Thinking Greek!

I think I aught to try and fit some Greek into my weekly schedule, so to start me off I am reading out loud a poem I wrote in Greek. I am missing my lessons with the lovely Manolis, but I am glad to report that I have not totally forgotten how to speak Greek. I have my text book here in England, so it is just a matter of making time to study. Now let's see, maybe in between, cello practice and singing practice, or how about half an hour a day before blogging, no, wait a minute, I've got it, I'll shop on line and the time I save I will devote to Greek. There is always a solution. Anyway, here is today's effort, just to get me started.



Meanwhile, in Vrahassi, David tells me that he popped down to Yanni's for a bite to eat the other night. All is quiet in the village (nothing new there then) and the sun is shining.

The Animal Protection trans Europe van broke down in Italy, and there is a delay in sending Phoebe to the Isle of Man. David says he hopes it wasn't him that did that, because Phoebe is such good company. I'm sure it wasn't, and I am very sorry to hear of the breakdown. We are so happy to see that Percy and Maisie are so well settled and looking so happy.

And on the arty front, I think this exhibition will be worth taking a look at. I presume the apostrophe 's' in the main body of the report is a mistake in translation, get by it and look at the beauty of Nelly's work.

Out-of-town showcase of Nelly's photographs hits the spot

By Sandra Voulgari

A new exhibition of photographs by Nelly's, organized by the Benaki Museum's Photographic Archive and the Fotograficus art company, seems to have found the perfect loctation in the Long Room, a venue in Pikermi, east of Athens, that resembles a 16th-century monastery and is set amid lush greenery.

Photographs of nude dancers in the Parthenon – which had shocked the public at their first unveiling – muscular athletes resembling ancient Greek statues, details of sculptures and daily scenes from the historical Athenian neighborhood of Plaka are Nelly's signature works.

The Pikermi exhibition, which has been put together by Ioanna Vasdeki and Jeff Vanderpool, comprises some 60 works by the photographer, who is also known by her real name, Elli Souyioultzoglou-Seraidari, making for a comprehensive approach to the body of her work.

Nelly's (1899-1998) came from a wealthy Greek family in Asia Minor and studied photography in Dresden in 1921 beside acclaimed German photographers Hugo Erfurth and Franz Fiedler.

She moved to Athens in 1924 following her family's expulsion from Turkey and focused her lens on themes that she saw as being purely Greek. Her portraits of people from all walks of life, and especially of high society, have provided us with valuable information concerning Greek society in the inter-war years, but her most famous pieces are those of ancient monuments elevated to symbols of magnificence and her bold shots of dancers on the Parthenon, odes to the female body and the embodiment of the classical ideals of beauty and fitness.

In the Greek countryside, Nelly's saw bucolic beauty all around and emphasized the harmonious coexistence of man with nature, while in the United States, where she spent 25 years of her life, she experimented with color and advertising photography.

The exhibition on Nelly's runs through June 23 at the Long Room (Adamopoulou Street, 19th kilometer of Marathon Avenue heading from Athens, left at the Drafi turning). For information, call 211.184.1997. Opening hours are Saturday and Sunday from noon to 8 p.m.

Talk some more soon,

Love Jane x

Odysseus Elytis - This Wind That Loiters

THIS WIND THAT LOITERS…

This wind that loiters among the quinces

This insect that sucks the vines

This stone that the scorpion wears next to his skin 

And these sheaves on the threshing floor

That play the giant to small barefoot children

The images of the

Resurrection

On walls that the pine trees scratched with their fingers

This whitewash that carries the noon-day on its back 

And the cicadas, the cicadas in the ears of the trees

Great summer of chalk

Great summer of cork

The red sails slanting in gusts of wind 

On the sea-floor white creatures, sponges

Accordions of the rocks

Perch from the fingers even of bad fishermen

Proud reefs on the fishing lines of the sun

No one will tell our fate, and that is that,

We ourselves will tell the sun’s fate, and that is that.

© Translation: Edmund Keeley and Philip Sherrard 

From: Sun the first 

I like this poem very much. Odysseus Elytis was born in Heraklion in 1911 and died in Athens in 1996. In 1979 he was awarded the Nobel Prize for literature. Most of his poetry is very difficult to understand, even in translation, so I was pleased to come across this one. 

I hope you like it,

Love Jane x

Poetry and Politics

Poetry and politics

By Pantelis Boukalas for The Ekathimerini Newspaper.
Could it be that our political leaders have suddenly developed a soft spot for Russian poet Vladimir Mayakovsky and decided to adopt his clear warning?
It sounds implausible. Nevertheless, their New Year’s messages urging us to take our fate into our own hands were reminiscent of some words we used to hear in the early years after the fall of the 1967-74 military dictatorship in Greece: “The future will not come of its own accord; we must take measures.”
If I say implausible, it’s because no members of a ruling elite would adopt the words of a revolutionary with ease. Particularly for the leadership of the Greek Communist Party (which should in theory be fans of Mayakovsky), a “cursed” poet will always be cursed -- at least until he or she has been rehabilitated, as it were -- especially a poet who committed suicide as a result of his “defeatism.”
Rather, it would make more sense to say that the New Year’s messages of Greece’s political leaders were influenced by a homegrown poet, Odysseas Elytis, especially his early period, when he felt strong enough to say: “One and two: No one will speak our fate. One and two: We shall speak the sun’s fate.”
But again, the worn-out, dry words that constitute a national address can hardly bear any relationship to poetry. For what can be the connection between the art of poetry which, being a complete stranger to limits, tries to purify words and ratify their deeper meaning, with the so-called “art of the possible,” an art which abuses and corrupts precious words and the ideas they seek to convey?
Who can talk about “direct democracy” with a straight face after George Papandreou’s ridiculous treatment of the concept? And, similarly, who will dare to talk about “transcendence” following Antonis Samaras’s use of the word in the past (it is no coincidence that the New Democracy chief has shed the word from his political vocabulary).
In any case, the New Year’s messages saw our political leaders stand in front of the camera, put on their fake smiles and read out a brief essay as if they were students taking part in a national exam.
Virtually all of them urged us to “take fate into our own hands.” They most likely meant that we ought to vote for them in the coming elections, given that each of them is sober enough to pose as the most efficient administrator of our collective fate.
But taking one’s fate into one’s own hands via a representative, in fact via a representative who will soon forget who he represents and for what reason, has no meaning whatsoever, be it in poetry or politics.

POET ROGER McGOUGH IN CRETE

Well, this was a turn up for the books! Here I am with the Patron Saint of Poetry (according to Carol Ann Duffy) Roger McGough. It was an opportunity that I could not pass up on. When I heard that he was to give a poetry reading, I immediately organized a ticket for the event. The poetry workshop which I was lucky enough to attend was a real bonus. David and I went over to Vamos, near Xania, for the weekend, where we caught the last few days of their Art Festival. It was a great weekend. For those of you who may not be into poetry, Roger used to be a member of a group called The Scaffold, remember Lilly the Pink? He has since been awarded a CBE and OBE for his services to poetry. Esteemed company indeed! If you are able to listen in to Radio 4 you will hear Roger presenting the programme, Poetry Please. So, that was my weekend, I hope yours was as enjoyable. This week I have to catch up with my cello practice in and amongst my writing. Village news is a bit thin, but about a week ago, Lefteris and Stella had their third child, a little boy. Otherwise the village is quiet, we would never know that there were tourists on Crete if we didn't leave Vrahassi now and then. I suppose the weather is the main talking point. It is still a bit chilly, and damp, rain is forcast again for tomorrow. My next door neighbour says that it is going to be the same throughout June and July. Let's hope not. I have some personal news too - our daughter, Joanne, has completed her University course, and will graduate in October. Well done that girl! A happy Bank Holiday to all. Talk again soon. Love Jane x

ITHACA - KAVAFIS

I love this poem by Constantine P. Cavafy (1863-1933). Hope you like it too. Happy Sunday, love Jane x