From most places in Europe, at least, Greece is a very accessible destination. A couple of hours on a plane (around four for the furthest countries) and you’re in Athens. Starting this month, there are even direct flights to some islands, such as Corfu and Crete.
June is an ideal month to visit: cool enough to wander about ancient sites, warm enough to swim. Still green, but with summer blossoms such as oleander and bougainvillea in full bloom. School’s not out yet, so it’s still pretty quiet and prices are lower than in the high season.
There are plenty of things to see and do in Athens itself, and there are many beautiful mainland sites worth a visit, such as the Meteora or Mycenae. However, one of the most fun things to do is catch a boat to an island.
Get a room by the beach.
Watch the sunset. Wispy clouds and lavender mountains.
Sit by an ancient olive tree.
Eat outdoors.
These pictures are from Thasos, a large, wooded island in the North Aegean. But with a couple of hundred inhabited islands to choose from, there’s something for every taste.
Having been invited to Amsterdam for the birthday of a dear friend, a group of us were lucky enough to visit a temporary exhibition at the Rijksmuseum entitled High Society.
The lovely Amsterdam architecture on one of the central canals
The exhibition features a collection of 35 full-length, life-size portraits of monarchs, aristocrats and rich citizens, by great masters in art history. It spans four centuries (from early 16th to the start of the 20th), and is styled as a party—featuring power, wealth, and massive egos. Because of the time and expense involved in painting such large canvases, this was a form of portraiture reserved for royal and noble subjects and, in later years, for what would now be known as ‘the one percent’.
It is also a timeless, fascinating, international fashion show, since people dressed in their best finery for the occasion. The paintings are full of symbols of the subjects’ wealth and power. Cloth of gold, lace, embroidery, large and intricate jewelry. There are also lots of accessories and plenty of dogs—lap dogs to show pampered luxury, fierce hunting dogs as symbols of strength.
See, above and below, how the painter Lucas Cranach (c.1472-1553) portrayed, for the first time in Northern Europe, a couple standing, life-size, and full length. They were Catherine of Mecklenburg (1487-1561) and Henri the Pious, Duke of Saxony (1473-1541), and the painting was commissioned in honor of their marriage in 1512.
He wears a wreath of red and white carnations to show he is a groom and, surprisingly, he’s neither clean-shaven nor bearded, but sports a very modern stubble.
Then there are Rembrandt’s wedding portraits of Marten Soolmans and Oopjen Coppit – his only life-size, standing, full-length portraits. Painted in 1634, they were a joint 2016 purchase by the Kingdom of the Netherlands and the Republic of France from the Rothschild collection, and they have just been restored. They are not as handsome as the previous couple, but their wedding black is accessorized with the most intricate lace collars and matching flower belt buckles.
Source: Google
It must be noted that, at the time, the wearing of black showed ostentation, not restraint: black was the most expensive material, had to be laboriously dyed and was difficult to upkeep. It was therefore a symbol of status which could, moreover, show off silver buckles and lacework to advantage.
The most powerful man of Europe, Charles V, Holy Roman Emperor, (1500-1558), had himself painted life-size by Jacob Seisenegger (1505-1567), showing just how important this type of portrait had become. Note the very wide shoulders, another symbol of strength, and the hunting dog.
An austere and powerful portrait, of Don Pedro di Barberana y Aparregui (1579-1649) by Velázquez (1599-1660). Don Pedro moved in powerful circles in 17th-century Spain, was comptroller of the royal treasury and sat on the King’s secret council. Note the plain background, contrasting with others that are richly decorated, and the tip of the sword lifting his coat at the back.
In a looser mode, the enchanting portraits, by Veronese, of Count Iseppo da Porto (c.1500-1580) with his son Leonida. The Count was one of the most influential figures in the town of Vicenza in the 16th century.
And that of his wife, Countess Livia da Porto Thiene, also descended from a noble family, and her daughter, Deidamia.
They are portrayed in ‘everyday’ clothes, which, although luxurious, are not too showy. It is rare these portraits can be seen together, since, sadly, his is in the Uffizi Gallery, while hers is in the Art Museum in Baltimore. A great shame, since being displayed next to each other greatly enhances the emotional import.
Moving on to more recent times, the portrait, by the English artist Gainsborough (1727-1788) of the beautiful Mary, Countess Howe dressed in what would have been the height of fashion in the mid-1700s. Her pale complexion is enhanced by the black ribbon on her wrist and her arsenal of expensive accessories also attest to her aristocratic status. Gainsborough only yearned to paint landscapes, but these would not earn him a living, so he was obliged to paint the local gentry, moving to another town with all his family in search of more clients, once he had finished one lot.
This portrait by John Singer Sargent (1856-1925) was a rare treat, as it is domiciled in Los Angeles, where women are said to swoon before it. It depicts the exceedingly handsome Dr. Samuel-Jean Pozzi (1846-1918), who was the founder of modern French gynaecology and an incorrigible womanizer. Sargent, an American artist who moved to Europe, appropriately painted him in a scarlet dressing gown and embroidered satin slippers. Pozzi was killed by one of his clients, a man whose impotence he had failed to cure. He nevertheless had a long and distinguished medical career, and consorted with many creative people, such as Sara Bernhardt, who was briefly his lover and remained a lifelong friend, and Marcel Proust.
Giovanni Baldini’s Marchesa Luisa Casati with a Greyhound (1908) catches its subject in what is, for Casati, a relatively understated outfit: she once wore a dress of lightbulbs wired up to a generator. She was once described as the Lady Gaga of her day.
The card next to the painting says: Six feet tall and thin as a rake, and with bleached skin, heavily made up eyes and hair dyed either a fiery red or emerald green, Luisa Casati’s appearance was unforgettable. At the many legendary parties thrown by the flamboyant and eccentric marchesa the champagne flowed freely and there was no shortage of cocaine and opium. Boldini painted Casati wearing haute couture and accompanied by her favourite greyhound with his characteristic, ‘slashing’ brushstrokes.
A last highlight was the portrait, by Kees van Dongen (1877-1968), of Anna, Comtesse de Noailles (1876-1933), a writer and leading figure of Parisian society. The portrait was considered shocking, if not offensive, at the time, because of the plunging neckline revealing a hint of nipple, and the fact that she irreverently wears the ribbon of the Legion d’Honneur (a great honor conferred by the state) as a choker around her neck.
It was a rare treat to see these portraits assembled in one place—and fascinating to compare the mores and fashion of each era. To finish, I wanted to share a video of the Museum’s wonderful Shylights, a light installation created, out of silk, by Studio Drift.
If you click on the video, it will magically right itself, for some mysterious reason.
I’m still working on my next post—but, meanwhile, I thought any foodies or cooks amongst you might be interested in this post on one of my favorite blogs, Evolving Life. Sampling the food of the Minoans—some of you may have read my post on the ancient Palace of Knossos in Crete.
Recently we were invited to attend a demonstration on Minoan Cuisine – appropriately held near the Palace of Knossos on the island of Crete. Jerolyn Morrison, a trained archaeologist and one of the creators of Minoan Tastes, reenacted cooking techniques from ancient times. Minoan Tastes organises cooking events for people to (as she prints on her card) “experience the flavors of the land, sea, and sky of ancient Crete”.
The cooking pots she uses are custom made on Crete, based on pot shapes and ceramic fabric found in archaeological contexts – including the iconic tripod cook pot of the Minoans.
Before cooking, the unglazed pots are prepped by soaking in water, and charcoal is heated to the white heat stage.
The pots are then surrounded with the hot charcoal and diligently monitored, adding more coals when required to sustain the long, slow cooking process.
On this day, I would like to celebrate springtime, with flowers as a symbol of peace. My wish is for an end to warmongering.
Below find the two parts of a floral diptych – it is still a work in progress, but it is my offering for May first.
Also I wanted to share the latest remake of Bob Dylan’s Masters of War – no comments added.
Some of you might remember a post about Japanese artist Yayoi Kusama (here for those who’ve missed it). This artist fascinates me both because of her work, which dislays a very original vision of life, and her history, about which I will say more later. I was therefore interested to come upon an article which described her relationship with another artist, Joseph Cornell, a man almost as strange as herself. Cornell, a reclusive who made the most exquisite collages and boxes, has also been an old favorite of mine, but I had no idea these two were connected in any way.
Kusama with Pumpkin, 2010Courtesy of Ota Fine Arts, Tokyo/ Singapore and Victoria Miro Gallery. Source: Google
Yayoi Kusama was born in Tokyo in 1929, the daughter of a horrendously abusive mother who used to tear up her paintings. She suffered from hallucinations since she was a child and, although these developed into the mental illness that led to her spending her life in an asylum, drawing upon these experiences also served as a basis for her art.
Nurturing a fierce determination to move to New York, Kusama wrote to Georgia O’Keefe and, having received a reply, showed up in the city with no money and little English. In the beginning she was beset by loneliness and poverty, but eventually she became involved in an artistic community which included Georgia O’Keefe, Donald Judd, Andy Warhol, Claes Oldenburg, and Eva Hesse. She became an advocate of free love in 1960 New York, leading nude happenings for which she was reviled as a national disgrace in her homeland.
She became renowned as painter, pop artist, cultural activist, and experimented in various mediums including sculpture, painting, collage, film, performance, happenings, fashion design, and publishing.
She gained recognition for her sexually charged public performances in Central Park protesting the Vietnam War, her large-scale infinity net paintings, psychedelic mirror room installations, and the ‘Narcissus Garden’ which was shown at the 1966 Venice Biennale.
Yayoi Kusama, Horse Play in Woodstock, a happening, 1967. Source:Google
Despite presiding over orgies, Kusama had a fear of sex, perhaps because she had suffered from her father’s philandering, and remained abstinent throughout her life. So it was that when she met Joseph Cornell, an odd-duck loner 26 years her senior, who lived with his domineering mother in Flushing, Queens, the two struck up an intense, albeit platonic relationship.
In the basement of his mother’s house, Cornell spent his days dreaming and making delicately detailed glass-covered boxes. These are small imagined worlds made up of found objects where a ping pong ball becomes the moon, or wooden animals and cutout birds are suspended over a landscape of newspaper clippings and little stamps. He often used star maps, small machine parts, pebbles and corks, along with text from old newspapers and magazines, to create collages. Into these he channeled all his longings and dreams of romance, vanished European cities, and travel to faraway places.
Habitat Group for a Shooting Gallery, 1943. Photograph: Mark Gulezian Source:Google
Cornell hated selling these precious objects, frequently changing galleries and dealers so that no one could gain too much control over his work. But he loved to give them away, especially to women. A deeply romantic man, he adored women but was crippled by physical reserve, accentuated by the behavior and influence of his jealous and possessive mother.
A Parrot for Juan Gris, 1953-54. Courtesy of Quicksilver/The Joseph and Robert Cornell Memorial Foundation/Vaga, NY/Dacs. Source:Google
Cornell became besotted by Kusama, flooding her mailbox with letters and personalized collages, and calling her on the phone constantly.
They became close, often spending time at Cornell’s mother’s home in Queens, passing the day sketching each other in the nude. Of course his mother deeply disapproved of this, and apparently once poured a bucket of water over them as they sat kissing beneath the backyard quince tree.
Yayoi Kusama with Joseph Cornell in New York, 1970 Courtesy Yayoi Kusama Studio, Inc. Source:Google
After some time Kusama took a step back, feeling the situation had got claustrophobic, but the two isolated, driven, visionary misfits remained close until his death in 1972.
Box by Joseph Cornell. Source:Google
Kusama was deeply affected by Cornell’s death. She returned to Japan, and in 1977 checked herself into the Seiwa Hospital for the Mentally Ill, where she eventually took up permanent residence. She has been living at the hospital ever since, going to work in her studio only a short distance away. Cornell’s influence did not end with his death, however, since he had given her boxes of magazine cuttings and other materials which she subsequently used to make a series of luminous collages. These feature elements of his style including surrealist cutouts, layered with her signature pattern of polka dots and infinity nets.
Yayoi Kusama “Self Portrait,” 1972. Source:Google
As I mentioned before, Kusama was also involved in publishing a number of works; and while I’m not about to pick up a book entitled ‘Love suicide at Sakuragazuka’, I remain entranced by her unique, delightful weirdness.
These days Yayoi Kusama is rarely seen without her trademark red wig and dotty clothing. Source:Google
Any Greeks still doubtful about climate change are becoming more convinced as yet another cloud of dust from the Sahara hits Greek skies.
Athens, known for the pure blue of its Attic sky, is covered in a yellow haze, and people are going around coughing or hiding their mouths behind handkerchiefs.
Source:Google
Things have been even worse in Crete, because its proximity to Africa means the dust is denser, turning the atmosphere bright orange.
Source:Google
We have always had this phenomenon when certain climatic conditions prevailed, but it would occur only occasionally. In the last few years it is becoming more common and happens several times per year. According to scientists, it will probably continue increasing with time, as climate warming becomes more intense.
The dust cloud is not toxic, but it is extremely unpleasant and can cause breathing problems in people suffering from lung conditions such as asthma.
This is what the sky should look like at this time of year!
When I wrote about the wonderful community of the Estia Agios Nikolaos, (click here if you missed it) the post became too long for me to include anything about the town of Galaxidi. In fact, this picturesque little town, with its fine natural port nestled in the gulf of Korinth, has a very interesting history.
Before Greece had acquired good roads, seaways were essential to trade, and, by 1775, the Galaxidi port, under the tolerant eye of Ali Pasha, the Ottoman ruler of Ioannina, was fourth in strength in Greece, with 60 large ship of a total tonnage of 10.000 and crews numbering 1.100 souls. The fleet operated on a system whereby each member of the crew owned part of the ship or its cargo – this fostered a spirit of active entrepreneurship, but also cultivated economy, frugality and common sense. The crews’ daily diet was dry bread, olives, salt fish and a little wine, and they were known for their endurance in adversity.
The captains of Galaxidi contributed greatly to the War of Independence of 1821 and, after liberation from the Ottoman Empire, the fleet was quickly rebuilt.
After 1840, there was a rapid rise in prosperity, with the shipowners of Galaxidi founding their own insurance companies, and shipyards which built around twenty vessels a year. In the 1870s, more than 350 sailing ships crisscrossed the Mediterranean, travelled to the Black Sea and as far away as the Atlantic.
Yachts are moored where the sailing ships used to be.
Sadly, by the end of the 19th century there came a steady decline , since the shipowners of Galaxidi insisted in staying true to their sailing vessels, and refused to covert to steam. They lost their competitive edge, and the town began to dwindle, while some families moved to Pireus. The coup de grace came with the German occupation.
Why did the traditional captains of Galaxidi fail to become modern cosmopolitan shipowners, like so many other Greeks did? It’s difficult to say. Maybe it was their insistence to cling to tradition, maybe it was their sense of independence which stopped them from forging the alliances needed to secure the necessary funds for converting the fleet. Be that as it may, their houses still stand as a reminder of their past glory. Neoclassical in style, they boast wonderful painted ceilings decorated by Italian artists the captains invited back with them, along with pieces of furniture and decorative objects bought on their voyages.
There’s a unique exhibition on at the moment at the Musée d’Art moderne de la Ville de Paris: it’s called ‘Urban Riders’, and it’s the work of Franco-Algerian artist Mohamed Bourouissa.
This is Bourouissa’s first solo exhibition in a French museum, although he has caught the critics’ eye many times before. In fact Bourouissa, who was born in Blida in 1979, is considered by many to be one of the major figures of his generation.
This particular project, which revolves around his film called ‘HorseDay’, was born when he became interested in the Fletcher Street community stables – based in the disadvantaged North Philadelphia neighbourhood of Strawberry Mansion – which he discovered thanks to the images of American photographer Martha Camarillo. Founded by African-American horsemen, the stables are a place of healing and support for local children and young adults and a refuge for abandoned horses (or horses destined for slaughter). Bourouissa addresses daily life at the stables, together with the myth and history of black cowboys and the conquest of wide open spaces, without, however, taking a documentary approach.
During an eight-month residency, he worked at making contact and sharing with the local community. As a result, the film offers a powerful account of an urban utopia.
For what Bourouissa called a ‘horse tuning’, riders teamed up with local artists to ‘customize’ their equine vehicles, lavishly outfitting them for a festive riding competition that serves as the climax to Horse Day. Below see some excerpts of the film (if the videos appear to be on their sides, just click on them, and for some mysterious reason they will right themselves).
Apart from the film, the exhibition presents many different items: on-the-spot sketches, preliminary drawings, storyboard, collages, ink roughs and watercolours which fill out the project’s origins and development; portraits of riders and of costumed horses and the actual costumes used on the day, as well as sculptural installations where images from the film are printed onto sections of car bodies.
Along with the seductive combination of horses and art, I do believe in the therapeutic effect of horses on the soul. So, after the exhibition, I was inspired to look up the site of the FletcherStreet Urban Riding Club, a place where local children (some from difficult backgrounds) can go to feel safe, empowered and free, even for a short while.
This is part of what’s on their page:
In the heart of downtown Philadelphia, among abandoned buildings and impoverishes neighborhoods where drugs and unemployment pervade, is a place called Fletcher Street. A block that upon first glance looks just like all the others, that is, until you see the horses and hear their hoof beats.
Horses? In the middle of the ghetto? Surprisingly, yes. They have been here for years, when the African American community thrived in Philadelphia, before drugs and unemployment steadily encompassed healthy neighborhoods and they disintegrated into urban war zones.
Despite it all, the horses have stayed, and they have because of the small, passionate, dedicated group of men determined to reclaim their neighborhood and their children. In this fight, they use the one thing that they know, love and trust, the horses.
Unsurprisingly, it hasn’t all been plain sailing for the non-profit organization. In 2008, clashes with animal-protection agencies led the city government (many say wrongly) to demolish the buildings that served as stables and a clubhouse on a patch of land called Fletcher Field. Despite this, the initiative survived thanks to the dedication of the horse enthusiasts. See it explained in the video below:
There is a similar setup of urban riding in Dublin, Ireland, I believe. There is fantastic work being done with horses and autistic kids, there is Riding for the Disabled, and there is a program for lifers working with mustangs in a prison in Nevada (and elsewhere, I think). All of this has to do with the restorative powers of nature and animals.
For any of you near Paris, the exhibition is on until April 22. Information about it here.
In Ancient Greek religion, Estia or Hestia (/ˈhɛstiə/; Greek: Ἑστία, “hearth” or “fireside”) is a virgin goddess of the hearth, architecture, and the right ordering of domesticity, the family, the home, and the state.
It was a difficult start to my road trip to the seaside town of Galaxidi. The rain poured down, washing out the view on all sides. A few bare branches were the only things visible as I tried to keep the car from aqua-planing on the turns. A two hour trip took a while longer but, as we emerged on the top of the mountains above Itea the sky cleared and a few rays of brilliant sunshine pierced the clouds.
The view towards Galaxidi
The charm of Galaxidi was restored, and so was my mood, over a cup of mountain tea taken at the hotel with some of the other visitors. We were all here for the annual cutting of the traditional vasilopitta at the Estia Agios Nikolaos, (https://www.estia-agios-nikolaos.org), a community where adults with special needs live, work and share their free time together with those caring for them. In this, Estia Agios Nikolaos is quite unique, and not only in Greece. It is also one of the few such communities worldwide which is not affiliated to one particular religious faith, and this inclusiveness is the main point of attraction for people all over the world who come to live and work here, making Estia a vibrant and exciting place.
Our b&b, the Hotel Nostos
Everyone had dinner together at a wonderful seaside taverna. I sat next to Clara (German, speaking fluent Greek) and Maxime (French, having just signed up for his second year, rapidly improving Greek), two vivacious and inspiring young people, who talked about their work with enthusiasm. Also present were numerous locals, such as the pharmacist who donates all meds for the community, and a lady who provides fish from her fish farm once a week. And, making a star appearance, was Estia’s first baby, Mia, born to a couple who work as carers – a source of endless fascination and delight for all.
Next morning, after a delicious breakfast of home-made delicacies and a walk in the port, we drove to Estia, where everyone was gathered in the assembly hall.
Music and songs. The man playing the trumpet is the Estia gardener.
The festivities started with a couple of songs (this video might look as if it’s facing sideways, but it will right itself once you click it. The mysteries of technology…)
Then the cutting and sharing of the vasilopitta.
We visited the ceramics shop, where colorful creations were on offer.
The wonderful vegetable garden,
complete with scarecrow,
and free-range chickens.
And finally one of the four residences, which in total cater for 45 people, of whom 22 have special needs (at the moment there is space for two more.) In ‘Estia Agios Nikolaos’ all the members live in small family structures, which comprise 6-9 special needs guests, 2 to 3 professional caregivers and 2 to 3 volunteers.
The entrance with its cats and box of fresh home-grown veggies.
A cozy living area
Complete with music corner
Fireplace
A large dining table for communal meals
A lovely kitchen
And a well-stocked larder.
We went on to visit another building which is used for various activities, fronted by a shady terrace for barbecues and ad hoc concerts. This doubles as the Kafeneion (café), a gathering place for Sunday coffee with the locals and evening parties.
A brand new kitchen, designed by an architect friend and donated by IKEA (the floor had been freshly washed), will be used for the new bakery and pastry workshop.
And there is a loom for weaving
Maren, who is German, is responsible for one of the houses and took us on tour, while explaining that the residents really look forward to their activities each morning after breakfast: either working in the garden or in the pottery and jewelry workshops.
The afternoons are devoted to music, exercising, walking, and in the summertime, swimming in the sea nearby. Besides the staff, there are professionals (most of them on a volunteering basis) providing specific therapeutical activities such as art therapy, physiotherapy, gymnastics and music therapy.
During the weekends, individuals can choose the activities they would like to participate in. There are various artistic and spiritual pursuits on offer, in connection to the local communities, such as outings to musical events, theater and cinema, church attendance and participation in local celebrations. Every Sunday late afternoon, the entire community gathers in the Kafeneion for cake, music and games, often hosting visitors from the local community.
Each new resident is taken in for a month’s trial, to see how well he or she will fit in. Most adapt well, some don’t. After the extensive mutual screening there is a mandatory period of at least one month when the potential resident returns to his/ her home so that each side, resident, family and the Estia team can calmly make up its mind. Sometimes parents find they miss their child too much, and prefer to keep them at home.
Residents join in on outings and trips whenever possible and have even been abroad, which I found impressive, due to the logistic problems needing to be solved.
The cornerstone principle of ‘Estia Agios Nikolaos’ is that “each person is unique and can be helped to develop his or her unique capabilities in a nurturing environment via creative work, artistic stimuli and direct interaction with nature.” Efforts are made to treat each person as an individual – the girl who made a friend in town goes for sleepovers to her house and is allowed to invite her in turn, those who don’t like to sleep after lunch are not made to have a siesta, and so on. Such an anthropocentric approach is quite revolutionary in what remains, in essence, an institution.
The view from the entrance
Giovanna Kampouri, the president of the foundation which supervises the organizers, explained the community’s vision:
“For our residents with special needs, Estia Agios Nikolaos is often their only family and home. Many of them do not have a family that can care for them, and very sadly, most will face the trauma of losing their parents. It is our mission to be able to provide them with a lifelong, stable and loving home. The biggest challenge will come when the first residents will age (in the case of those with Down Syndrome, with dementia). We are now starting to study what it will take to build our 5th home, with special facilities for this group. We need to solve many issues for this, in addition to money, and particularly Greek legal requirements and infrastructure.
On a day to day basis, in the middle of the crisis, Estia has not only survived but managed to thrive, thanks to the love and generosity of an ever widening circle of supporters in Greece and abroad. I believe that this is thanks to its message of inclusiveness, which is filling a growing need in all our societies (to balance the opposite trend of nationalism and xenophobia) We are thankful for this, as we need to continue and to expand our possibility to provide life-long care for our residents. Due to the crisis, the ability of many of our residents to compensate for the patchy payments by EOPYY(social security) been reduced, and we have been able to fully cover this and to even offer full ‘scholarships’ to new residents from every part of Greece.”
And of course, the work is never done. There are plans for acquiring more animals, such as bees and a donkey, building a wood-fired oven, planting olive trees.
I left feeling invigorated and inspired – some truly remarkable work is being done here. If you want to know more, and meet the principals of this story, watch the wonderful video made by Marianna Economou.
Letters from Athens 