ISLAND ART GUIDES:Salamis, My Island …

“To exorcise what I fear and to love what I hate…” is a lyric that has always represented me. In this tribute to Salamis Island, it holds even greater meaning today, as through a personal journey and familiarization—along difficult and treacherous paths—discovering the bright spots over time led to coexistence, dialogue, and ultimately a redeeming liberation. This operates like Marcel Duchamp’s “The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even”, projecting onto its small-yet-large surface stories, collages of stories or Fiction writings from those of us who travel together—sailing alongside one another—in the same river of art. That is why the first part of the tribute to Salamis begins with 4 artists who have their studios in Salamina and consciously choose to reside in a place that deeply inspires them…

By Efi Michalarou
Photos: Efi Michalarou & Artists’ Archive

 

CHARIS CHARALAMBIDIS

I love Salamis; I used to go there as a child with my father, who was a professional photographer and would tell me about Ajax. Many years later—7 years ago—I created the statue of Ajax in Aianteio.
The triremes I make stem from the inspiration I get from the area. We had bought a small plot of land here in Kolones, very close to the Circular Burial Monument, and as soon as electricity arrived 50 years ago, we moved here permanently from the center of Athens where we lived. Although I am an Athenian born and bred—I was born on Agiou Markou Street—the fact that I have engaged with the Naval Battle of Salamis and all related subjects as an artist stems from my love and interest in Salamina and its history.
When we first came to this area, which is called Kolones after the Mongos lighthouse, the entire place was full of antiquities. I remember as a child that all the surrounding plots had ancient relics scattered everywhere. I grew up with these; they are a source of inspiration for me, and I wouldn’t trade them or Salamina for anything.
As for my work, I practice a craft that is now hard to find since all the workshops have closed down. As you remember, I also closed my own workshop and showroom in the center of Athens on Charilaou Trikoupi Street several years ago.
The history of my art form dates back 3,000 years—it is the lost-wax casting method. That is how all bronze statues were made in the past, and that is how I crafted my own statues, furniture, and objects. Nowadays, people’s tastes have changed, which is why our art is slowly fading away…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maria Genitsariou

I came to Salamis, specifically to Kolones, as a summer vacationer in 2011 and as a permanent resident in 2019. I was looking to escape the increasingly chaotic feel of the city, upgrade my daily quality of life, and, most importantly, find a space where the conditions would improve my levels of focus and creativity—which I needed to work on my art without losing immediate access to the urban center.
I am a visual calligrapher. Doing calligraphy and manuscript illumination properly requires quiet and good light, two elements that are now hard to come by in urban areas. Proximity to the sea, an open horizon, the clarity of the light, and the quietness of the open landscape (August excluded, of course!) are the main qualities I love. For these, I compromise on existing drawbacks, such as the unfortunate lack of basic infrastructure and reduced bus service. Sadly, these issues keep Salamis very low on people’s list of choices for visiting or moving to. However, I believe its good qualities clearly outweigh the rest.
Salamis is an amalgam of disparate elements that prevents it from creating and projecting a clear identity; at the same time, however, this pandemonium of impressions creates a sense of freedom and a return to a more relaxed past that has ceased to exist elsewhere.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Panos Papasoteriou

As a photographer, I believe that the images I choose to capture stem from the music I listen to, the books I read, and the movies I watch. Even more decisive, however, are my experiences and life events.
This thought takes me back to my childhood years in Salamis during the ’70s and ’80s. An island with a rich history, tradition, and significant activity in fishing, agriculture, and livestock farming. I want to share these memories of Salamis with you, as I remember them through images, sounds, and scents:
Grandmothers in traditional dress, the sound of their babouches as they walked, houses with shared courtyards, basil and mint growing in tin cans, grocery stores with bulk goods in sacks and containers. The mesh bag or canvas tote our mothers would give us to go do the shopping. Trahanas spread out under mesh screens to dry, the vegetable patch in gardens or plots with our harvest. The paper-thin dough my grandmother rolled out to make fried dough, pumpkin pie, or other delicacies. The sea and the deep dives in the summer, where—because we lived far away—we would go riding in the back of a pickup truck. Endless bicycle rides on Saturdays, literally miles of trails and adventure. Battles in the hills with neighboring kids from the next district. Games until dusk in the open fields. The warty venuses, the Noah’s ark shells, the mussels we dived for to collect with my uncle or father when my mother wanted to make saganaki or mussel fritters in the evening. The little octopus dish served with non-carbonated orangeade that was offered as a treat in the ouzo bars during our Friday outings. The monthly shopping trip to Piraeus and the ride on the wooden boats. The livestock slaughterer making his rounds every Holy Week. The animal rennet hanging on the dairy wall. The huge barrels with feta cheese curing inside. The poultry farm with its non-stop cackling, the sheepfolds with hundreds of sheep grazing freely and the sheepdog hot on their heels so they wouldn’t stray too far into danger. The smell of honey and cinnamon on loukoumades (Greek honey donuts) and the night-blooming jasmine at night. The summers we slept on folding cots in the yard under the stars. The ice cream vendor passing through the neighborhoods on his tricycle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Maria Zygomala

For me, Salamis Island is not just a place. It is a space filled with history, memories, images, and emotions. The island combines the sea, nature, everyday life, and the past, creating an environment that inspires me artistically. Every corner of it can become a reason for observation and creation.
Its sea has a special significance. The light changing over the water, the reflections, the colors of the sky, and the movement of the waves continuously create new images. Some times the sea brings me peace, and at other times it makes me thing on the power of time and history. Through it, I feel the connection between the past and the present.
The island’s history, especially the Naval Battle of Salamis, is an important source of inspiration. People’s memories, struggles, losses, and the power of survival can be transformed into images, symbols, and artworks. I am interested in connecting historical elements with modern life, and the past with the present.
Salamis inspires me even through its contrasts: the tranquility of nature alongside a strong human presence, the old next to the new, beauty beside decay. All of this helps me observe more carefully and express my thoughts and feelings through Art. For me, Salamina is a place of memory, life, and creative inspiration.
Inspiration arrives where the visible meets the invisible. For me, the artwork begins even before the image exists. It starts with a feeling, an internal shift, a question. And then comes the means of expression. Color, fabric, clay, plaster, metal, light, photography, objects. Media that shift from their original meaning and gain a new life. Clay connects me to the earth and the gesture of creation; it receives the footprint, the form, the pressure, and the transformation.