and droves of immigrants arriving on the islands. However, the change in government has brought a measure of optimism to the country. The general consensus seems to be that they are at least trying hard to make a difference, and the reaction to events is faster and more organized. So fingers crossed.

 

 

Also, the last few days have been like a mini holiday where I’m taking the opportunity to enjoy the end of the summer. It’s a lovely time of the year, still warm but with a breeze and a hint of chill in the evenings. The light is mellow, the sea is silky and the sun does not scorch.

 

 

This is Schoinias Beach near Athens. Children went back to school yesterday, so it’s nearly empty.

 

 

The beach is edged by these wonderful pine trees called koukounaries

 

 

Beyond the sea, lavender colored mountains.

 

 

Elsewhere, tree branches are bowing under the weight of ripening olives,

 

 

And pistachios.

 

 

 

A magical time of the year in Greece.

 

 

A strange pet

Octopus makes a frequent appearance on the menu in a Greek diet, either simply boiled and served with vinegar, or grilled over charcoal. It’s offered in fish tavernas as part of the starters, and tentacles hanging on a line to dry in the sun can be seen in seaside villages and on the islands. It is delicious. 

My taste for it, however, was somewhat diminished after watching a fascinating documentary called An Octopus in my House. Marine biologist Professor Scheel of Anchorage, Alaska, finding himself with an empty living room after his ex had absconded with most of the furniture, brings in a huge saltwater tank into which he installs a large blue octopus, which is treated as a pet by him and his 16-year-old daughter, Lauren. They proceed to observe its behavior and, basically, make friends with it.

 

 

 

The film does not try to be strictly scientific, although it is interspersed with footage from studies of octopuses in Sidney and Indonesia. It marvels at the amazing properties of an astonishing animal, which has three hearts, blue blood and no skeleton. Heidi, as Scheel and his daughter name their pet because she spends the first few days hiding in her den, soon joins in the fun and seems to enjoy their company, glueing herself to the glass wall of her tank while they watch television, wrapping her tentacles round Lauren’s hands and sending sprays of water up her sleeves, as well as playing with various objects they introduce her to, such as the LEGO house below. Being a day octopus means she is active in the daytime, and she entertains her hosts with dramatic shifts of form, color and even texture. Watching her change colors while she sleeps, they even guess she might be dreaming.

 

 

I watched the film with two 12-year-old boys who  found it as riveting as I did (it also made a change from anime!). One question, however, was not addressed in the film: how they cleaned the tank, which always looked pristine, with crystal clear water. Also they never seemed to worry about being bitten, although octopuses are fearsome predators with venomous beaks. 

Should you come upon this BBC Two documentary, I highly recommend it. Here is a taste below. 

 

Archaeological detective work

While some people’s job is to look for burglars or murderers, forensic archaeologists Christos Tsirogiannis spends his time searching for looted antiquities.
He has identified 1,100 such artefacts in 13 years, and accuses the major auction houses, such as Christie’s, Sotheby’s or Bonham’s, of failing to properly check the provenance of antiquities in their catalogues. He asserts that they don’t take the necessary steps in due diligence by contacting the authorities before buying or selling antiquities.
Of course, the auction houses deny this, and insist they do work with authorities in order to establish due diligence, but that they don’t have access to the databases of seized objects, something which Tsirogiannis contests.

 

Photo: Google

 

Be that as it may, Bonham’s has recently withdrawn an ancient Greek drinking vessel from sale amid accusations that it was illegally excavated. Tsirogiannis alerted Interpol after producing evidence linking the Bonhams antiquity to convicted traffickers in stolen artefacts. He recognised lot 95, an ­ancient Greek vessel from 375-350 BC, in Bonhams’ catalogue for its July 3 ­antiquities auction at its flagship London salesroom. The 8in-high Apulian red-figure kantharos or drinking cup was estimated to fetch ­between £20,000 and £30,000.
Dr Tsirogiannis has access to images confiscated in police raids and he found a picture of the vessel, still with soil on it, in ­archives seized from ­Gianfranco Becchina, convicted in Italy and Greece of illegally dealing in antiquities.

 

Example of kantharos vase. Photo:Google

 

Cambridge-based Tsirogiannis also works for the Scottish Centre for Crime and Justice Research at the University of Glasgow. He is determined to draw public attention to the irreparable damage done by looters of antiquities from archaeological sites.
Christos studied archaeology and history of art at the University of Athens, and received his Ph.D. from the University of Cambridge, on the international illicit antiquities network.
He has worked for the Greek Ministries of Culture and Justice, excavating throughout Greece and recording antiquities in private hands, and has voluntarily cooperated with the Greek police Art Squad. He was also a member of the Greek Task Force Team that repatriated looted, smuggled and stolen antiquities from the Getty Museum, the Shelby White/Leon Levy collection, the Jean-David Cahn AG galleries, and others. In 2013, he won the annual Award for Art Protection and Security from the Association for Research into Crimes against Art.

Tsirogiannis believes that to loot and trade in stolen goods is a crime against humanity, because it is the cause of a major catastrophe: the irreparable loss of knowledge about our past. He has built a secret archive of tens of thousands of photos from the antiquities underground traffic, where illicitly dug artefacts pass from tomb raiders to smugglers to dealers and then on to museums, collectors, and auction houses. He has been given most of his images from prosecutors in Greece and Italy who have obtained them from police raids; he matches the photos with objects that surface at auctions or museums and then works to repatriate the pieces.

 

 

Tsirogiannis is somewhat of a thorn in the side of auction houses, but his work has forced them, and other dealers, take due diligence much more seriously. Nevertheless, the auction houses contend that the industry’s due diligence would benefit if the archives, which are technically owned by the Greek and Italian states, were to be made public, which so far they have declined to do. As for Tsirogiannis, he says that publishing the records could alert bad actors and push the market for illicit antiquities further underground.