My photograph of ‘The Incarnation’ by Eleftheria Syrianoglou, a ‘table icon’ in a recent exhibition in Rethymnon, features on the front cover of the Christmas 2013 edition of Koinonia
Patrick Comerford
Patrick Comerford has been visiting a major exhibition in Crete that shows the tradition of icon painting is alive and creatively vibrant on the Greek island
The Incarnation by Eleftheria Syrianoglou, who exhibited a number of “table icons” worked in on various shapes of olive wood (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
There is an old proverb in Crete that says: “Chania for weapons, Rethymnon for letters, Iraklion for wine.”
These three ancient cities, with their mixtures of Byzantine, Venetian and Ottoman heritage, are strung along the northern coast of this most southerly of Greek islands. Culturally, Iraklion is the city that has produced great writers such as Nikos Kazantazkis, author of Zorba the Greek, and a school of great icon painters, whose masters include Mikhail Damaskinos (ca 1530/35-1592/93) and Domenikos Theotokopoulos (1541-1614), known to the West as El Greco.
Iraklion’s Museum of Religious Art is housed in Agia Aikaterini Museum, beside the Cathedral of Saint Minas. The church once belonged to the Monastery of Saint Catherine on Mount Sinai and now serves as a museum for the Orthodox Archdiocese of Crete, with outstanding icons that include works by Damaskinos.
But there is a real germ of truth in that Cretan aphorism, for Rethymnon is truly at the heart of cultural life in Crete. The small city, with its walled old town, celebrates its cultural heritage with an annual Renaissance Festival, which has now been established for over a quarter century – for as long as I have known this charming city with its narrow streets and rich architectural heritage.
For the past two years, we have stayed in an hotel in a converted old Venetian mansion, behind the library and close to many of the town’s great Byzantine and Venetian churches, with their interiors decorated richly with traditional icons and frescoes.
The Icon Exhibition in the Artillery Hall in the Fortezza is part of the 26th Renaissance Festival of Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
This year, we visited an exhibition of icons that was staged as part of the 26th Renaissance Festival of Rethymnon in the Artillery Hall, close to the entrance to the old Fortezza, which looms above the old town. This was the second year an exhibition like this had been organised as part of the festival.
About 30 icon writers or painters took part in this year’s exhibition. Some of them are well-known in Greece, but at least three remained anonymous, exhibiting simply in one case as a member of the Holy Monastery of the Transfiguration, with three icons in the exhibition, and in another case as two members of the community of nuns at the Holy Monastery of Saint Irene.
George and Christopher Karaviotis, who exhibited ten icons, gave each other equal credit for their works. There was also once icon on loan from the Byzantine Art Centre in Rethymnon, which stands in an old Venetian/Ottoman mansion in the old town, close to our hotel.
Many of the icon writers or painters in this year’s exhibition were neither priests nor monks, and there were some woman among the exhibitors, including Eleftheria Syrianoglou, who exhibited a number of “table icons” worked in on various shapes of olive wood.
The Congregation of All Angels, by a nun from the Monastery of Agia Irini (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Emmanuel Nikolidakis, who had three icons in the exhibition – including one of the Holy Four Martyrs of Rethymnon – works on glass, and then frames them against a red background so they can be seen distinctly.
George Christides had three large modern interpretations of traditional themes: the Lamentation at the Burial of Christ, the Annunciation, and the Angel of the Apocalypse.
Our Lady of the Angels by Alexandra Kaouki, who works close to the Fortezza in her workshop on Melissionou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Alexandra Kaouki, who works on modern, bright and vibrant icons and frescoes that are true to the tradition and inherited styles, drew particular acclaim for her three exhibits: Our Lady of the Angels, Christ Pantokrator and Our Lady of the Way.
There were new interpretation of the images from Fayum, which tell us a lot about the early development of icon painting, an amusing image of the “Sea gives up its Dead” ... although the artist was not listed in the catalogue.
Modern icons on sale in the shop in the Fortezza (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
This was an exciting collection of works seeking to maintain, develop and reinterpret a tradition religious art form. The exhibition was sponsored by the Ecumenical Patriarchate, the Diocese of Rethymnon and the Municipality of Rethymnon.
Last year’s exhibition in 2012 was visited by the Ecumenical Patriarch, Patriarch Bartholomeos, and the Metropolitan or Bishop of Rethymnon, Metropolitan Evgenios, who at the time voiced their hope that this exhibition would become an annual event.
Later in the week, I visited Alexandra Kaouki’s workshop on Melissionou Street in the narrow streets and alleyways below the Fortezza. She works away at her easel, unperturbed and undisturbed by the casual visitors and the curious tourists who walk in off the street, often unaware of the rich heritage they are being invited to experience.
She is one of the many icon writers who work in store-front studios and workshops throughout Rethymnon. It was in one of these workshops that I first bought an original icon from Andreas Theodorakis 25 years ago.
These icon writers are expressing theology in art, but their open workshops and their exhibitions are also an engaging form of mission, offering the essential story of salvation to tourists and holidaymakers who are invited to experience the Living Word in a way that is paradoxically both ancient and modern.
This paper and these photographs were published in Koinonia, vol 7 No 24 (December 2013), Kansas Missouri, pp 20-21
Showing posts with label Greece 2013. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greece 2013. Show all posts
26 December 2013
28 October 2013
A laconic and direct ‘No’ for
the cause of Greek liberty
The Greek flag flying over the Acropolis in Athens (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Patrick Comerford
Today is celebrated by Greek communities throughout the world as Ohi Day (Επέτειος του «'Οχι»).
This celebration on 28 October each year commemorates the final ‘No’ delivered by the Greek Prime Minister, Ioannis Metaxas, on 28 October 1940 when he rejected the ultimatum delivered Italy’s fascist dictator Benito Mussolini.
The ultimatum was presented at dawn by the Italian ambassador in Athens, Emanuele Grazzi, demanding Greece allow Axis forces to enter Greece and occupy “strategic locations” or face war.
It is popularly believed the ultimatum was met with a single laconic word: όχι (No!). However, the truth is his actual reply was: “Then it is war.”
In response, Italian troops based in Albania attacked Greece at 5.30 am, drawing Greece into World War II.
On the morning of 28 October, the Greek population took to the streets in masses, chanting «'Οχι». And so, since 1942, today has been celebrated as Ohi Day by Greek communities around the world.
Ohi Day was celebrated in Dublin with live Greek music and dancing on Saturday night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The Greek anthem is based on the Hymn to the Freedom (Ὕμνος εἰς τὴν Ἐλευθερίαν), a lengthy, 158-stanza poem inspired by the Greek Revolution of 1821and written in 1824 by Dionysios Solomos, a poet from the island of Zakynthos, when he was only 25. He wrote the poem in a single month, May 1823, in Zakynthos in the home of his friend Loudovikos Stranis.
In1828, the composer Nicolaos Mantzaros from Corfu set the Hymn by Solomos to music. He composed two choral versions – a long one for the whole poem and a short one for the first two stanzas. His 6/4 tempo is reminiscent of the Tsamiko, a traditional Greek men’s dance.
Although King Othon decorated both poet and composer in the 1840s, he retained his Royal Anthem, which was of German origin and praised King Othon and his Germanic dynasty. However, when Othon’s Dynasty was overthrown, the new King George I adopted the Hymn to the Freedom as a new patriotic anthem on 1864.
The anthem has been performed at every closing ceremony in the Olympic Games as a tribute to Greece as the birthplace of Olympics.
Fluttering for Liberty … the Greek flag flying above the Fortezza in Rethymnon, Crete, earlier last month (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The Liberty or Ελευθεριά (Eleftheria) of the anthem is female, and this is also a popular female name in Greece. But this Eleftheria is not as erotic and earthly as the Liberty of Delacroix. Instead she is more like an exiled ancient goddess, identified by Solomos with Greece itself.
In his hymn, the poet recalls the history of the Greek Revolution, and describes the pains and sacrifices of the rebels, criticises their dissensions, and calls for unity for the sake of Eleftheria.
However, the Greek anthem runs to only the first two of the 158 stanzas in the Hymn to Freedom. All 158 stanzas would make it the longest national anthem.
On this day, Greeks must be wondering who will say a strong and singular No to the forces of fascism in Golden Dawn that are bringing Greece to the precipice of violence? And who for the sake of Liberty will voice a strong and singular No to German and international fiscal demands that are bringing Greeks to the brink of defeat once again?
Σε γνωρίζω από την κόψη
Του σπαθιού την τρομερή,
Σε γνωρίζω από την όψη
Που με βιά μετράει τη γη.
Απ’ τα κόκκαλα βγαλμένη
Των Ελλήνων τα ιερά
Και σαν πρώτα ανδρειωμένη
Χαίρε, ω χαίρε Ελευθεριά!
Και σαν πρώτα ανδρειωμένη
Χαίρε, ω χαίρε Ελευθεριά!
Και σαν πρώτα ανδρειωμένη
Χαίρε, ω χαίρε Ελευθεριά!
I shall always recognise you
by the dreadful sword you hold
as the Earth with searching vision
you survey with spirit bold.
From the Greeks of old whose dying
brought to life and spirit free
now with ancient valour rising
let us hail you, oh Liberty!
Patrick Comerford
Today is celebrated by Greek communities throughout the world as Ohi Day (Επέτειος του «'Οχι»).
This celebration on 28 October each year commemorates the final ‘No’ delivered by the Greek Prime Minister, Ioannis Metaxas, on 28 October 1940 when he rejected the ultimatum delivered Italy’s fascist dictator Benito Mussolini.
The ultimatum was presented at dawn by the Italian ambassador in Athens, Emanuele Grazzi, demanding Greece allow Axis forces to enter Greece and occupy “strategic locations” or face war.
It is popularly believed the ultimatum was met with a single laconic word: όχι (No!). However, the truth is his actual reply was: “Then it is war.”
In response, Italian troops based in Albania attacked Greece at 5.30 am, drawing Greece into World War II.
On the morning of 28 October, the Greek population took to the streets in masses, chanting «'Οχι». And so, since 1942, today has been celebrated as Ohi Day by Greek communities around the world.
Ohi Day was celebrated in Dublin with live Greek music and dancing on Saturday night (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The Greek anthem is based on the Hymn to the Freedom (Ὕμνος εἰς τὴν Ἐλευθερίαν), a lengthy, 158-stanza poem inspired by the Greek Revolution of 1821and written in 1824 by Dionysios Solomos, a poet from the island of Zakynthos, when he was only 25. He wrote the poem in a single month, May 1823, in Zakynthos in the home of his friend Loudovikos Stranis.
In1828, the composer Nicolaos Mantzaros from Corfu set the Hymn by Solomos to music. He composed two choral versions – a long one for the whole poem and a short one for the first two stanzas. His 6/4 tempo is reminiscent of the Tsamiko, a traditional Greek men’s dance.
Although King Othon decorated both poet and composer in the 1840s, he retained his Royal Anthem, which was of German origin and praised King Othon and his Germanic dynasty. However, when Othon’s Dynasty was overthrown, the new King George I adopted the Hymn to the Freedom as a new patriotic anthem on 1864.
The anthem has been performed at every closing ceremony in the Olympic Games as a tribute to Greece as the birthplace of Olympics.
Fluttering for Liberty … the Greek flag flying above the Fortezza in Rethymnon, Crete, earlier last month (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The Liberty or Ελευθεριά (Eleftheria) of the anthem is female, and this is also a popular female name in Greece. But this Eleftheria is not as erotic and earthly as the Liberty of Delacroix. Instead she is more like an exiled ancient goddess, identified by Solomos with Greece itself.
In his hymn, the poet recalls the history of the Greek Revolution, and describes the pains and sacrifices of the rebels, criticises their dissensions, and calls for unity for the sake of Eleftheria.
However, the Greek anthem runs to only the first two of the 158 stanzas in the Hymn to Freedom. All 158 stanzas would make it the longest national anthem.
On this day, Greeks must be wondering who will say a strong and singular No to the forces of fascism in Golden Dawn that are bringing Greece to the precipice of violence? And who for the sake of Liberty will voice a strong and singular No to German and international fiscal demands that are bringing Greeks to the brink of defeat once again?
Σε γνωρίζω από την κόψη
Του σπαθιού την τρομερή,
Σε γνωρίζω από την όψη
Που με βιά μετράει τη γη.
Απ’ τα κόκκαλα βγαλμένη
Των Ελλήνων τα ιερά
Και σαν πρώτα ανδρειωμένη
Χαίρε, ω χαίρε Ελευθεριά!
Και σαν πρώτα ανδρειωμένη
Χαίρε, ω χαίρε Ελευθεριά!
Και σαν πρώτα ανδρειωμένη
Χαίρε, ω χαίρε Ελευθεριά!
I shall always recognise you
by the dreadful sword you hold
as the Earth with searching vision
you survey with spirit bold.
From the Greeks of old whose dying
brought to life and spirit free
now with ancient valour rising
let us hail you, oh Liberty!
04 October 2013
The pleasure of being part of
Greek journalism for a day
‘The kiosk. / Standing on its feet all day/ with its small-stock melancholy, / dressed / in its afternoon papers’ (Kiki Dimoula) ... afternoon newspapers on sale at a kiosk in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
Greece is a wonderful newspaper-reading society. Every island, town and city seems to have its own newspaper, many of them daily newspapers. Iraklion in Crete has at least three daily newspapers. When I am in Greece I enjoy reading local and national newspapers – in Greek and in England.
Greek journalists work under trying and dangerous conditions. They are often targeted by police when they are covering demonstrations and many have received threats from the extreme right, the ultra left and anarchists.
Most Greeks buy their favourite daily newspapers in the afternoon at their local períptero (περίπτερος) or kiosk – a part of everyday life in Greece and an essential element of the streetscape of every Greek city and town.
For many years, my source of English-language news in Greece was The Athens News. This was once Greece’s oldest and only English-language newspaper. The Athens News was founded in 1952 by Yannis Horn, and for 60 years it was Greece’s best-known English-language newspaper until its sad demise last year [2012].
The readers of The Athens News included diplomats, journalists, and members of Greece’s English-speaking and foreign community who relied on the newspaper to keep abreast of domestic and international events. The Athens News was also essential reading by Greek politicians, civil servants and businessmen as well as Greeks abroad.
After 49 years as a daily newspaper, The Athens News became a weekly newspaper on 16 March 2001. But it remained essential reading for many English-speaking people in Greece, and it was a pleasure to be a guest contributor to The Athens News, reviewing the exhibition Byzantium 330-1453 at the Royal Academy of Arts in London in early 2009.
However, with the collapse of the Greek economy and increasing competition, The Athens News fell on hard times, and its last printed issue was published a year ago on 5 October 2012.
There were lingering hopes that the newspaper might find a new investor who would rescue the title. But the website was finally taken down in March 2013.
Some of the former journalists with The Athens News have faithfully maintained the Facebook page, others have been involved in setting up a new English-language newspaper, Athens Views, which hit the newsstands and the kiosks or periptera across Greece two months ago on 2 August.
Athens Views is an independent weekly newspaper offering in-depth analysis of current affairs, politics, the economy, the arts and life in Greece, and is supported by an excellent Facebook page.
Meanwhile, Greece’s leading conservative political and financial daily newspaper, Kathimerini (Η Καθημερινή, ‘The Daily), continues to publish an abridged daily English-language supplement that is part of the editions of the International Herald Tribune sold in Greece and Cyprus.
Kathimerini, which dates back to 1919, was created by Georgios Vlahos and was then owned by his daughter, Eleni Vlahou, and her husband, Constantine Loundras. Eleni Vlahou, who was revered as the Grande Dame of Greek journalism, sold the title shortly before her death, and Kathimerini has been owned by Aristidis Alafouzos since 1988.
EnetEnglish ... an online news service from Eleftherotypia
An exciting development, with immense potential in recent months is EnetEnglish, an independent, online news service focused on Greece. This online service was launched six months ago [20 February 2013] and is backed up by a Facebook page that gives access to the main website and can also be followed on Twitter.
EnetEnglish is dedicated to serving an international readership, in Greece and around the world, with timely, unbiased and comprehensive coverage and analysis of events in Greece and the region.
In the past week, its news coverage of the arrest of the leading members of the Neonazi hate gang, Golden Dawn, which poses as a political party, has been invaluable. With its comprehensive and analytical news reports and features, photographs and cartoons, backed up by an up-to-minute blog roll, it is unmatched by any other Greek news site.
EnetEnglish covers political and foreign affairs, the economy, immigration, social issues and sport. It will offer opinions and analysis from across the political spectrum. In addition, there is a special section, Community, dedicated to helping the international community living in Greece.
EnetEnglish is a division of one of my favourite Greek newspapers, Eleftherotypia (Ελευθεροτυπία), a national daily with sympathies on the left in Greek politics. It was founded in 1975, a year after the collapse of the colonels’ regime and the restoration of democracy in Greece.
It faced severe financial problems two years ago. Only four editions were published in 2011, and the newspaper filed for bankruptcy that December. But Eleftherotypia and its internet site, Enet, were relaunched at the beginning of this year [10 January 2013].
EnetEnglish was set up to meet a demand for objective news coverage of Greece, within Greece and around the world. The site supports making Greece’s democracy and economy more transparent, meritocratic and accountable. The publishers and editorial staff support a media environment in which journalism serves the public as the final arbiter in any democratic process.
The publisher is Harris Ikonomopoulos and the staff include Damian Mac Con Uladh, who is also known in Ireland for his reports and analysis of Greek politics and life in The Irish Times.
Earlier today, EnetEnglish reposted my blog posting from Rethymnon on the periptero or kiosk that is found on almost every street corner in Greece, and that serves as much more than newsstands.
The posting was quickly reposted on the Athens News and has already been shared on countless Facebook pages, leading even to some new Facebook friends.
One Greek diplomat, now living back in Athens, commented: “From one who knows Greece probably much better than most Greeks, who has an amazing understanding and genuine love for Greece.” We have been good friends for many years, but to read her comments still brought a smile to my face.
Other comments include “Beautiful words,” “this is so true,” and “A charming and culturally educational essay.”
Earlier in the week, it was reposted on the site Real Corfu.
It has been a true pleasure to be part of EnetEnglish, Eleftherotypia and Greek journalism today.
Patrick Comerford
Greece is a wonderful newspaper-reading society. Every island, town and city seems to have its own newspaper, many of them daily newspapers. Iraklion in Crete has at least three daily newspapers. When I am in Greece I enjoy reading local and national newspapers – in Greek and in England.
Greek journalists work under trying and dangerous conditions. They are often targeted by police when they are covering demonstrations and many have received threats from the extreme right, the ultra left and anarchists.
Most Greeks buy their favourite daily newspapers in the afternoon at their local períptero (περίπτερος) or kiosk – a part of everyday life in Greece and an essential element of the streetscape of every Greek city and town.
For many years, my source of English-language news in Greece was The Athens News. This was once Greece’s oldest and only English-language newspaper. The Athens News was founded in 1952 by Yannis Horn, and for 60 years it was Greece’s best-known English-language newspaper until its sad demise last year [2012].
The readers of The Athens News included diplomats, journalists, and members of Greece’s English-speaking and foreign community who relied on the newspaper to keep abreast of domestic and international events. The Athens News was also essential reading by Greek politicians, civil servants and businessmen as well as Greeks abroad.
After 49 years as a daily newspaper, The Athens News became a weekly newspaper on 16 March 2001. But it remained essential reading for many English-speaking people in Greece, and it was a pleasure to be a guest contributor to The Athens News, reviewing the exhibition Byzantium 330-1453 at the Royal Academy of Arts in London in early 2009.
However, with the collapse of the Greek economy and increasing competition, The Athens News fell on hard times, and its last printed issue was published a year ago on 5 October 2012.
There were lingering hopes that the newspaper might find a new investor who would rescue the title. But the website was finally taken down in March 2013.
Some of the former journalists with The Athens News have faithfully maintained the Facebook page, others have been involved in setting up a new English-language newspaper, Athens Views, which hit the newsstands and the kiosks or periptera across Greece two months ago on 2 August.
Athens Views is an independent weekly newspaper offering in-depth analysis of current affairs, politics, the economy, the arts and life in Greece, and is supported by an excellent Facebook page.
Meanwhile, Greece’s leading conservative political and financial daily newspaper, Kathimerini (Η Καθημερινή, ‘The Daily), continues to publish an abridged daily English-language supplement that is part of the editions of the International Herald Tribune sold in Greece and Cyprus.
Kathimerini, which dates back to 1919, was created by Georgios Vlahos and was then owned by his daughter, Eleni Vlahou, and her husband, Constantine Loundras. Eleni Vlahou, who was revered as the Grande Dame of Greek journalism, sold the title shortly before her death, and Kathimerini has been owned by Aristidis Alafouzos since 1988.
EnetEnglish ... an online news service from Eleftherotypia
An exciting development, with immense potential in recent months is EnetEnglish, an independent, online news service focused on Greece. This online service was launched six months ago [20 February 2013] and is backed up by a Facebook page that gives access to the main website and can also be followed on Twitter.
EnetEnglish is dedicated to serving an international readership, in Greece and around the world, with timely, unbiased and comprehensive coverage and analysis of events in Greece and the region.
In the past week, its news coverage of the arrest of the leading members of the Neonazi hate gang, Golden Dawn, which poses as a political party, has been invaluable. With its comprehensive and analytical news reports and features, photographs and cartoons, backed up by an up-to-minute blog roll, it is unmatched by any other Greek news site.
EnetEnglish covers political and foreign affairs, the economy, immigration, social issues and sport. It will offer opinions and analysis from across the political spectrum. In addition, there is a special section, Community, dedicated to helping the international community living in Greece.
EnetEnglish is a division of one of my favourite Greek newspapers, Eleftherotypia (Ελευθεροτυπία), a national daily with sympathies on the left in Greek politics. It was founded in 1975, a year after the collapse of the colonels’ regime and the restoration of democracy in Greece.
It faced severe financial problems two years ago. Only four editions were published in 2011, and the newspaper filed for bankruptcy that December. But Eleftherotypia and its internet site, Enet, were relaunched at the beginning of this year [10 January 2013].
EnetEnglish was set up to meet a demand for objective news coverage of Greece, within Greece and around the world. The site supports making Greece’s democracy and economy more transparent, meritocratic and accountable. The publishers and editorial staff support a media environment in which journalism serves the public as the final arbiter in any democratic process.
The publisher is Harris Ikonomopoulos and the staff include Damian Mac Con Uladh, who is also known in Ireland for his reports and analysis of Greek politics and life in The Irish Times.
Earlier today, EnetEnglish reposted my blog posting from Rethymnon on the periptero or kiosk that is found on almost every street corner in Greece, and that serves as much more than newsstands.
The posting was quickly reposted on the Athens News and has already been shared on countless Facebook pages, leading even to some new Facebook friends.
One Greek diplomat, now living back in Athens, commented: “From one who knows Greece probably much better than most Greeks, who has an amazing understanding and genuine love for Greece.” We have been good friends for many years, but to read her comments still brought a smile to my face.
Other comments include “Beautiful words,” “this is so true,” and “A charming and culturally educational essay.”
Earlier in the week, it was reposted on the site Real Corfu.
It has been a true pleasure to be part of EnetEnglish, Eleftherotypia and Greek journalism today.
18 September 2013
Thinking about the seashores of Crete
Στο περιγιάλι το κρυφό ... On the secret seashore ... on the beach in Rethymnon earlier this month (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
Less than two weeks after returning from Crete, I still have the words of a poem by the Greek poet Giorgios Seferis (1900-1971) going round and round in my mind.
As I think of the beaches of Rethymnon, my mind is humming the arrangement by Mikis Theodorakis of the poem Αρνηση (Denial) or Στο περιγιάλι (Sto Perigiali), which is well-loved and popular in Greece. In this poem, Seferis conjures up wild and romantic images of a Greek beach setting. But, he does so in a way that is characteristic of Seferis and his work, with a human story at its heart.
At the same time, I am reminded of the role this poet and former ambassador played in resisting the far-right junta of the colonels in Greece after they took power in 1967, and the frightening spectre of the resurgence of the far-right in Greece today.
Seferis is one of the two Greek poets to have been honoured with the Nobel Prize for Literature – the other poet is Odysseas Elytis (1911-1996), who was born in Iraklion in Crete, and together Seferis and Elytis can be credited with the modernisation of Greek literature.
Seferis was born in Urla, near Smyrna (present-day Izmir in modern-day Turkey), in 1900 but moved to Athens with his family in 1914, before the horrific ethnic cleansing of the 1920s, and there received his education.
His collection Στροφή (Strophe, Turning Point), which was published in 1931, included the poem Άρνηση (Denial).
Seferis was also greatly influenced by Kavafis, TS Eliot and Ezra Pound and in 1936 he translated Eliot’s Wasteland into Greek. It is easy to find resonances of the Wasteland in Seferis’ Μυθιστόρημα (Mythistorema, Mythical Narrative), with the dreamy darkness of the narrative and the fragmentary form.
During World War II, he joined Free Greek Government as it first fled to Crete and then went into exile in Egypt, South Africa, and Italy. He returned to liberated Athens in 1944, and resumed his diplomatic career with postings in Turkey (1948-1950) London (1951-1953), Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, and Iraq (1953-1956), and then as the Greek Ambassador in London (1957-1962), before retiring back to Athens.
His sense of being an exile from his home constantly haunted him. He did not return to the city of his birth until 1950, but then found a sense of closure when he visited Cyprus in 1953, feeling an instant affinity with the island. That visit inspired him to end a seven-year literary dry spell, and a new collection of poems, Ημερολόγιο Καταστρώματος ΙΙΙ (Imerologio Katastromatos III, Log Book III), celebrated that sense of homecoming.
He received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1963. Four years later, after the military coup in 1967, Seferis went into voluntary seclusion and many of his poems were banned, including the versions that Mikis Theodorakis had set to music and arranged.
On 28 March 1969, he made a statement on the BBC World Service, distributing copies to every newspaper in Athens, and declaring in absolute terms: “This anomaly must end.”
He became an important symbol of resistance against the repressive right-wing regime that continued to terrorise Greece until 1974. Denial and its setting by Mikis Theodorakis became the anthem of resistance to the colonels, and when he died in 1971 huge crowds followed his coffin singing the words Denial. He is buried at the First Cemetery of Athens.
His place in Greek culture was acknowledged when a well-loved stanza from his 1935 collection Μυθιστόρημα was included in the Opening Ceremony at the 2004 Athens Olympics:
I woke with this marble head in my hands;
It exhausts my elbows and I don’t know where to put it down.
It was falling into the dream as I was coming out of the dream.
So our life became one and it will be very difficult for it to separate again.
Thanks to the music of Mikis Theodorakis, Denial is probably the best -nown poem in all modern Greek poetry.
Tonight I am thinking of Crete and secret seashores, golden sands, sea-breezes ... and those who resist the rise of political evil in Greece.
Αρνηση
Στο περιγιάλι το κρυφό
κι άσπρο σαν περιστέρι
διψάσαμε το μεσημέρι•
μα το νερό γλυφό.
Πάνω στην άμμο την ξανθή
γράψαμε τ' όνομά της•
ωραία που φύσηξεν ο μπάτης
και σβήστηκε η γραφή.
Mε τι καρδιά, με τι πνοή,
τι πόθους και τι πάθος,
πήραμε τη ζωή μας• λάθος!
κι αλλάξαμε ζωή.
Denial
On the secret seashore
white like a pigeon
we thirsted at noon;
but the water was brackish.
On the golden sand
we wrote her name;
but the sea-breeze blew
and the writing vanished.
With what spirit, what heart,
what desire and passion
we lived our life: a mistake!
So we changed our life.
[English translation: Edmund Keeley and Phillip Sherrard]
Patrick Comerford
Less than two weeks after returning from Crete, I still have the words of a poem by the Greek poet Giorgios Seferis (1900-1971) going round and round in my mind.
As I think of the beaches of Rethymnon, my mind is humming the arrangement by Mikis Theodorakis of the poem Αρνηση (Denial) or Στο περιγιάλι (Sto Perigiali), which is well-loved and popular in Greece. In this poem, Seferis conjures up wild and romantic images of a Greek beach setting. But, he does so in a way that is characteristic of Seferis and his work, with a human story at its heart.
At the same time, I am reminded of the role this poet and former ambassador played in resisting the far-right junta of the colonels in Greece after they took power in 1967, and the frightening spectre of the resurgence of the far-right in Greece today.
Seferis is one of the two Greek poets to have been honoured with the Nobel Prize for Literature – the other poet is Odysseas Elytis (1911-1996), who was born in Iraklion in Crete, and together Seferis and Elytis can be credited with the modernisation of Greek literature.
Seferis was born in Urla, near Smyrna (present-day Izmir in modern-day Turkey), in 1900 but moved to Athens with his family in 1914, before the horrific ethnic cleansing of the 1920s, and there received his education.
His collection Στροφή (Strophe, Turning Point), which was published in 1931, included the poem Άρνηση (Denial).
Seferis was also greatly influenced by Kavafis, TS Eliot and Ezra Pound and in 1936 he translated Eliot’s Wasteland into Greek. It is easy to find resonances of the Wasteland in Seferis’ Μυθιστόρημα (Mythistorema, Mythical Narrative), with the dreamy darkness of the narrative and the fragmentary form.
During World War II, he joined Free Greek Government as it first fled to Crete and then went into exile in Egypt, South Africa, and Italy. He returned to liberated Athens in 1944, and resumed his diplomatic career with postings in Turkey (1948-1950) London (1951-1953), Lebanon, Syria, Jordan, and Iraq (1953-1956), and then as the Greek Ambassador in London (1957-1962), before retiring back to Athens.
His sense of being an exile from his home constantly haunted him. He did not return to the city of his birth until 1950, but then found a sense of closure when he visited Cyprus in 1953, feeling an instant affinity with the island. That visit inspired him to end a seven-year literary dry spell, and a new collection of poems, Ημερολόγιο Καταστρώματος ΙΙΙ (Imerologio Katastromatos III, Log Book III), celebrated that sense of homecoming.
He received the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1963. Four years later, after the military coup in 1967, Seferis went into voluntary seclusion and many of his poems were banned, including the versions that Mikis Theodorakis had set to music and arranged.
On 28 March 1969, he made a statement on the BBC World Service, distributing copies to every newspaper in Athens, and declaring in absolute terms: “This anomaly must end.”
He became an important symbol of resistance against the repressive right-wing regime that continued to terrorise Greece until 1974. Denial and its setting by Mikis Theodorakis became the anthem of resistance to the colonels, and when he died in 1971 huge crowds followed his coffin singing the words Denial. He is buried at the First Cemetery of Athens.
His place in Greek culture was acknowledged when a well-loved stanza from his 1935 collection Μυθιστόρημα was included in the Opening Ceremony at the 2004 Athens Olympics:
I woke with this marble head in my hands;
It exhausts my elbows and I don’t know where to put it down.
It was falling into the dream as I was coming out of the dream.
So our life became one and it will be very difficult for it to separate again.
Thanks to the music of Mikis Theodorakis, Denial is probably the best -nown poem in all modern Greek poetry.
Tonight I am thinking of Crete and secret seashores, golden sands, sea-breezes ... and those who resist the rise of political evil in Greece.
Αρνηση
Στο περιγιάλι το κρυφό
κι άσπρο σαν περιστέρι
διψάσαμε το μεσημέρι•
μα το νερό γλυφό.
Πάνω στην άμμο την ξανθή
γράψαμε τ' όνομά της•
ωραία που φύσηξεν ο μπάτης
και σβήστηκε η γραφή.
Mε τι καρδιά, με τι πνοή,
τι πόθους και τι πάθος,
πήραμε τη ζωή μας• λάθος!
κι αλλάξαμε ζωή.
Denial
On the secret seashore
white like a pigeon
we thirsted at noon;
but the water was brackish.
On the golden sand
we wrote her name;
but the sea-breeze blew
and the writing vanished.
With what spirit, what heart,
what desire and passion
we lived our life: a mistake!
So we changed our life.
[English translation: Edmund Keeley and Phillip Sherrard]
07 September 2013
‘The Doors! The Doors! In wisdom, let us attend!’
Looking across the roofs of Rethymnon from the terrace above the Centre for Byzantine Art (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
The terrace café on the rooftop of the restored Venetian mansion that houses the Centre for Byzantine Art on Ethinikis Antistasros Street offers panoramic views across the rooftops and narrow streets of the old town of Rethymnon, with the dome on the top of the Fortezza hill to the north and the mountains of Crete to the south. The scene is punctuated here and there by minarets of old former mosques and the domes and rowers and turrets of more modern churches.
It was my last day in Rethymnon on Friday [6 September 7, 2013], and I spent a few hours in the morning strolling through these same narrow streets, enjoying the town’s amazing collection of doors and doorways from the centuries of Venetian and Ottoman rule.
The Venetian doorframe at 30 Vernardou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
I wrote last year about the doors of Rethymnon, with their rich variety of style and sad state of neglect and decay that threatens many of them.
The Venetian doorframe at No 30 Vernardou Street is one of the richest in Rethymnon, with a Latin inscription: Virtutue fulcida domus MCCIX Kal Iunii, “Virtue illuminates the house, Calends of June 1609.” The doorway also displays the coat of arms of the Clodio family, one of the leading Venetian families in Rethymnon.
The doorway at 13 Klidis Street has putti chasing birds a Latin inscription that reads Qui sperat in Deo sublevabitur (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
But another door with a Latin inscription that I missed last year is at No 13 Klidis Street. The door is framed with Corinthian columns, and in the triangular spaces beside the pediment, there is a pair of putti or chubby little child-like angels chasing birds.
The Latin inscription in the crown of the doorway above reads: Qui sperat in Deo sublevabitur, “Whoever trusts in God is secure.” The full Biblical quotation is: “The fear of others lays a snare, but one who trusts in the Lord is secure” (Proverbs 29: 25).
An icon by Alexandra Kaouki in the recent exhibition in the Fortezza (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Beneath the Fortezza, in Melissinou Street, I visited the icon workshop of Alexandra Kaouki, who also exhibited three of her icons in the Icon Painting Exhibition which I visited last Saturday and which was part of this year’s Renaissance Festival in Rethymon.
Time moves on at Marylee’s House beneath the Fortezza (Photographs: Patrick Comerford, 2012 left and 2013 right)
Beneath the Fortezza, I came across a house which had provided one of my favourite photographs last year, with its colourful façade, flowerpots and window and a punctured bicycle outside.
Yesterday, the bicycle that had been outside Marylee’s house last year had given way to a motorbike. I suppose time just moves on at a speed we never understand.
‘The Doors! The Doors! In wisdom, let us attend!’ … the icon screen in the Cathedral in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Having admired the doors of the houses of the Old Town, it was time to think of the doors of heaven, and I spent a short time in the Cathedral in Mitropolis Square before the doors of the iconostasis or icon screen.
At the Divine Liturgy in the Orthodox Church, the Symbol of Faith or the Creed is traditionally introduced with the exclamation: “The Doors! The Doors! In wisdom, let us attend!”
However, the doors referred to here are the doors of the church building, and not the doors of the iconostasis as many think. This is a call to ensure that all catechumens and non-communicants have left, and that no-one enters or leave the liturgical assembly. The historical liturgical expectation was that the Creed would be said only by those who had already officially pronounced it at baptism, and continued to confess it within the life of the Church.
Of course, visitors are now allowed to remain in church and, because the bread and wine of the liturgy have been brought though the doors of the iconostasis, many people now believe that these are the doors referred to in the call: “The Doors! The Doors! In wisdom, let us attend!”
After dinner at Kyria Maria in Moschoviti Street, a shay back street near the Rimondi Fountain, we left Rethymnon late last night, and returned to Iraklion to catch an early morning flight.
I was back in Dublin eight days after leaving. Rethymnon is still basking in the sunshine, I am assured, but it is raining in Dublin. Summer is gone. Time moves on, but faith remains constant. “Whoever trusts in God is secure.”
Walking through the streets of Rethymnon yesterday (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
The terrace café on the rooftop of the restored Venetian mansion that houses the Centre for Byzantine Art on Ethinikis Antistasros Street offers panoramic views across the rooftops and narrow streets of the old town of Rethymnon, with the dome on the top of the Fortezza hill to the north and the mountains of Crete to the south. The scene is punctuated here and there by minarets of old former mosques and the domes and rowers and turrets of more modern churches.
It was my last day in Rethymnon on Friday [6 September 7, 2013], and I spent a few hours in the morning strolling through these same narrow streets, enjoying the town’s amazing collection of doors and doorways from the centuries of Venetian and Ottoman rule.
The Venetian doorframe at 30 Vernardou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
I wrote last year about the doors of Rethymnon, with their rich variety of style and sad state of neglect and decay that threatens many of them.
The Venetian doorframe at No 30 Vernardou Street is one of the richest in Rethymnon, with a Latin inscription: Virtutue fulcida domus MCCIX Kal Iunii, “Virtue illuminates the house, Calends of June 1609.” The doorway also displays the coat of arms of the Clodio family, one of the leading Venetian families in Rethymnon.
The doorway at 13 Klidis Street has putti chasing birds a Latin inscription that reads Qui sperat in Deo sublevabitur (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
But another door with a Latin inscription that I missed last year is at No 13 Klidis Street. The door is framed with Corinthian columns, and in the triangular spaces beside the pediment, there is a pair of putti or chubby little child-like angels chasing birds.
The Latin inscription in the crown of the doorway above reads: Qui sperat in Deo sublevabitur, “Whoever trusts in God is secure.” The full Biblical quotation is: “The fear of others lays a snare, but one who trusts in the Lord is secure” (Proverbs 29: 25).
An icon by Alexandra Kaouki in the recent exhibition in the Fortezza (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Beneath the Fortezza, in Melissinou Street, I visited the icon workshop of Alexandra Kaouki, who also exhibited three of her icons in the Icon Painting Exhibition which I visited last Saturday and which was part of this year’s Renaissance Festival in Rethymon.
Time moves on at Marylee’s House beneath the Fortezza (Photographs: Patrick Comerford, 2012 left and 2013 right)
Beneath the Fortezza, I came across a house which had provided one of my favourite photographs last year, with its colourful façade, flowerpots and window and a punctured bicycle outside.
Yesterday, the bicycle that had been outside Marylee’s house last year had given way to a motorbike. I suppose time just moves on at a speed we never understand.
‘The Doors! The Doors! In wisdom, let us attend!’ … the icon screen in the Cathedral in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Having admired the doors of the houses of the Old Town, it was time to think of the doors of heaven, and I spent a short time in the Cathedral in Mitropolis Square before the doors of the iconostasis or icon screen.
At the Divine Liturgy in the Orthodox Church, the Symbol of Faith or the Creed is traditionally introduced with the exclamation: “The Doors! The Doors! In wisdom, let us attend!”
However, the doors referred to here are the doors of the church building, and not the doors of the iconostasis as many think. This is a call to ensure that all catechumens and non-communicants have left, and that no-one enters or leave the liturgical assembly. The historical liturgical expectation was that the Creed would be said only by those who had already officially pronounced it at baptism, and continued to confess it within the life of the Church.
Of course, visitors are now allowed to remain in church and, because the bread and wine of the liturgy have been brought though the doors of the iconostasis, many people now believe that these are the doors referred to in the call: “The Doors! The Doors! In wisdom, let us attend!”
After dinner at Kyria Maria in Moschoviti Street, a shay back street near the Rimondi Fountain, we left Rethymnon late last night, and returned to Iraklion to catch an early morning flight.
I was back in Dublin eight days after leaving. Rethymnon is still basking in the sunshine, I am assured, but it is raining in Dublin. Summer is gone. Time moves on, but faith remains constant. “Whoever trusts in God is secure.”
Walking through the streets of Rethymnon yesterday (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
06 September 2013
‘I hope for nothing, I fear nothing, I am free’:
visiting the grave of Nikos Kazantzakis
The grave of Nikos Kazantzakis on the walls of Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
We climbed up through the narrow streets of Iraklion in the warm afternoon sun yesterday [Thursday 5 September 2013] to visit the grave Crete’s most famous writer, Nikos Kazantzakis (1883-1957).
Earlier we had lunch in a side street near Aghios Minas Cathedral with Manolis Xrysakis, a long-standing friend since the mid-1990s.
Manolis and his family in Iraklion and Piskopiano are proud of their kinship with Nikos Kazantzakis: they are descended from the sister-in-law of ‘Kapetan Mihailis,’ the eponymous hero of the Kazantzakis novel based on his father’s adventures and published in English as Freedom and Death.
One balmy summer’s evening with the Chrysakis family in Piskopiano, Manolis’ uncle, the late Kostas Chrysakis, pored over old family photographs, postcards and letters, sharing childhood memories of his famous “Uncle Nikos.”
Kostas Chrysakis treasured his photographs of his uncle’s funeral. They show men in traditional island costumes, like Dirk Bogarde in Ill Met by Moonlight, in a procession led by robed Orthodox priests through the very streets we traipsed up yesterday afternoon.
Although Kazantzakis was denied church ceremonies in Athens, when his body was flown to Crete by Aristotle Onassis he lay in state in Aghias Minas Cathedral in Iraklion, and a priest officiated at the burial, giving lie to the popular claim that Kazantzakis had died an excommunicate.
Kostas claimed that when the Vatican and the Archbishop of Athens demanded the excommunication of Kazantzakis following the publication of The Last Temptation of Christ, the Patriarch of Constantinople insisted that the Church of Crete was independent.
The author’s grave on the bastion above Iraklion is marked by a simple cross and an epitaph carved in his own handwriting, with his own words:
Δεν ελπίζω τίποτα.
Δε φοβάμαι τίποτα.
Είμαι λέφτερος
(Den elpizo tipota. Den fovamai tipota. Eimai leftheros, “I hope for nothing, I fear nothing, I am free”).
The writer’s grave is on top of the great walls and bastions were part of the Venetian defences of the city they called Candia. Two of the great city gates have survived to this day: the Pantocrator or Panigra Gate, also known now as the Chania Gate (1570), at the western edge; and the Jesus Gate or Kainouryia Gate (about 1587), at the southern edge. At the south-west corner of these great walls, the grave of the author of such great works as Zorba the Greek and The Last Temptation of Christ is on the Martinengo Bastion.
Below the bastion is a monument to Iraklion’s partisans who resisted the Nazi invasion of Crete during World War II. From the top of the bastion we had splendid views.
To the south is Mount Iouktas – it looks like the head of a man in profile and so is said to have given rise to the Cretan legend that this was the head of the dead and buried god Zeus.
Looking across the city and out to the Mediterranean from the grave of Nikos Kazantzakis on the Martinengo Bastion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
To the north, the roofs of the city lay below us, pierced by the dome and the baroque towers and turrets of Aghios Minas. Beyond, the blue of the Mediterranean stretched out to meet the blue of the sky on the horizon.
The simplicity and the quiet spirituality expressed in the setting and epitaph on the tomb of Kazantzakis reflects his personality and style and his life and work.
Some years ago, I wrote about Kazantzakis and his brief love affair with the daughter of an Irish rector, which he recalls in his autobiographical novel Report to Greco. At his grave yesterday, I recalled how he prefaced this novel with a prayer: “Three kinds of souls, three kinds of prayers: 1, I am a bow in your hands, Lord, draw me lest I rot. 2, Do not overdraw me, Lord, I shall break. 3, Overdraw me, Lord, and who cares if I break!”
It was late afternoon when we walked back down through the streets of Iraklion, stopping to admire the Church of Saint Matthew, which was once attached to Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, and the small church of Aghia Paraskevi.
The monks at prayer … an image from the exhibition of paintings of Mount Athos by Efthymios Warlamis in Saint Mark’s Basilica, Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
After coffee in Lion Square beside the Morosini Fountain, three of us visited an exhibition of paintings by Efthymios Warlamis in Saint Mark’s Basilica, “The Holy Mount of Athos.”
This is a unique exhibition dedicated to the Holy Mountain of Athos, including the monasteries, the chapels, the sketes or small monastic dependencies, the landscape, the Orthodox monks and their ritual life.
The exhibition includes 72 original paintings by Efthymios Warlamis, a wooden simantron which is used to call the monks to prayer, and a sound room which recreates the effect the monks singing their daily prayers.
Greek-born Professor Efthymios Warlamis is now based in Austria, where he is the Director of the International Centre for Art and Design in Schrems, and Director of the Waldviertel Art Museum.
I have also visited his ‘Alexander 2000’ exhibition in Thessaloniki in 1997 and the exhibition he brought to Dublin Castle some years ago. It would be wonderful to see this exhibition in Ireland too.
An early dinner with our friend Despina was cut short by the need to catch the bus back to Rethymnon. It seems this holiday is coming to an end too soon.
● The exhibition in Saint Mark’s continues until Sunday 15 September, and is open 09:00-13:30 and 18:00-21:00 (Saturdays, 09:00-13:30).
Patrick Comerford
Δεν ελπίζω τίποτα.
Δε φοβούμαι τίποτα.
Είμαι λέφτερος.
– Νίκος Καζαντζάκης
Δε φοβούμαι τίποτα.
Είμαι λέφτερος.
– Νίκος Καζαντζάκης
We climbed up through the narrow streets of Iraklion in the warm afternoon sun yesterday [Thursday 5 September 2013] to visit the grave Crete’s most famous writer, Nikos Kazantzakis (1883-1957).
Earlier we had lunch in a side street near Aghios Minas Cathedral with Manolis Xrysakis, a long-standing friend since the mid-1990s.
Manolis and his family in Iraklion and Piskopiano are proud of their kinship with Nikos Kazantzakis: they are descended from the sister-in-law of ‘Kapetan Mihailis,’ the eponymous hero of the Kazantzakis novel based on his father’s adventures and published in English as Freedom and Death.
One balmy summer’s evening with the Chrysakis family in Piskopiano, Manolis’ uncle, the late Kostas Chrysakis, pored over old family photographs, postcards and letters, sharing childhood memories of his famous “Uncle Nikos.”
Kostas Chrysakis treasured his photographs of his uncle’s funeral. They show men in traditional island costumes, like Dirk Bogarde in Ill Met by Moonlight, in a procession led by robed Orthodox priests through the very streets we traipsed up yesterday afternoon.
Although Kazantzakis was denied church ceremonies in Athens, when his body was flown to Crete by Aristotle Onassis he lay in state in Aghias Minas Cathedral in Iraklion, and a priest officiated at the burial, giving lie to the popular claim that Kazantzakis had died an excommunicate.
Kostas claimed that when the Vatican and the Archbishop of Athens demanded the excommunication of Kazantzakis following the publication of The Last Temptation of Christ, the Patriarch of Constantinople insisted that the Church of Crete was independent.
The author’s grave on the bastion above Iraklion is marked by a simple cross and an epitaph carved in his own handwriting, with his own words:
Δεν ελπίζω τίποτα.
Δε φοβάμαι τίποτα.
Είμαι λέφτερος
(Den elpizo tipota. Den fovamai tipota. Eimai leftheros, “I hope for nothing, I fear nothing, I am free”).
The writer’s grave is on top of the great walls and bastions were part of the Venetian defences of the city they called Candia. Two of the great city gates have survived to this day: the Pantocrator or Panigra Gate, also known now as the Chania Gate (1570), at the western edge; and the Jesus Gate or Kainouryia Gate (about 1587), at the southern edge. At the south-west corner of these great walls, the grave of the author of such great works as Zorba the Greek and The Last Temptation of Christ is on the Martinengo Bastion.
Below the bastion is a monument to Iraklion’s partisans who resisted the Nazi invasion of Crete during World War II. From the top of the bastion we had splendid views.
To the south is Mount Iouktas – it looks like the head of a man in profile and so is said to have given rise to the Cretan legend that this was the head of the dead and buried god Zeus.
Looking across the city and out to the Mediterranean from the grave of Nikos Kazantzakis on the Martinengo Bastion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
To the north, the roofs of the city lay below us, pierced by the dome and the baroque towers and turrets of Aghios Minas. Beyond, the blue of the Mediterranean stretched out to meet the blue of the sky on the horizon.
The simplicity and the quiet spirituality expressed in the setting and epitaph on the tomb of Kazantzakis reflects his personality and style and his life and work.
Some years ago, I wrote about Kazantzakis and his brief love affair with the daughter of an Irish rector, which he recalls in his autobiographical novel Report to Greco. At his grave yesterday, I recalled how he prefaced this novel with a prayer: “Three kinds of souls, three kinds of prayers: 1, I am a bow in your hands, Lord, draw me lest I rot. 2, Do not overdraw me, Lord, I shall break. 3, Overdraw me, Lord, and who cares if I break!”
It was late afternoon when we walked back down through the streets of Iraklion, stopping to admire the Church of Saint Matthew, which was once attached to Saint Catherine’s Monastery on Mount Sinai, and the small church of Aghia Paraskevi.
The monks at prayer … an image from the exhibition of paintings of Mount Athos by Efthymios Warlamis in Saint Mark’s Basilica, Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
After coffee in Lion Square beside the Morosini Fountain, three of us visited an exhibition of paintings by Efthymios Warlamis in Saint Mark’s Basilica, “The Holy Mount of Athos.”
This is a unique exhibition dedicated to the Holy Mountain of Athos, including the monasteries, the chapels, the sketes or small monastic dependencies, the landscape, the Orthodox monks and their ritual life.
The exhibition includes 72 original paintings by Efthymios Warlamis, a wooden simantron which is used to call the monks to prayer, and a sound room which recreates the effect the monks singing their daily prayers.
Greek-born Professor Efthymios Warlamis is now based in Austria, where he is the Director of the International Centre for Art and Design in Schrems, and Director of the Waldviertel Art Museum.
I have also visited his ‘Alexander 2000’ exhibition in Thessaloniki in 1997 and the exhibition he brought to Dublin Castle some years ago. It would be wonderful to see this exhibition in Ireland too.
An early dinner with our friend Despina was cut short by the need to catch the bus back to Rethymnon. It seems this holiday is coming to an end too soon.
● The exhibition in Saint Mark’s continues until Sunday 15 September, and is open 09:00-13:30 and 18:00-21:00 (Saturdays, 09:00-13:30).
In the Greece that few tourists ever
wander in, I still need to pay in cash
A worn and battered sculpture on Tsagri Street in Rethymnon speaks of the present sufferings of Greek people (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
There are two images on parallel streets off Tsouderon Street in Rethymnon that speak to me of the present crisis in Greece, which goes far beyond a matter of budgeting and the economy.
At one end of Tsagri Street, a worn and beaten sculpture appears to portray the suffering Greek people today. The figures in it are bowed and beaten, yet appear to be helping each other to shake off the chains of oppression. Some days ago, a passer-by seems to have a placed a sprig of laurel on it, as if to say the Greek people can yet be victorious.
The former Commercial Bank of Greece branch is abandoned and the oranges and lemons are rotting on the trees in the garden (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
In Kastrinogianni Street, a narrow side street leading to Mitropolis (Cathedral) Square, there is a small, overgrown, abandoned graveyard. Beside it, the former premises of the Commercial Bank of Greece (Εμπορική Τράπεζα) are locked and empty, the windows are broken, the garden is overgrown and the orange and lemon trees in a once elegant garden are rotting on the trees, with no-one to pick the fruit. It is says so much of how Greek commerce and banking have turned sour.
Yet, in what seems to be a statement of economic patriotism, a large proportion of the tourists in Rethymnon this month are Greeks who are on stay-at-home holidays or “stay-cations.”
Despite economic and financial problems that continue to have a severe impact on every walk of life, the Bank of Greece says revenue from tourism rose by 18% in the first half of this year, to €3.3 billion. Part of this is due to the resilience of the Greek tourist sector, which remains tenacious in its efforts to attract visitors and works hard to develop the whole package on offer to potential holiday-makers.
Across the board, Greek hotels have cut their prices by about 10%. Restaurants and tavernas in Rethymnon are offering better value, with special deals for two. The concept of an “early bird menu” is a difficult one for Greeks, who have always enjoyed dining late in the evening. But restaurants are working hard – so hard that even at 11 at night or later I see young couples, who have worked hard all day and all evening, collecting toddlers from grandparents to bring them home at the end of a long, hard-working day.
Red, open-top buses are a new effort this year to improve the tourist attractions in Rethymnon and in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
But there is more to it than working harder and longer hours. New ideas are also being pushed with vigour. Rethymnon is a small city, but now there is a red open-top bus circuit around the town, and visiting some of the local villages, leading from the seafront every hour on the hour. In Iraklion, the island capital, there are two competing operators, running city tours on red open-top buses and on sleek new yellow buses.
In the hills above Rethymnon, a small convent with a new lease of life thanks to the innovative and creative attitudes of the nuns of Agia Irini, is co-operating with tour operators, opened the doors to tourists not in a money-making exercise but because Russian tourists have expressed a particular interest in visiting this working nunnery and a special devotion to the convent patron, Saint Irene.
New franchises are offering everything imaginable made from or with olives (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
New franchises have opened across Rethymnon, selling every imaginable product made from olive oil and olive wood, from soap to kitchen utensils, and a range of ancillary goods, including kitchen towels and mugs. The branding is clever, but it also provides continuing employment in farms and villages throughout Crete, and boosts the image of one of the mainstays of the Greek agricultural sector.
Whether franchises like this are sustainable is another question, but many people are willing to invest their money and their time in the hope of developing something worthwhile. Certainly, they feel there is no point in leaving their money in the bank and projects like this might give some hope to their families.
Archaeological and museum staff state their case outside the Loggia in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The public sector cuts have hit tourist services and public transport too, so that there is no longer a ferry service between Rethymnon and Pireaus. But, despite widespread strikes and protests against austerity measures that have closed tourist attractions such as museums and archaeological sites, the Greek tourism sector is working hard not just to keep its head above water, but to develop and prosper.
Greece has received €240 billion in international bailout since 2010, but the Greek tourism sector represents up to 15% of this country’s €190 billion economy – in other words, tourism in one year is almost as important as all the bailouts over the past three years.
In the first half of this year alone, revenue from tourism rose by 18% to €3.3 billion, according to figures from the Bank of Greece, and the forecasts expect the number of visitors to Greece this year to reach 17 million, up 1.5 million from 15.5 million in 2012.
It is no wonder that the Finance Minister, Yannis Stournaras, could tell Parliament in Athens last week that Greece is on target to raise its GDP this year, mainly thanks to tourism.
Meanwhile, for tourists in Crete, there are few signs of economic doom and gloom, and where there are signs of action among the public sector workers, many tourists fail to notice them or cannot read the signs in Greek. And most visitors cannot read the aggressive racist graffiti from the extreme-right Golden Dawn targeting foreigners.
Any short-term fears tourists may have about currency and financial stability are allayed when they find the ATM machines are working and plastic can be used in virtually every shop and outlet.
The ATM machine is working well at National Bank of Greece next door in Tsouderon Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
But I’m still paying in cash for everything. I’m using the ATM in the branch of the National Bank of Greece next door in Tsouderon Street, and am paying with cash in shops, restaurants, periptera and for tours and buses.
Tax evasion among the rich and the elite was so endemic in Greece over the generations that it was undoubtedly one of the factors that contributed to the collapse of the Greek economy.
However, as I insist on paying with cash rather than with plastic, even for large transactions, I am not encouraging tax avoidance or tax evasion. Many businesses in this present climate find plastic payments are immediately swallowed up by the banks to pay off overdrafts, business loans and mortgages. On the other hand, cash payments leave businesses with the choice of paying suppliers and workers immediately, when suppliers are demanding cash and many workers in the tourist sector are seasonal and vulnerable.
Predictions say 40,000 small businesses in Greece face closure this year. They need all the support they can get. The local seasonal workers and farmers cannot wait. The banks can wait. The hedge funds can wait. The German banks can wait.
Derek Scally reported in The Irish Times last week how one German bank has received German government guarantees of €124 billion and has counted up losses of €9.3 billion. One German bank costs more than half the total €240 billion that Greece has received in aid to date. But no-one in Germany is hollering about the German banks in the same tones they use when talking about Greece.
A voluntary clinic on Kastrinogianni Street, where queues form at the end of the working day and no questions are asked (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Meanwhile, as Greece remains in financial trouble and is expecting to receive more international assistance, the tourists in Crete are unlikely to stroll further along Kastrinogianni Street, where – at the opposite end to the abandoned premises of the Commercial Bank of Greece – local people who have lost everything, including their dignity, queue each evening outside .a crèche which doubles after the working day as a voluntary clinic.
At the end of the day, doctors, nurses and hospital workers offer a free clinic. They say this is not charity, because everyone is entitled to proper health care as a human right. They ask no questions, and they undertake to intervene with hospitals if further care is needed.
Last week, the newly-appointed Health Minister, Adonis Georgiadis, made his views clear on Mega TV when he told protesting health workers: “We should have fired you so you can understand what is really happening.”
He has since conceded that his outburst was “excessive.” But he seems not to realise that health sector workers may be the only people who truly see and hear what is really happening in Greece today.
Can you buy everything at Nama? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
There is a shop called Nama in Metropolis Square, at the end of Kastrinogianni Street, and another one in Paleologou Street, both a few steps from where I am staying on Tsouderon Street.
Both shops seem to sell everything, including beads, which I imagine were once a form of currency in some places, and hats, once used to pass around for a collection. But I am sure my humorous take on the name of this shop, so close to these symbols of despair and desperation in Greece, is lost even on Irish tourists, for few tourists in Rethymnon ever walk through this part of the town.
Patrick Comerford
There are two images on parallel streets off Tsouderon Street in Rethymnon that speak to me of the present crisis in Greece, which goes far beyond a matter of budgeting and the economy.
At one end of Tsagri Street, a worn and beaten sculpture appears to portray the suffering Greek people today. The figures in it are bowed and beaten, yet appear to be helping each other to shake off the chains of oppression. Some days ago, a passer-by seems to have a placed a sprig of laurel on it, as if to say the Greek people can yet be victorious.
The former Commercial Bank of Greece branch is abandoned and the oranges and lemons are rotting on the trees in the garden (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
In Kastrinogianni Street, a narrow side street leading to Mitropolis (Cathedral) Square, there is a small, overgrown, abandoned graveyard. Beside it, the former premises of the Commercial Bank of Greece (Εμπορική Τράπεζα) are locked and empty, the windows are broken, the garden is overgrown and the orange and lemon trees in a once elegant garden are rotting on the trees, with no-one to pick the fruit. It is says so much of how Greek commerce and banking have turned sour.
Yet, in what seems to be a statement of economic patriotism, a large proportion of the tourists in Rethymnon this month are Greeks who are on stay-at-home holidays or “stay-cations.”
Despite economic and financial problems that continue to have a severe impact on every walk of life, the Bank of Greece says revenue from tourism rose by 18% in the first half of this year, to €3.3 billion. Part of this is due to the resilience of the Greek tourist sector, which remains tenacious in its efforts to attract visitors and works hard to develop the whole package on offer to potential holiday-makers.
Across the board, Greek hotels have cut their prices by about 10%. Restaurants and tavernas in Rethymnon are offering better value, with special deals for two. The concept of an “early bird menu” is a difficult one for Greeks, who have always enjoyed dining late in the evening. But restaurants are working hard – so hard that even at 11 at night or later I see young couples, who have worked hard all day and all evening, collecting toddlers from grandparents to bring them home at the end of a long, hard-working day.
Red, open-top buses are a new effort this year to improve the tourist attractions in Rethymnon and in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
But there is more to it than working harder and longer hours. New ideas are also being pushed with vigour. Rethymnon is a small city, but now there is a red open-top bus circuit around the town, and visiting some of the local villages, leading from the seafront every hour on the hour. In Iraklion, the island capital, there are two competing operators, running city tours on red open-top buses and on sleek new yellow buses.
In the hills above Rethymnon, a small convent with a new lease of life thanks to the innovative and creative attitudes of the nuns of Agia Irini, is co-operating with tour operators, opened the doors to tourists not in a money-making exercise but because Russian tourists have expressed a particular interest in visiting this working nunnery and a special devotion to the convent patron, Saint Irene.
New franchises are offering everything imaginable made from or with olives (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
New franchises have opened across Rethymnon, selling every imaginable product made from olive oil and olive wood, from soap to kitchen utensils, and a range of ancillary goods, including kitchen towels and mugs. The branding is clever, but it also provides continuing employment in farms and villages throughout Crete, and boosts the image of one of the mainstays of the Greek agricultural sector.
Whether franchises like this are sustainable is another question, but many people are willing to invest their money and their time in the hope of developing something worthwhile. Certainly, they feel there is no point in leaving their money in the bank and projects like this might give some hope to their families.
Archaeological and museum staff state their case outside the Loggia in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The public sector cuts have hit tourist services and public transport too, so that there is no longer a ferry service between Rethymnon and Pireaus. But, despite widespread strikes and protests against austerity measures that have closed tourist attractions such as museums and archaeological sites, the Greek tourism sector is working hard not just to keep its head above water, but to develop and prosper.
Greece has received €240 billion in international bailout since 2010, but the Greek tourism sector represents up to 15% of this country’s €190 billion economy – in other words, tourism in one year is almost as important as all the bailouts over the past three years.
In the first half of this year alone, revenue from tourism rose by 18% to €3.3 billion, according to figures from the Bank of Greece, and the forecasts expect the number of visitors to Greece this year to reach 17 million, up 1.5 million from 15.5 million in 2012.
It is no wonder that the Finance Minister, Yannis Stournaras, could tell Parliament in Athens last week that Greece is on target to raise its GDP this year, mainly thanks to tourism.
Meanwhile, for tourists in Crete, there are few signs of economic doom and gloom, and where there are signs of action among the public sector workers, many tourists fail to notice them or cannot read the signs in Greek. And most visitors cannot read the aggressive racist graffiti from the extreme-right Golden Dawn targeting foreigners.
Any short-term fears tourists may have about currency and financial stability are allayed when they find the ATM machines are working and plastic can be used in virtually every shop and outlet.
The ATM machine is working well at National Bank of Greece next door in Tsouderon Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
But I’m still paying in cash for everything. I’m using the ATM in the branch of the National Bank of Greece next door in Tsouderon Street, and am paying with cash in shops, restaurants, periptera and for tours and buses.
Tax evasion among the rich and the elite was so endemic in Greece over the generations that it was undoubtedly one of the factors that contributed to the collapse of the Greek economy.
However, as I insist on paying with cash rather than with plastic, even for large transactions, I am not encouraging tax avoidance or tax evasion. Many businesses in this present climate find plastic payments are immediately swallowed up by the banks to pay off overdrafts, business loans and mortgages. On the other hand, cash payments leave businesses with the choice of paying suppliers and workers immediately, when suppliers are demanding cash and many workers in the tourist sector are seasonal and vulnerable.
Predictions say 40,000 small businesses in Greece face closure this year. They need all the support they can get. The local seasonal workers and farmers cannot wait. The banks can wait. The hedge funds can wait. The German banks can wait.
Derek Scally reported in The Irish Times last week how one German bank has received German government guarantees of €124 billion and has counted up losses of €9.3 billion. One German bank costs more than half the total €240 billion that Greece has received in aid to date. But no-one in Germany is hollering about the German banks in the same tones they use when talking about Greece.
A voluntary clinic on Kastrinogianni Street, where queues form at the end of the working day and no questions are asked (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Meanwhile, as Greece remains in financial trouble and is expecting to receive more international assistance, the tourists in Crete are unlikely to stroll further along Kastrinogianni Street, where – at the opposite end to the abandoned premises of the Commercial Bank of Greece – local people who have lost everything, including their dignity, queue each evening outside .a crèche which doubles after the working day as a voluntary clinic.
At the end of the day, doctors, nurses and hospital workers offer a free clinic. They say this is not charity, because everyone is entitled to proper health care as a human right. They ask no questions, and they undertake to intervene with hospitals if further care is needed.
Last week, the newly-appointed Health Minister, Adonis Georgiadis, made his views clear on Mega TV when he told protesting health workers: “We should have fired you so you can understand what is really happening.”
He has since conceded that his outburst was “excessive.” But he seems not to realise that health sector workers may be the only people who truly see and hear what is really happening in Greece today.
Can you buy everything at Nama? (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
There is a shop called Nama in Metropolis Square, at the end of Kastrinogianni Street, and another one in Paleologou Street, both a few steps from where I am staying on Tsouderon Street.
Both shops seem to sell everything, including beads, which I imagine were once a form of currency in some places, and hats, once used to pass around for a collection. But I am sure my humorous take on the name of this shop, so close to these symbols of despair and desperation in Greece, is lost even on Irish tourists, for few tourists in Rethymnon ever walk through this part of the town.
05 September 2013
The covered balconies of Rethymnon:
a unique part of Ottoman architecture
The once-elegant balcony above the bicycle shop on Paleologou Street is a unique piece of Rethymnon’s architectural heritage but is in danger of being lost (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
Many elegant houses built in the Venetian and Turkish styles still survive in Rethymnon, and in the narrow streets and alleys, some of these houses have elegant, propped wooden kiosks jutting out over the street from the floor above ground level.
This is an architectural feature that can be seen in other parts of Greece that were once under Ottoman rule, particularly in Thessaloniki. It was first introduced from other parts of the Balkans, perhaps from the 18th century on. But these kiosks are not found with the same frequency nor with the same elegance on the rest of Greece as they are found in Rethymnon.
Rethymnon has about six dozen of these overhanging covered balconies or kiosks, stealing away a little extra covered space on the first floors of houses in the narrow streets. Sadly, although some have been restored in recent years, others are dilapidated and decaying, and when I set out in search of the balconies one morning this week, I found that had at least two had disappeared and are another lost element in the heritage of Crete.
These kiosks, known in Greek as xostego or as sahnisia are projecting bay windows on the upper stories of old Ottoman houses. The Greek word sahnisia seems to be is derived from the Persian şah nişi, meaning “the shah’s throne.”
But these balconies were the thrones neither of Persian shah’s nor of Turkish beys. Instead, it is said, they were built so that the wives of prosperous Muslims could sit in the sun and watch all that was going on below without being seen by people on the streets – a Turkish form of purdah, I imagine.
They consist of a timber frame filled with small rubble or mud mortar, which is called bagdati in Turkish. The wall is then plastered with rich plaster and then covered with a timber trellis with lattice work.
Generally, the kiosks are supported by wooden struts or cantilevers known as direkia or fourousia, although some also rest on stone corbels.
A timber-framed balcony on Arkadíou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The greatest number of surviving hanging balconies is on Arkadíou Street, the long shopping street that runs through the town from one end to the other, parallel with the seafront, with at least seven of these unique constructions.
There are wooden balconies at Nos 55, 92, 168, 186, 214, 216 and 214, and they are in various states of repair or disrepair.
At first sight, the balcony above the Metaxa shop at 168, on the corner of Kornarou Street, looks pristine. But on closer inspection it is in a perilous state, with the floor collapsing at the northern end, and pigeons making a home in the overhanging eaves. The wooden two-storey covered balcony at 186 Arkadíou Street was in a poor state of disrepair for many years, but has been restored carefully, with attention to detail, in more recent years.
Carefully-restored, paired balconies at 214 and 216 Arkadíou Street, between Vafe Street and the Loggia (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The covered balconies at numbers 214 and 216 form an interesting pair, squeezed between the corner of Vafe Street and the Loggia, one a storey higher than the other, so that one wonders how the side window in No 216 was ever opened.
A balcony for sale at No 243 Arkadíou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
And if you fancy owning your own piece of Cretan architectural heritage, then at the moment No 243 has a “for sale” sign outside.
A covered balcony in two sections on the corner of Arkadíou Street and Vlastoú Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
On the corner of 92 Arkadíou Street and Nos 1,3 and 5 Vlastoú Street, there is a covered balcony in two sections above the entrance to the Zenia Hotel. This was a clever solution to a problem posed by the interior layout of the house.
The second largest collection of surviving hanging balconies is on Arabatzoglou Street (once known as Thessaloníki Street), where I found five kiosks above street level at numbers 13, 23, 27, 33 and 69.
The kiosk at No 27 Arabatzoglou Street is, perhaps, the most interesting, with its characteristic Turkish planking. The house stands opposite the Punch Bowl, the town’s only Irish pub.
A balcony with a view of two streets and a square (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The balcony above O Psaras restaurant at No 69 at the top of Arabatzoglou Street, at the junction with Nikiforos Fokas Street (once known as the Long Alley), gave the inhabitants of the house a view down both streets and allowed them to see all that was happening in the tiny square below in front of the mosque that had once been a Dominican church and once again became a Church in 1917, dedicated to the Virgin Mary.
What has been described as “a rather inelegant” covered balcony at No 20 Reniéri Street, faces down into Klidí Street. At No 6 and 8 Klidí Street, there are two paired balconies on neighbouring houses, but at different elevations.
The two-storey covered balcony at No 45 Vernárdou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
On Vernárdou Street, there are balconies at Nos 35 and No 45. No 45 has a two-storey covered balcony, while No 35 is one side of a house that has two balconies: the balcony on Vernárdou Street is beside a modern balcony with pretty flower pots; the second balcony is around the corner on Epimenidou Street but still on the same house.
Two kiosks and one house: on the corner of Epimenidou Street and Vernárdou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Many kiosks gave the residents of a house views down a full street. A covered, three-bay balcony on a house on Paleologou Street has a magnificent view across Petihaki Square; the Centre for Byzantine Art, which is a majestically restored Venetian-Ottoman mansion, has a large balcony with views down Tsouderon Street, where I am staying, and along both sides Ethnikis Antistasseos Street. The balcony at the Vetera Hotel looks out onto Mitropolis Square (Cathedral Square).
There are other kiosks can be seen on houses on Petihaki Square, Nikiforos Fokas Street, Koronaiou Street, Kritovoulidou Street and on Papaioannou Square.
These balconies are a threatened part of the architectural heritage of Retymnon. On Kornárou Street, there was once a covered balcony at No 26, supported on four wooden corbels. At 36 Patriárchou Grigoríou, the house once had a covered balcony supported on stone corbels. However, when I went in search of them this week, neither the balconies nor the stone and wooden corbels were there any longer, and the houses were in advancing stages of disrepair.
Many of the covered balconies are now used for storage or lay empty. The once elegant balcony above the bicycle shop on Paleologou Street, shows years of neglect, with pigeons flying in an out between the timbers. Without remedial care and attention, another unique piece of Rethymnon’s cultural heritage may soon be lost.
But these balconies are also an interesting architectural example of the way Ottoman and Venetian architecture intersected, and even an example of how domestic architecture can make a cultural contribution to Christian-Muslim dialogue.
Patrick Comerford
Many elegant houses built in the Venetian and Turkish styles still survive in Rethymnon, and in the narrow streets and alleys, some of these houses have elegant, propped wooden kiosks jutting out over the street from the floor above ground level.
This is an architectural feature that can be seen in other parts of Greece that were once under Ottoman rule, particularly in Thessaloniki. It was first introduced from other parts of the Balkans, perhaps from the 18th century on. But these kiosks are not found with the same frequency nor with the same elegance on the rest of Greece as they are found in Rethymnon.
Rethymnon has about six dozen of these overhanging covered balconies or kiosks, stealing away a little extra covered space on the first floors of houses in the narrow streets. Sadly, although some have been restored in recent years, others are dilapidated and decaying, and when I set out in search of the balconies one morning this week, I found that had at least two had disappeared and are another lost element in the heritage of Crete.
These kiosks, known in Greek as xostego or as sahnisia are projecting bay windows on the upper stories of old Ottoman houses. The Greek word sahnisia seems to be is derived from the Persian şah nişi, meaning “the shah’s throne.”
But these balconies were the thrones neither of Persian shah’s nor of Turkish beys. Instead, it is said, they were built so that the wives of prosperous Muslims could sit in the sun and watch all that was going on below without being seen by people on the streets – a Turkish form of purdah, I imagine.
They consist of a timber frame filled with small rubble or mud mortar, which is called bagdati in Turkish. The wall is then plastered with rich plaster and then covered with a timber trellis with lattice work.
Generally, the kiosks are supported by wooden struts or cantilevers known as direkia or fourousia, although some also rest on stone corbels.
A timber-framed balcony on Arkadíou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The greatest number of surviving hanging balconies is on Arkadíou Street, the long shopping street that runs through the town from one end to the other, parallel with the seafront, with at least seven of these unique constructions.
There are wooden balconies at Nos 55, 92, 168, 186, 214, 216 and 214, and they are in various states of repair or disrepair.
At first sight, the balcony above the Metaxa shop at 168, on the corner of Kornarou Street, looks pristine. But on closer inspection it is in a perilous state, with the floor collapsing at the northern end, and pigeons making a home in the overhanging eaves. The wooden two-storey covered balcony at 186 Arkadíou Street was in a poor state of disrepair for many years, but has been restored carefully, with attention to detail, in more recent years.
Carefully-restored, paired balconies at 214 and 216 Arkadíou Street, between Vafe Street and the Loggia (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The covered balconies at numbers 214 and 216 form an interesting pair, squeezed between the corner of Vafe Street and the Loggia, one a storey higher than the other, so that one wonders how the side window in No 216 was ever opened.
A balcony for sale at No 243 Arkadíou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
And if you fancy owning your own piece of Cretan architectural heritage, then at the moment No 243 has a “for sale” sign outside.
A covered balcony in two sections on the corner of Arkadíou Street and Vlastoú Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
On the corner of 92 Arkadíou Street and Nos 1,3 and 5 Vlastoú Street, there is a covered balcony in two sections above the entrance to the Zenia Hotel. This was a clever solution to a problem posed by the interior layout of the house.
The second largest collection of surviving hanging balconies is on Arabatzoglou Street (once known as Thessaloníki Street), where I found five kiosks above street level at numbers 13, 23, 27, 33 and 69.
The kiosk at No 27 Arabatzoglou Street is, perhaps, the most interesting, with its characteristic Turkish planking. The house stands opposite the Punch Bowl, the town’s only Irish pub.
A balcony with a view of two streets and a square (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The balcony above O Psaras restaurant at No 69 at the top of Arabatzoglou Street, at the junction with Nikiforos Fokas Street (once known as the Long Alley), gave the inhabitants of the house a view down both streets and allowed them to see all that was happening in the tiny square below in front of the mosque that had once been a Dominican church and once again became a Church in 1917, dedicated to the Virgin Mary.
What has been described as “a rather inelegant” covered balcony at No 20 Reniéri Street, faces down into Klidí Street. At No 6 and 8 Klidí Street, there are two paired balconies on neighbouring houses, but at different elevations.
The two-storey covered balcony at No 45 Vernárdou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
On Vernárdou Street, there are balconies at Nos 35 and No 45. No 45 has a two-storey covered balcony, while No 35 is one side of a house that has two balconies: the balcony on Vernárdou Street is beside a modern balcony with pretty flower pots; the second balcony is around the corner on Epimenidou Street but still on the same house.
Two kiosks and one house: on the corner of Epimenidou Street and Vernárdou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Many kiosks gave the residents of a house views down a full street. A covered, three-bay balcony on a house on Paleologou Street has a magnificent view across Petihaki Square; the Centre for Byzantine Art, which is a majestically restored Venetian-Ottoman mansion, has a large balcony with views down Tsouderon Street, where I am staying, and along both sides Ethnikis Antistasseos Street. The balcony at the Vetera Hotel looks out onto Mitropolis Square (Cathedral Square).
There are other kiosks can be seen on houses on Petihaki Square, Nikiforos Fokas Street, Koronaiou Street, Kritovoulidou Street and on Papaioannou Square.
These balconies are a threatened part of the architectural heritage of Retymnon. On Kornárou Street, there was once a covered balcony at No 26, supported on four wooden corbels. At 36 Patriárchou Grigoríou, the house once had a covered balcony supported on stone corbels. However, when I went in search of them this week, neither the balconies nor the stone and wooden corbels were there any longer, and the houses were in advancing stages of disrepair.
Many of the covered balconies are now used for storage or lay empty. The once elegant balcony above the bicycle shop on Paleologou Street, shows years of neglect, with pigeons flying in an out between the timbers. Without remedial care and attention, another unique piece of Rethymnon’s cultural heritage may soon be lost.
But these balconies are also an interesting architectural example of the way Ottoman and Venetian architecture intersected, and even an example of how domestic architecture can make a cultural contribution to Christian-Muslim dialogue.
04 September 2013
A folk museum in Rethymnon
that tells ‘The Tale of a Town’
Looking out onto Vernadou Street from the arcade of the and Folk Art Museum of Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
There is an old proverb in Crete that says: “Chania for weapons, Rethymnon for letters, Iraklion for wine.”
Rethymnon’s best known literary figure is the writer Pandelis Prevelakis (1909-1986), although in western evaluations of Cretan literature he is often overshadowed by his friend and contemporary Nikos Kazantzakis.
Pandelis Prevelakis (Παντελής Πρεβελάκης) was one of the leading Greek prose writers of the “1930s generation.” Like Kazantzakis, he also wrote a biography of the great Cretan-born painter, El Greco. But he is best remembered in his home town for his account of daily life in Rethymnon, The Tale of a Town. His other works include Desolate Crete (1945), an account of the 1866 insurrection; The Death of the Medici (1939), an historical novel; The Sun of Death (1959); and a large trilogy, The Cretan (1948-1950, 1965), set in the half century before Crete’s independence from Ottoman rule, introducing characters such as the Greek Prime Minister Eleftherios Venizelos, who was born in Chania. He also wrote four historical plays.
The Tale of a Town (Το χρονικό μιας Pολιτείας, 1938), which is now impossible to find in an English-language translation in the bookshops of Rethymnon, chronicles unfamiliar and now often-lost aspects of daily life in Crete, with its nostalgic description of Rethymnon from 1898 to 1924.
When Prevelakis died in Athens in 1986, he was buried in a churchyard near the top of the hill on Kazantzakis Street in Rethymnon.
This morning I visited the Historical and Folk Art Museum in Vernadou Street in the centre of the old town. This is another way of telling “the tale of a town,” and the labeling on many of the exhibits is amplified with quotations from Prevelakis describing many of the skills and crafts of the town:
“… And so, when I speak only of the arts and tools of the men of other days, it seems to me that I am turning back in time, penetrating into their lives and entering into their souls by a way no warlike history could lead me … I would like Rethymnos to live on here, to live on through this part of me, who am a shoot of its stock.”
The museum is housed in an old, restored Venetian palazzo, on one side of the old courtyard, with its bitter orange trees.
The work of a traditional lyra-maker on display in the museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
On the ground floor, there exhibits of coins, flags, maps medals, photographs, old Ottoman prayer books and weapons from antiquity to World War II.
There are displays demonstrating traditional crafts and trades such as saddlers, coppersmiths, blacksmiths, cobblers and lyra-makers, and a reconstuction of an early 20th century taverna and coffee shop.. A noticeable absence is an account of the tradition of icon-writings.
A reconstructed traditional taverna in the museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Upstairs there are exhibits of woven textiles, embroideries, lace, costumes, ceramics, baskets, and reconstructions illustrating a 19th century middle class living room and traditional bread-making. Once again, the noticeable absence is an account of ordinary, every-day life of the Venetian or Ottoman residents from the past.
The museum is a private institution, founded in 1973 by Mrs Faly Voyatzakis and the late Christophoros Stavroulakis, and officially inaugurated in 1998.
The carved stone staircase in the courtyard of the museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
If there is room for improvement, then perhaps the museum could offer workshops for children on crafts that are in danger of being forgotten, the courtyard would make a wonderful traditional café and taverna, which might draw in more discerning tourists, and there is surely room for a stall selling postcards and books on the history of Rethymnon – perhaps even English-language versions of The Tale of a Town by Pandelis Pervelakis.
Patrick Comerford
There is an old proverb in Crete that says: “Chania for weapons, Rethymnon for letters, Iraklion for wine.”
Rethymnon’s best known literary figure is the writer Pandelis Prevelakis (1909-1986), although in western evaluations of Cretan literature he is often overshadowed by his friend and contemporary Nikos Kazantzakis.
Pandelis Prevelakis (Παντελής Πρεβελάκης) was one of the leading Greek prose writers of the “1930s generation.” Like Kazantzakis, he also wrote a biography of the great Cretan-born painter, El Greco. But he is best remembered in his home town for his account of daily life in Rethymnon, The Tale of a Town. His other works include Desolate Crete (1945), an account of the 1866 insurrection; The Death of the Medici (1939), an historical novel; The Sun of Death (1959); and a large trilogy, The Cretan (1948-1950, 1965), set in the half century before Crete’s independence from Ottoman rule, introducing characters such as the Greek Prime Minister Eleftherios Venizelos, who was born in Chania. He also wrote four historical plays.
The Tale of a Town (Το χρονικό μιας Pολιτείας, 1938), which is now impossible to find in an English-language translation in the bookshops of Rethymnon, chronicles unfamiliar and now often-lost aspects of daily life in Crete, with its nostalgic description of Rethymnon from 1898 to 1924.
When Prevelakis died in Athens in 1986, he was buried in a churchyard near the top of the hill on Kazantzakis Street in Rethymnon.
This morning I visited the Historical and Folk Art Museum in Vernadou Street in the centre of the old town. This is another way of telling “the tale of a town,” and the labeling on many of the exhibits is amplified with quotations from Prevelakis describing many of the skills and crafts of the town:
“… And so, when I speak only of the arts and tools of the men of other days, it seems to me that I am turning back in time, penetrating into their lives and entering into their souls by a way no warlike history could lead me … I would like Rethymnos to live on here, to live on through this part of me, who am a shoot of its stock.”
The museum is housed in an old, restored Venetian palazzo, on one side of the old courtyard, with its bitter orange trees.
The work of a traditional lyra-maker on display in the museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
On the ground floor, there exhibits of coins, flags, maps medals, photographs, old Ottoman prayer books and weapons from antiquity to World War II.
There are displays demonstrating traditional crafts and trades such as saddlers, coppersmiths, blacksmiths, cobblers and lyra-makers, and a reconstuction of an early 20th century taverna and coffee shop.. A noticeable absence is an account of the tradition of icon-writings.
A reconstructed traditional taverna in the museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Upstairs there are exhibits of woven textiles, embroideries, lace, costumes, ceramics, baskets, and reconstructions illustrating a 19th century middle class living room and traditional bread-making. Once again, the noticeable absence is an account of ordinary, every-day life of the Venetian or Ottoman residents from the past.
The museum is a private institution, founded in 1973 by Mrs Faly Voyatzakis and the late Christophoros Stavroulakis, and officially inaugurated in 1998.
The carved stone staircase in the courtyard of the museum (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
If there is room for improvement, then perhaps the museum could offer workshops for children on crafts that are in danger of being forgotten, the courtyard would make a wonderful traditional café and taverna, which might draw in more discerning tourists, and there is surely room for a stall selling postcards and books on the history of Rethymnon – perhaps even English-language versions of The Tale of a Town by Pandelis Pervelakis.
The pleasures and traditions of
Crete’s olive groves and olive oil
Olive groves in the mountains above Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
This year’s olive picking season has started in Crete, where olive trees and olive oil are almost the lifeblood of the island.
The climate and the soil of Crete are ideal for cultivating olives, and the area around Rethymnon in particular, which has an abundance of olive groves, has been associated olive growing for centuries.
The olive grove near Adele, on the way up to the Monastery of Arkadi, stretches across a vast, flat expanse of open land in a semi-mountainous area to the south-east of Rethymnon, and it is said to be one of the largest olive groves in the Mediterranean.
Olive growing has been an essential part of life in Crete for over 3,000 years. Linear B inscriptions and archaeological finds in Knossos show that olives were cultivated and olive oil production was important in the economy of the Minoan civilisation.
Much later, in the fifth century BC, Sophocles wrote a hymn to the olive tree for his last play, Oedipus at Colonos (401 BC).
The olive tree is an essential part of life in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Today, it is said, Crete has more than over 1.5 million olive trees. The main types of olives cultivated here are chondrolies, with some koroneikes, and a few tsounates. They produce excellent olives for the table, but most olives harvested in Crete this season will be used in the production of olive oil too.
The harvesting season lasts for six months. Green olives are being harvested now and through to next month [September-October]; black olives, which are riper, will be harvested from November to January; and olives for extracting oil are gathered from December to February.
Despite the size and extent of the olive grove near Adele, olive groves are generally quite small and need to be tended regularly. It takes three or four years for an olive tree to start producing fruit, and a tree reaches its most fruitful age sometime between 15 and 30 years.
Olive groves are a long-term investment (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Olive trees are a long-term investment. The olive tree is known for its long life and can continue producing fruit until it is old as 150. It said some trees in the Adele area date back to the 18th century. The average production of an olive tree is around 26 lb of olives every two years, which can produce up to two litres of oil.
But the older trees have enormous roots wrinkled bark, yet continue to produce crops of up to 70 lb. Sometimes in the groves you can see young trees planted in among the older trees.
To make harvesting easier, trees are often cut short. A ladder is used in many groves to beat the olives down, or the fruit can be shaken down from the trees, with nets and canvas spread beneath the trees to catch the ripe olives as they fall to the ground below.
Young trees can be planted in geometrical formation, but the spaces between the trees are put to good use. The olive groves can also be home to vines, and in some places the space between the trees is used as pasture after the last black olive has been harvested in January or February.
The Olive tree is the “the tree that feeds the children,” according to Sophocles. In Crete, olive groves are often a family business, with 100,000 families producing 10,000 tons of olive oil a year. Olive groves are passed down through the generations, and sometimes a grove can be given by an olive farmer as a dowry for his daughter.
Olives and olive oil account for one of the main sources of income throughout Crete, so that olive oil is often called “Crete’s liquid gold.” The average annual consumption of olive oil in Crete is put at 25 liters per person.
An icon of the Baptism of Christ, worked on a cut of olive wood by Eleftheria Syrianoglou (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Olives and olive trees are used for everything, from wood products including kitchen utensils, to fuel and building materials to plain and simple but aromatic soap.
At the icon exhibition in the Fortezza in Rethymnon at the weekend, there was a collection of small table icons, worked on odd-cuts of olive wood by Eleftheria Syrianoglou.
In the past year, there has been a growth in the number of shops in Retymnon selling olive products, along with everything imaginable to do with olives, including kitchen utensils made with olive wood, mugs , and tea towels, oven gloves and mugs hailing the benefits of the olive.
Olives are an essential part of every Greek salad (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
But first and foremost, olives are an essential part of the Mediterranean diet, and they feature in every meal and at every table. Even when Greeks have breakfast, olives and bread with olive oil are often part of the fare.
Everyone knows that olives are an essential component of every Greek salad. But one of my favourite snacks in Crete is the simple Cretan dakos made from slightly soaked barley rusks (paximadi), chopped or sliced tomatoes, feta, olives, a little garlic, and a sprinkling of oregano according to taste – all dressed with olive oil.
Dakos ... using olives in a traditional snack in Greece (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
It is a tree, self-born, self grown, unaided my men’s hands,
a tree of terror to our enemies and their spears,
a tree that grows best upon this very land!
It is the gray-leaved olive tree, a tree that nurtures our youth,
a tree that no youth nor aged citizen can damage or destroy
because it’s cared for and protected
by ever-watching eyes of Zeus Morios
and Athena of the gray eyes.
– Sophocles
a tree of terror to our enemies and their spears,
a tree that grows best upon this very land!
It is the gray-leaved olive tree, a tree that nurtures our youth,
a tree that no youth nor aged citizen can damage or destroy
because it’s cared for and protected
by ever-watching eyes of Zeus Morios
and Athena of the gray eyes.
– Sophocles
This year’s olive picking season has started in Crete, where olive trees and olive oil are almost the lifeblood of the island.
The climate and the soil of Crete are ideal for cultivating olives, and the area around Rethymnon in particular, which has an abundance of olive groves, has been associated olive growing for centuries.
The olive grove near Adele, on the way up to the Monastery of Arkadi, stretches across a vast, flat expanse of open land in a semi-mountainous area to the south-east of Rethymnon, and it is said to be one of the largest olive groves in the Mediterranean.
Olive growing has been an essential part of life in Crete for over 3,000 years. Linear B inscriptions and archaeological finds in Knossos show that olives were cultivated and olive oil production was important in the economy of the Minoan civilisation.
Much later, in the fifth century BC, Sophocles wrote a hymn to the olive tree for his last play, Oedipus at Colonos (401 BC).
The olive tree is an essential part of life in Crete (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Today, it is said, Crete has more than over 1.5 million olive trees. The main types of olives cultivated here are chondrolies, with some koroneikes, and a few tsounates. They produce excellent olives for the table, but most olives harvested in Crete this season will be used in the production of olive oil too.
The harvesting season lasts for six months. Green olives are being harvested now and through to next month [September-October]; black olives, which are riper, will be harvested from November to January; and olives for extracting oil are gathered from December to February.
Despite the size and extent of the olive grove near Adele, olive groves are generally quite small and need to be tended regularly. It takes three or four years for an olive tree to start producing fruit, and a tree reaches its most fruitful age sometime between 15 and 30 years.
Olive groves are a long-term investment (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Olive trees are a long-term investment. The olive tree is known for its long life and can continue producing fruit until it is old as 150. It said some trees in the Adele area date back to the 18th century. The average production of an olive tree is around 26 lb of olives every two years, which can produce up to two litres of oil.
But the older trees have enormous roots wrinkled bark, yet continue to produce crops of up to 70 lb. Sometimes in the groves you can see young trees planted in among the older trees.
To make harvesting easier, trees are often cut short. A ladder is used in many groves to beat the olives down, or the fruit can be shaken down from the trees, with nets and canvas spread beneath the trees to catch the ripe olives as they fall to the ground below.
Young trees can be planted in geometrical formation, but the spaces between the trees are put to good use. The olive groves can also be home to vines, and in some places the space between the trees is used as pasture after the last black olive has been harvested in January or February.
The Olive tree is the “the tree that feeds the children,” according to Sophocles. In Crete, olive groves are often a family business, with 100,000 families producing 10,000 tons of olive oil a year. Olive groves are passed down through the generations, and sometimes a grove can be given by an olive farmer as a dowry for his daughter.
Olives and olive oil account for one of the main sources of income throughout Crete, so that olive oil is often called “Crete’s liquid gold.” The average annual consumption of olive oil in Crete is put at 25 liters per person.
An icon of the Baptism of Christ, worked on a cut of olive wood by Eleftheria Syrianoglou (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Olives and olive trees are used for everything, from wood products including kitchen utensils, to fuel and building materials to plain and simple but aromatic soap.
At the icon exhibition in the Fortezza in Rethymnon at the weekend, there was a collection of small table icons, worked on odd-cuts of olive wood by Eleftheria Syrianoglou.
In the past year, there has been a growth in the number of shops in Retymnon selling olive products, along with everything imaginable to do with olives, including kitchen utensils made with olive wood, mugs , and tea towels, oven gloves and mugs hailing the benefits of the olive.
Olives are an essential part of every Greek salad (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
But first and foremost, olives are an essential part of the Mediterranean diet, and they feature in every meal and at every table. Even when Greeks have breakfast, olives and bread with olive oil are often part of the fare.
Everyone knows that olives are an essential component of every Greek salad. But one of my favourite snacks in Crete is the simple Cretan dakos made from slightly soaked barley rusks (paximadi), chopped or sliced tomatoes, feta, olives, a little garlic, and a sprinkling of oregano according to taste – all dressed with olive oil.
Dakos ... using olives in a traditional snack in Greece (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
03 September 2013
The 12 Byzantine families: a legend
recalled in the streets of Rethymnon
The story of the 12 Byzantine families, whether it is legend or history, is part of the story of Crete .... a window display in Omodamos shop in Souliou Street, Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Patrick Comerford
Walking around the side-streets and alleyways of Rethymnon this week, I have been curious about many of the street-names that recall ancient Byzantine families that have been prominent in political life in Crete for centuries, and that sometimes claim royal or imperial descent.
I often hear people in Crete claim they are descended from Byzantine imperial or royal families, or from Byzantine nobility. For many years, I was friendly with a family named Kallergis who ran the Semeli restaurant in Piskopiano, in the hills above Hersonissos. Like many families in Crete, they claimed Byzantine royal ancestors.
At least 12 families in Crete claim they are the descendants of Byzantine nobility who settled on the island in two waves in the 11th and 12th centuries. The second settlement gives rise to the story of the “Twelve Archondopoula,” which is part legend and part popular history.
After almost a century and a half of Saracen rule, the Byzantine general Nikephoros Phokas freed Crete from the Arabs in 961. When he became the Emperor Nikephoros II Phokas, the Byzantine court continued to be concerned about living standards and religious practices in Crete Eventually, at the end of the 11th century, the Emperor Alexios I Komnenos sent some prominent Byzantine families from Constantinople to settle in Crete.
This scheme had little impact, and a century later his great-grandson, the Emperor Alexios II Komnenos, sent another group of 12 Byzantine families with royal connections to Crete. In the χρυσὁϐουλλος (chrysoboullos), an imperial document with the emperor’s signature and sealed with gold, the emperor sent his son Isaakion to Crete as king and trustee, with the 12 archondes.
The Phokas and Skordilis families were in charge of the project. The island was divided between the 12 families into 12 districts, and the families were to establish strong links between Constantinople and Crete, increase the Christian population, defend the island from Arabs and pirates, and collect taxes.
It is said 850 ships were needed to transport the 12 families, their soldiers, supplies and horses to Crete. The story of their arrival has passed into Cretan legend as the story of the Twelve Archondopoula or petty lords.
The 12 families named in the imperial charter have been prominent in Crete ever since. They claim they are the descendants of:
● Ioannis Phokas – the family name was changed to Kallergis during the Venetian era;
● Marinos Skordilis, nephew of the Emperor;
● Philipos Gavalas;
● Thomas Archoleos;
● Eustathios Chortatzis;
● Leon Mousouros;
● Constantine Varouchas;
● Andreas Melissinos;
● Loukas Lithios;
● Nikiforos Argyropoulos;
● Dimitrios Vlastos;
● Matheos Kalafatis.
The family names crop up continually in the history of Crete, their coats-of-arms decorate churches and monuments across the island, and family members are still prominent in Greek life.
History or legend
No-one disputes that these families arrived in Crete from Byzantium, that they were from prominent noble Byzantine families, or that they formed a new elite when they settled in Crete.
However, some historians believe the families sometimes created their stories to convince the Venetian rulers of their aristocratic status in the hope of securing a place within the political elite.
They question the authenticity and date of the imperial document, and point out there is no original documentation of this settlement. The only accounts are Venetian records of supposedly translated Greek records or Greek translations of what are said to be earlier Venetian documents.
.
The family stories
The Kallergis (Καλλέργης) family claims descent from Ioannis Phokas, the most senior member of the 12 archontopoula. He in turn was a descendant of Nikephoros Phokas, who freed Crete from the Arabs, and had one of the largest territories, covering the greater part of the present province of Rethymnon.
During the Venetian period, the family changed its name to Kallergis, which is derived from the Greek words kalon (beautiful) and ergon (work), so that Καλλ(ι)έργης became Καλλέργης. Families claiming descent from this dynasty are one of the largest family groups in Crete today.
The Skordili family claims descent from Marinos Skordilis, a nephew of Alexios II Komnenos. He came to Crete with his nine sons and brothers and their families. The Skordilis family district is in Sfakia.
Agiostephaniton Street in the old town in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The Argyropoulos (Αργυρόπουλος) family is also known as Agiostephanites (Αγιοστεφανίτες). The leader of the family, Nikiforos Argyropoulos, moved to Crete with his seven sons and they settled in Mirabello and Sitia in eastern Crete.
The Vlastos family is descended from Dimitrios Vlastos and his seven sons. They settled south of Rethymnon, in the Amari area.
The Venetian conquest
The Church of Aghios Titos in Iraklion ... in 1363 an independent Cretan Republic was proclaimed here under the patronage of Saint Titus (Photograph: Patrick Comerford
Within a generation or two of these families arriving, two separate events unfolded that saw Crete being lost for ever by Byzantium.
Alexios II Komnenos was deposed in 1183. He was succeeded by three new emperors within a space of 20 years, and the Byzantine Empire began to fall into decline.
When Innocent III became Pope in 1198, he proclaimed another crusade, and the Fourth Crusade eventually sailed from Venice in November 1202. But it was underfunded and heavily indebted to the Venetians who had provided the fleet. Alexios Angelos was the son of the recently-deposed and blinded Byzantine Emperor Isaac II Angelos. He negotiated with the leader of the Crusade, Boniface de Montferrat, for the Crusaders to escort him to Constantinople and enthrone him. In return, he promised to end the schism between the Churches of the East and West, to finance the Crusade, and to provide 10,000 extra soldiers to assist in capturing Egypt.
He was enthroned as Alexios III Angelos, but the Crusaders were never paid. They attacked and sacked Constantinople in 1204, and in sharing out the spoils of war Crete was given to Boniface. However, he did not have the means to take control of the island and Crete was sold first to Genoa and then to Venice in 1212.
The Venetians began settling families from Venice to tighten their grip on Crete, Chandax was renamed Candia (today’s Iraklion) and became the seat of the Duke of Candia, and the island was known as the Regno di Candia or Kingdom of Crete.
The Venetians conceded many privileges to the descendants of the 12 archondopoula, and to the descendants of the first, earlier group of Byzantine families, who were known as the archondoromeoi – the Byzantines were known to the Venetians as Romeoi, from the Eastern Roman Empire.
Both groups of families were part of the privilegiati or privileged class. But these families, especially members of the Phokas or Kallergis and Skordilis families, often rebelled.
Argyropoulon Street is a tiny narrow street at the northern end of end of Arkadiou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The first rebellion, led by the Aghiostephanites or Argyropouli family in 1212, was quickly quelled. A revolt led by Skordilis family in 1217 spread rapidly until a treaty was signed with a new doge.
Another large rebellion began in Rethymnon in 1230 after a gathering of the Skordilis, Melissinoi and Drakontopouli families and lasted for six years until Venice conceded lands and castles. The Chortatzes family led a rebellion in 1273.
In 1283, Alexios Kallergis began one of the longest rebellions that lasted for 16 years. Kallergis negotiated a settlement with the Venetians in 1299, in which the Venetian conceded “mixed marriages” and agreed to the appointment of a Greek bishop.
Kallergi Street, off Arkadiou Street in Rethymnon, recalls members of a family who led numerous revolts against Byzantine rule (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
There were further rebellions in 1319, 1332/1333 and 1347. But the most important rebellion was in 1363, when an independent Cretan Republic was proclaimed in Iraklion under the patronage of Saint Titus. Marco Gradenigo was appointed governor of the island, and the other leaders of the rebellion were Luchino dal Verme, Tito Venier and John Kallergis.
In western Crete, the Kallergis family declared the struggle was for the Orthodox faith and for freedom from Latin rule. Soon, all western Crete was in rebels hands, and it took Venice five years to suppress the revolt.
Josef ‘Sifis’ Vlastos from Rethymnon led another revolt in the mid-15th century. But aal the leaders, including Josef Vlastos and his family, were executed in 1454.
The Cretan Renaissance
The great Monastery at Arkadi was restored and transformed by the Chortatzis family, and Klimis Chortatzis was the Abbot of Arkadi in the 1570s and 1580s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
When Constantinople fell to the Ottoman Turks, many Byzantine scholars fled to Crete, bringing with them many ancient Greek and Latin texts that were then printed for the first time in Iraklion. A Cretan typesetter and calligrapher from one of the 12 families, Markos Mousouros (1470-1517), designed the typeface, based on his own handwriting, in which European readers first read these Greek classics.
The first edition of Plato’s Collected Works, printed in Venice in 1513, includes a ‘Poem to Plato’ by Markos Mousouros, in which he calls on Plato to deliver the book to Pope Leo X and seek reimbursement in the form of help to liberate Greece and cultivating Greek learning.
The language of the poem shows the influences of Homer, Euripides, Hesychius and Aristophanes, whose works were first published by Mousouros. The poem was reprinted and translated many times and has influenced later writers.
The Chortatzis or Hortatzis family in Rethymnon was associated with the Cretan Renaissance. The dramatist Georgios Chortatzis was the author of Erofili (Ερωφίλη), a tragedy set in Egypt and still performed in Crete. At the end of the 16th century, the great Monastery at Arkadi was restored and transformed by Klimis and Vissarion Chortatzis, and Klimis Chortatzis was the Abbot of Arkadi in the 1570s and 1580s.
Melissinou Street beneath the Fortezza in Rethymnon ... Cretan legend says the Melissinos family was related to the El Greco (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Some accounts say the Melissinos family was related to the Theotokopoulos family and so to Domenikos Theotokopoulos (1541-1614), better known as El Greco. His family fled Constantinople and found shelter in Fodele, the Melissinos stronghold in Crete.
Domenikos Theotokopoulos (1541-1614), better known as El Greco ... a statue in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Later history of the 12 families
Over time, the fiefs were subdivided and rivalries between the impoverished Cretan aristocrats sometimes turned to destructive blood-feuds such as that between the Pateroi of Sphakia and the Papadopouloi of Rethymnon. As time passed, it became possible to buy admission to the Nobilitas Cretensis. By 1573 there were 400 well-attested descendants of the archontopouli entitled to count themselves among the nobility.
But what happened to these 12 families after Crete fell to the Ottoman Turks in 1669?
Many family members remained in Crete, and their names survive throughout the island. But more fled Crete, so that members of the Kallergis family moved to the Ionian islands, Euboea, Venice and Russia. In Venice, their named changed to Calergi and survives in the name of the Palazzo Vendramin-Calergi on the Grand Canal.
Although many of the Skordilis family stayed in Crete, others moved to Constantinople or to the islands of Zakynthos and Patmos.
Konstatinos Mousouros (1807-1891), a descendant of one of the 12 families, was born in Constantinople and was Turkey’s ambassador in Athens from 1840 until the “Mousouros incident” in 1847 which broke diplomatic relations between Greece and Turkey. Later, he was the Turkish ambassador in London.
The Mousouros family is named in the blood-curdling lyrics of a rebel song from the Venetian period that was later adopted in the struggle against Turkish rule in Crete:
Πότες θα κάμει ξαστεριά, πότες θα φλεβαρίσει,
να πάρω το τουφέκι μου, την έμορφη πατρώνα,
να κατεβώ στον Ομαλό, στη στράτα τω Μουσούρω,
να κάμω μάνες δίχως γιούς, γυναίκες δίχως άντρες,
να κάμω και μωρά παιδιά να 'ναι δίχως μανάδες,
να κλαιν τη νύχτα για βυζί και την αυγή για γάλα
και τ' αποδιαφωτίσματα για την καημένη μάνα.
When will it be starry, when will it be February
So I can grab my gun, my beautiful cartridge belt
And walk down to Omalos on the Mousouros road,
I’ll deprive mothers of their sons and wives of their husbands,
I’ll deprive new-born babies of their mothers,
so they will cry for her breast in the night and in the early morning for milk,
and when the sun rises they will cry for their poor mother.
The song took on a new revolutionary meaning during the colonels’ dictatorship (1967-1974), when students revived it and sang it during their occupation of the Faculty of Law in Athens in 1973. But they changed the words “and walk down to Omalos” to the words “and walk down to the faculty of law.”
Vlastou Street is a quiet, narrow street off Arkadiou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
A small number of Vlastos families moved to Chios, others moved to Constantinople, Wallachia and Moldavia, or to Corfu and Venice. Today, there are about 400 Vlastos families around the world, half of them living in Crete.
These families and their names are reflected today in place-names throughout Crete, such as Kallergo near Rethymon, Kallergiana in Kissamos, near Kastelli, and Skordilo in Sitia, or Kallergis mountain peak (1,650 meters) in the White Mountains. Gavalochori, a village on Cape Drapanos, beyond Chania, is named after the Gavalas family.
A street name sign on Nikifórou Foká Street, long known as the Long Alley (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
As I walk around Rethymnon this week, I notice the names of many of the 12 families on the streetnames, such as:
● Phokas: Nikiforou Foka, long known as the Long Alley, runs on a north-south axis, from the slopes of the Fortezza though the old town.
● Kallergis: Kallergi Street is a small street off the southern end of Arkadiou Street;
● Gavalas: Gavaladon Street is in the west of the new town;
● Chortatzis: Chortatzi is a long street leading south-east from Iroon Square;
● Melissinos: Melisinou Street on the northern edge of the old town runs beneath the Fortezza;
● Argyropoulos or Agiostephanites: Argyropoulon Street is a tiny narrow street at the northern end of end of Arkadiou Street, and there is an Agiostephaniton Street nearby;
● Vlastos: P Vlastou Street is a small street off Arkadiou Street and close to Kallergi Street, and S Vlastou Sreet is north-west of the Municipal Gardens;
. The descendants of the 12 families are found in every walk of life in Rethymnon today, and their names can be seen on plaques and doors for the practices of doctors, dentists, architects and managers, and on shopfronts.
Patrick Comerford
Walking around the side-streets and alleyways of Rethymnon this week, I have been curious about many of the street-names that recall ancient Byzantine families that have been prominent in political life in Crete for centuries, and that sometimes claim royal or imperial descent.
I often hear people in Crete claim they are descended from Byzantine imperial or royal families, or from Byzantine nobility. For many years, I was friendly with a family named Kallergis who ran the Semeli restaurant in Piskopiano, in the hills above Hersonissos. Like many families in Crete, they claimed Byzantine royal ancestors.
At least 12 families in Crete claim they are the descendants of Byzantine nobility who settled on the island in two waves in the 11th and 12th centuries. The second settlement gives rise to the story of the “Twelve Archondopoula,” which is part legend and part popular history.
After almost a century and a half of Saracen rule, the Byzantine general Nikephoros Phokas freed Crete from the Arabs in 961. When he became the Emperor Nikephoros II Phokas, the Byzantine court continued to be concerned about living standards and religious practices in Crete Eventually, at the end of the 11th century, the Emperor Alexios I Komnenos sent some prominent Byzantine families from Constantinople to settle in Crete.
This scheme had little impact, and a century later his great-grandson, the Emperor Alexios II Komnenos, sent another group of 12 Byzantine families with royal connections to Crete. In the χρυσὁϐουλλος (chrysoboullos), an imperial document with the emperor’s signature and sealed with gold, the emperor sent his son Isaakion to Crete as king and trustee, with the 12 archondes.
The Phokas and Skordilis families were in charge of the project. The island was divided between the 12 families into 12 districts, and the families were to establish strong links between Constantinople and Crete, increase the Christian population, defend the island from Arabs and pirates, and collect taxes.
It is said 850 ships were needed to transport the 12 families, their soldiers, supplies and horses to Crete. The story of their arrival has passed into Cretan legend as the story of the Twelve Archondopoula or petty lords.
The 12 families named in the imperial charter have been prominent in Crete ever since. They claim they are the descendants of:
● Ioannis Phokas – the family name was changed to Kallergis during the Venetian era;
● Marinos Skordilis, nephew of the Emperor;
● Philipos Gavalas;
● Thomas Archoleos;
● Eustathios Chortatzis;
● Leon Mousouros;
● Constantine Varouchas;
● Andreas Melissinos;
● Loukas Lithios;
● Nikiforos Argyropoulos;
● Dimitrios Vlastos;
● Matheos Kalafatis.
The family names crop up continually in the history of Crete, their coats-of-arms decorate churches and monuments across the island, and family members are still prominent in Greek life.
History or legend
No-one disputes that these families arrived in Crete from Byzantium, that they were from prominent noble Byzantine families, or that they formed a new elite when they settled in Crete.
However, some historians believe the families sometimes created their stories to convince the Venetian rulers of their aristocratic status in the hope of securing a place within the political elite.
They question the authenticity and date of the imperial document, and point out there is no original documentation of this settlement. The only accounts are Venetian records of supposedly translated Greek records or Greek translations of what are said to be earlier Venetian documents.
.
The family stories
The Kallergis (Καλλέργης) family claims descent from Ioannis Phokas, the most senior member of the 12 archontopoula. He in turn was a descendant of Nikephoros Phokas, who freed Crete from the Arabs, and had one of the largest territories, covering the greater part of the present province of Rethymnon.
During the Venetian period, the family changed its name to Kallergis, which is derived from the Greek words kalon (beautiful) and ergon (work), so that Καλλ(ι)έργης became Καλλέργης. Families claiming descent from this dynasty are one of the largest family groups in Crete today.
The Skordili family claims descent from Marinos Skordilis, a nephew of Alexios II Komnenos. He came to Crete with his nine sons and brothers and their families. The Skordilis family district is in Sfakia.
Agiostephaniton Street in the old town in Rethymnon (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The Argyropoulos (Αργυρόπουλος) family is also known as Agiostephanites (Αγιοστεφανίτες). The leader of the family, Nikiforos Argyropoulos, moved to Crete with his seven sons and they settled in Mirabello and Sitia in eastern Crete.
The Vlastos family is descended from Dimitrios Vlastos and his seven sons. They settled south of Rethymnon, in the Amari area.
The Venetian conquest
The Church of Aghios Titos in Iraklion ... in 1363 an independent Cretan Republic was proclaimed here under the patronage of Saint Titus (Photograph: Patrick Comerford
Within a generation or two of these families arriving, two separate events unfolded that saw Crete being lost for ever by Byzantium.
Alexios II Komnenos was deposed in 1183. He was succeeded by three new emperors within a space of 20 years, and the Byzantine Empire began to fall into decline.
When Innocent III became Pope in 1198, he proclaimed another crusade, and the Fourth Crusade eventually sailed from Venice in November 1202. But it was underfunded and heavily indebted to the Venetians who had provided the fleet. Alexios Angelos was the son of the recently-deposed and blinded Byzantine Emperor Isaac II Angelos. He negotiated with the leader of the Crusade, Boniface de Montferrat, for the Crusaders to escort him to Constantinople and enthrone him. In return, he promised to end the schism between the Churches of the East and West, to finance the Crusade, and to provide 10,000 extra soldiers to assist in capturing Egypt.
He was enthroned as Alexios III Angelos, but the Crusaders were never paid. They attacked and sacked Constantinople in 1204, and in sharing out the spoils of war Crete was given to Boniface. However, he did not have the means to take control of the island and Crete was sold first to Genoa and then to Venice in 1212.
The Venetians began settling families from Venice to tighten their grip on Crete, Chandax was renamed Candia (today’s Iraklion) and became the seat of the Duke of Candia, and the island was known as the Regno di Candia or Kingdom of Crete.
The Venetians conceded many privileges to the descendants of the 12 archondopoula, and to the descendants of the first, earlier group of Byzantine families, who were known as the archondoromeoi – the Byzantines were known to the Venetians as Romeoi, from the Eastern Roman Empire.
Both groups of families were part of the privilegiati or privileged class. But these families, especially members of the Phokas or Kallergis and Skordilis families, often rebelled.
Argyropoulon Street is a tiny narrow street at the northern end of end of Arkadiou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
The first rebellion, led by the Aghiostephanites or Argyropouli family in 1212, was quickly quelled. A revolt led by Skordilis family in 1217 spread rapidly until a treaty was signed with a new doge.
Another large rebellion began in Rethymnon in 1230 after a gathering of the Skordilis, Melissinoi and Drakontopouli families and lasted for six years until Venice conceded lands and castles. The Chortatzes family led a rebellion in 1273.
In 1283, Alexios Kallergis began one of the longest rebellions that lasted for 16 years. Kallergis negotiated a settlement with the Venetians in 1299, in which the Venetian conceded “mixed marriages” and agreed to the appointment of a Greek bishop.
Kallergi Street, off Arkadiou Street in Rethymnon, recalls members of a family who led numerous revolts against Byzantine rule (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
There were further rebellions in 1319, 1332/1333 and 1347. But the most important rebellion was in 1363, when an independent Cretan Republic was proclaimed in Iraklion under the patronage of Saint Titus. Marco Gradenigo was appointed governor of the island, and the other leaders of the rebellion were Luchino dal Verme, Tito Venier and John Kallergis.
In western Crete, the Kallergis family declared the struggle was for the Orthodox faith and for freedom from Latin rule. Soon, all western Crete was in rebels hands, and it took Venice five years to suppress the revolt.
Josef ‘Sifis’ Vlastos from Rethymnon led another revolt in the mid-15th century. But aal the leaders, including Josef Vlastos and his family, were executed in 1454.
The Cretan Renaissance
The great Monastery at Arkadi was restored and transformed by the Chortatzis family, and Klimis Chortatzis was the Abbot of Arkadi in the 1570s and 1580s (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
When Constantinople fell to the Ottoman Turks, many Byzantine scholars fled to Crete, bringing with them many ancient Greek and Latin texts that were then printed for the first time in Iraklion. A Cretan typesetter and calligrapher from one of the 12 families, Markos Mousouros (1470-1517), designed the typeface, based on his own handwriting, in which European readers first read these Greek classics.
The first edition of Plato’s Collected Works, printed in Venice in 1513, includes a ‘Poem to Plato’ by Markos Mousouros, in which he calls on Plato to deliver the book to Pope Leo X and seek reimbursement in the form of help to liberate Greece and cultivating Greek learning.
The language of the poem shows the influences of Homer, Euripides, Hesychius and Aristophanes, whose works were first published by Mousouros. The poem was reprinted and translated many times and has influenced later writers.
The Chortatzis or Hortatzis family in Rethymnon was associated with the Cretan Renaissance. The dramatist Georgios Chortatzis was the author of Erofili (Ερωφίλη), a tragedy set in Egypt and still performed in Crete. At the end of the 16th century, the great Monastery at Arkadi was restored and transformed by Klimis and Vissarion Chortatzis, and Klimis Chortatzis was the Abbot of Arkadi in the 1570s and 1580s.
Melissinou Street beneath the Fortezza in Rethymnon ... Cretan legend says the Melissinos family was related to the El Greco (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
Some accounts say the Melissinos family was related to the Theotokopoulos family and so to Domenikos Theotokopoulos (1541-1614), better known as El Greco. His family fled Constantinople and found shelter in Fodele, the Melissinos stronghold in Crete.
Domenikos Theotokopoulos (1541-1614), better known as El Greco ... a statue in Iraklion (Photograph: Patrick Comerford)
Later history of the 12 families
Over time, the fiefs were subdivided and rivalries between the impoverished Cretan aristocrats sometimes turned to destructive blood-feuds such as that between the Pateroi of Sphakia and the Papadopouloi of Rethymnon. As time passed, it became possible to buy admission to the Nobilitas Cretensis. By 1573 there were 400 well-attested descendants of the archontopouli entitled to count themselves among the nobility.
But what happened to these 12 families after Crete fell to the Ottoman Turks in 1669?
Many family members remained in Crete, and their names survive throughout the island. But more fled Crete, so that members of the Kallergis family moved to the Ionian islands, Euboea, Venice and Russia. In Venice, their named changed to Calergi and survives in the name of the Palazzo Vendramin-Calergi on the Grand Canal.
Although many of the Skordilis family stayed in Crete, others moved to Constantinople or to the islands of Zakynthos and Patmos.
Konstatinos Mousouros (1807-1891), a descendant of one of the 12 families, was born in Constantinople and was Turkey’s ambassador in Athens from 1840 until the “Mousouros incident” in 1847 which broke diplomatic relations between Greece and Turkey. Later, he was the Turkish ambassador in London.
The Mousouros family is named in the blood-curdling lyrics of a rebel song from the Venetian period that was later adopted in the struggle against Turkish rule in Crete:
Πότες θα κάμει ξαστεριά, πότες θα φλεβαρίσει,
να πάρω το τουφέκι μου, την έμορφη πατρώνα,
να κατεβώ στον Ομαλό, στη στράτα τω Μουσούρω,
να κάμω μάνες δίχως γιούς, γυναίκες δίχως άντρες,
να κάμω και μωρά παιδιά να 'ναι δίχως μανάδες,
να κλαιν τη νύχτα για βυζί και την αυγή για γάλα
και τ' αποδιαφωτίσματα για την καημένη μάνα.
When will it be starry, when will it be February
So I can grab my gun, my beautiful cartridge belt
And walk down to Omalos on the Mousouros road,
I’ll deprive mothers of their sons and wives of their husbands,
I’ll deprive new-born babies of their mothers,
so they will cry for her breast in the night and in the early morning for milk,
and when the sun rises they will cry for their poor mother.
The song took on a new revolutionary meaning during the colonels’ dictatorship (1967-1974), when students revived it and sang it during their occupation of the Faculty of Law in Athens in 1973. But they changed the words “and walk down to Omalos” to the words “and walk down to the faculty of law.”
Vlastou Street is a quiet, narrow street off Arkadiou Street (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
A small number of Vlastos families moved to Chios, others moved to Constantinople, Wallachia and Moldavia, or to Corfu and Venice. Today, there are about 400 Vlastos families around the world, half of them living in Crete.
These families and their names are reflected today in place-names throughout Crete, such as Kallergo near Rethymon, Kallergiana in Kissamos, near Kastelli, and Skordilo in Sitia, or Kallergis mountain peak (1,650 meters) in the White Mountains. Gavalochori, a village on Cape Drapanos, beyond Chania, is named after the Gavalas family.
A street name sign on Nikifórou Foká Street, long known as the Long Alley (Photograph: Patrick Comerford, 2013)
As I walk around Rethymnon this week, I notice the names of many of the 12 families on the streetnames, such as:
● Phokas: Nikiforou Foka, long known as the Long Alley, runs on a north-south axis, from the slopes of the Fortezza though the old town.
● Kallergis: Kallergi Street is a small street off the southern end of Arkadiou Street;
● Gavalas: Gavaladon Street is in the west of the new town;
● Chortatzis: Chortatzi is a long street leading south-east from Iroon Square;
● Melissinos: Melisinou Street on the northern edge of the old town runs beneath the Fortezza;
● Argyropoulos or Agiostephanites: Argyropoulon Street is a tiny narrow street at the northern end of end of Arkadiou Street, and there is an Agiostephaniton Street nearby;
● Vlastos: P Vlastou Street is a small street off Arkadiou Street and close to Kallergi Street, and S Vlastou Sreet is north-west of the Municipal Gardens;
. The descendants of the 12 families are found in every walk of life in Rethymnon today, and their names can be seen on plaques and doors for the practices of doctors, dentists, architects and managers, and on shopfronts.
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