Kalamata has received a major international distinction, as the mural by visual artist Kleomenis Kostopoulos, depicting Maria Callas on the central Aristomenous Street, was named the best in the world for 2025 by the international institution Street Art Cities. The artwork adorns the city center and has already become a landmark for residents and visitors alike. Through a dynamic artistic approach, the image of the great opera diva Maria Callas is brought to life in a public space, linking street art with contemporary Greek culture.

According to Street Art Cities, “Kalamata just made street art history. @kle_omenis monumental Maria Callas mural has been voted Street Art Cities Best Of 2025, making it the first Greek winner ever. For artist Kleomenis Kostopoulos, this work is a living narrative about place, memory, and cultural continuity.” “Callas isn’t a commemorative portrait, but a symbolic presence, a body carrying culture between past and present,” he says. Nature, roots, fruit, birds: symbols of identity born from the land and the people who inhabit it. The public response was overwhelming. “When a work in public space is embraced like this, you realise it no longer belongs to you, but to the people who live with it,” KLE shares”.

 (Source: Street Art Cities)

“Street Art Cities felt that power too: “Seeing Greece rally behind this mural was incredible. The passion and pride showed how strong the collective voice can be. We will soon visit to hand the award and see this monumental mural in person" shares Tiny Tim one of the co-founders. For KLE, the win is “a moment of gratitude, not a finish line, but motivation to keep working with responsibility toward the public space.” For Kalamata, it’s a reminder that cities can engage with contemporary culture without losing themselves. A mural rooted in place. A community that showed up. A historic first for Greece.” 

(Source: Kleomenis Kostopoulos)

Speaking earlier to Athens-Macedonian News Agency, the creator of the mural, Kleomenis Kostopoulos noted: “The Street Art Cities platform manages around 80,000–85,000 murals worldwide, across approximately 2,000 cities. They approached me and asked whether I would like my work to participate in the competition that selects the best mural of each month, for November”. The public vote did indeed select the work ‘Kalamata’ as the best mural of November 2025, which automatically qualified it as a nominee for the best artwork of the year.

Mural by Kleomenis Kostopoulos in Patras (2022), commemorating the Greek Righteous Among the Nations and the rescue of the Jews of Zakynthos. The mural depicts the Mayor of Zakynthos, Loukas Karrer, the Metropolitan of Zakynthos, Chrysostomos, and Hermandos Mordos with his wife Eftychia and their four children, Rebecca (Becky), Samuel, Moses, and Nina (Source: The Jewish Community of Athens)

The artist himself did not begin in street art. “I am a visual artist and painter,” he says, describing a path that included studies in Athens, nearly a decade in Germany, and ultimately a return to his hometown of Patras. There, as he explains, he felt the need to activate the contemporary cultural landscape in a city and a country which, as he puts it, “have unfortunately been in decline in recent years and are at a very critical point.”

Murals of ArtWalk in Patras: “IN CHAOS FIND JOY” by SOTEUR & The Flying Dolphins, Korinthou 406, Patras 2023(upper left), “Another Bad Hair Day” by D*Face, Korinthou 50, Patras 2022(upper right), “A New Dionysus” by Mon Devane, Skagiopouliou 32, Patras 2022 (lower left), “Jacob’s ladder” by Leonidas Giannakopoulos, Evdimou 4, Patras 2022(lower right)

This need gave rise to Art in Progress, the non-profit organization he founded, as well as a series of international festivals: Re-culture and later ArtWalk, an international mural festival that is currently in the process of holding its 11^th edition. “We have completed 78 large-scale murals in Patras. It may be one of the most recognized festivals in Europe and beyond,” he notes. Through this process came his personal engagement with art in public space. “I was never a street artist. Through the festival, I observed how my fellow artists created these ‘magical’ works on such large scales. That’s how my own involvement with murals began, in 2018,” he explains.

 (Source: Kleomenis Kostopoulos)

“Kalamata was a special case. The work emerged after many discussions with the Municipality, in a city that—according to the artist—was attempting such a central intervention in public space for the first time. “Out of absolute respect for public space, and for the fact that the city was entering the process of acquiring its first mural in such a central location, I wanted to engage with the very face of the city. To depict Kalamata itself,” explains Kleomenis Kostopoulos. “Thus, the choice of Maria Callas was not intended as a tribute to her person, but as a symbolic vehicle. Kalamata had to be a female figure. And because it is an outward-looking city, with tourism and an international audience that visits it, I felt that Callas—also due to a distant ancestral connection—could function as a representative figure,” he notes.

Working during the implementation of the project (Source: urbanjoy.gr)

Although the work was initially “misinterpreted” as a simple portrait, the artist clarifies that “this is not a portrait of Callas, but a portrait of Kalamata.” The mural is, in fact, filled with multi-layered symbolism: life and death, roots and evolution, natural wealth and human loss. On the seabed, for example, the businessman Papadimitriou is depicted swimming—an individual who linked his name to the city’s local products and passed away prematurely. “That’s what is beautiful about art in public space,” he says, explaining that the building itself is experientially connected to this story, as it was where the businessman once lived.

The trees behind the figure lack dense foliage, alluding to a “tragic element,” while the birds—from those with melodious songs to the crow—complete the cycle of life. Even the choice of the photograph of Callas is deliberately “more human, more worn,” far removed from the stylized images of the diva. Finally, the dress functions as a reference to agricultural products and the productive identity of the region.

Working during the implementation of the project. Photo: Dimitris Neofotistos/Street Art: KLE (Source: urbanjoy.gr)

The realization of the project was anything but easy. It began in late October 2025, with weather conditions forcing interruptions due to rainfall, and was ultimately completed in November 2025. Shortly afterward came the international recognition, and “Kalamata” is now competing in the major vote for the best artwork of 2025, facing cities and countries with long traditions in street art and significant international reach. However, the message conveyed by the artist goes beyond personal distinction, serving as evidence of the dynamism of contemporary Greek art.

Street art in Greece is a vibrant formof expression. Especially in cities like Athens and Thessaloniki, murals and graffiti reflect themes such as history, identity, and everyday urban life. Influenced by both local traditions and international movements, Greek street art has transformed public spaces into open-air galleries and has become an important voice for contemporary social commentary.

The Street Art Cities platform lists 574 street art masterpieces in Athens: https://streetartcities.com/cities/athens

Read also:

Kalamata International Dance Festival Unveils its Bold New Vision

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The painting exhibition “Alexander the Great – Back to Egypt” was inaugurated in Alexandria on 13 December 2025, constituting a cultural event of high symbolic significance dedicated to the timeless figure of Alexander the Great, founder of Alexandria and a universal emblem of intercultural dialogue. The exhibition presents 53 works by the internationally acclaimed Greek artist and architect Makis Warlamis (1942–2016), including large-scale paintings, sculptures, and complex visual compositions. Through a contemporary artistic approach, the works highlight Alexander the Great not merely as a historical figure, but as a universal symbol of knowledge, creativity, and the synthesis of civilizations.

The exhibition is hosted at the Bibliotheca Alexandrina under the auspices of the Embassy of Greece in Cairo, the Hellenic Ministry of National Defence, the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki, and the Association of Greek Regions (ENPE). It is organized in cooperation between the Bibliotheca Alexandrina and the Experimental Workshop of Vergina, the Central Union of Municipalities of Greece (KEDE), the Hellenic Research Institute of Alexandrian Civilization, and the Waldviertel Art Museum, Austria.

At the opening ceremony, Dr Ahmed A. Zayed, Director of the Bibliotheca Alexandrina, referred to the historic role of the ancient Library of Alexandria. He emphasized that the modern Library constitutes the intellectual and cultural continuation of its ancient predecessor, carrying forward its mission as a global centre of knowledge. Special reference was made to the hosting of the Αlexandria Center for Hellenistic Studies which, inspired by the spirit of the Hellenistic era, offers a postgraduate programme in cooperation with Alexandria University.

The Ambassador of Greece to Cairo, Mr Nikolaos Papageorgiou, expressed his deep emotion at the realization of the exhibition, describing it as the “return” of Alexander the Great to the city he founded and cherished. He recalled that works by Warlamis had been presented in Cairo during the 1990s; however, their exhibition in Alexandria carries particular significance, as no other city is so closely linked to Hellenism. He further emphasized that Greek–Egyptian relations are currently at their highest level, serving as a model of cooperation and mutual respect in the Eastern Mediterranean.

Mr Pavlos Trochopoulos, Director of the Experimental Workshop of Vergina, described the exhibition as a cultural and human encounter between Greece and Egypt, highlighting the participation of a large Greek delegation that travelled specifically for the event. He referred to the profound human dimension of Makis Warlamis’ work, stressing that his art brings to the fore values such as kindness, love, and selfless offering to one’s fellow human being. He underlined that, through Warlamis’ perspective, Alexander is not merely a historical figure but an idea embodying tolerance, respect for diversity, and the unity of humanity, inviting each visitor to discover their own “Alexander”.

The Governor of Alexandria, Mr Ahmed Khaled Hassan Said, highlighted that the city honours through the exhibition a historic figure who left an indelible mark on world history and on the very character of Alexandria itself. He emphasized that the 53 works of Makis Warlamis convey a clear message of peace, coexistence, and mutual understanding, values intrinsically linked to the city’s identity. He also recalled that the founding of Alexandria in 331 B.C. was no accident, but the result of Alexander’s vision, creating a city that served as a bridge between East and West and as a global capital of knowledge and culture.

Τhere followed a roundtable discussion titled “Alexander between the Legend and the City”, coordinated by Professor Mona Haggag, President of the Archaeological Society of Alexandria. She illustrated how Alexander’s achievements transformed him from a historical figure into an almost mythical symbol, with Alexandria ideally embodying this convergence of history and legend. Professor Mohamed Abd El Ghani, Professor of Greek and Roman History, referred to the relationship between Alexander the Great and Egypt, analysing the political and religious circumstances that enabled his peaceful entry into the country in 332 B.C. Ms Kalliopi Papakosta, Director of the Hellenic Research Institute of Alexandrian Civilization, emphasized that Alexander was a transformative force in human history and that Alexandria represents the purest expression of the Hellenistic spirit. Finally, Ms Sofia Avgerinou-Kolonia, Emeritus Professor of the National Technical University of Athens, spoke about the uniqueness of Alexandria as a city of knowledge, science, and culture. She emphasized that although Alexander did not live to see the city completed, his vision indelibly shaped its trajectory through the centuries.

© Selected photos: Experimental Workshop of Vergina https://warlamis.gr/

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Despina Konstantinides Cushing is a New York–based artist of Greek descent, renowned for her large-scale abstract and figurative contemporary landscape paintings that explore metaphysical inner spaces. Her paintings occupy the charged space between landscape and abstraction, where color, gesture, and form dissolve the boundaries of perception. Her painterly language fuses luminosity and introspection as she approaches the canvas as a site of inquiry—where form, color, and gesture reveal what words cannot. 

Despina K. Cushing invites viewers into a contemplative space where painting becomes an act of presence. They are invited not simply to see, but to inhabit—to dwell in the space between observation and introspection, where painting becomes both a world and a mirror, and the act of looking becomes an act of being. Her works are not depictions of places so much as meditations suggesting that true dwelling begins inwardly, in the stillness of perception and sincerity of soul.

Her landscapes resonate with sacred architecture and contemplative practice. They are neither purely representational nor abstract—they exist as spaces where philosophical inquiry, painterly experimentation, and metaphysical reflection converge, offering viewers a chance to dwell within both the painting and themselves. Rooted in her background in philosophy, Cushing paints not what she sees but what she knows through the mind’s eye—a sincerity of touch that turns pigment into presence. 

Despina Konstantinides has earned a degree in philosophy from Trinity College, she pursued an MFA in painting from Indiana University. Her artwork is featured in prominent collections, including the Consulate of Greece in New York, the AIG Corporate Art Collection, The Delson, the George T. Douris Tower, and numerous private collections. Additionally, her work has been recognized on HBO’s hit show Divorce.

In an interview with Greek News Agenda*, Despina Konstantinides reflects on painting as an intuitive, improvisational process that balances landscape and abstraction to dissolve boundaries between inner and outer worlds, inviting both artist and viewer into a shared experience of presence and existential openness.

Your landscapes feel like they exist somewhere between the external world and an inner, rather metaphysical space. How do you balance abstraction and landscape in your work?

The balance comes naturally—abstraction and landscape need each other. The landscape image gives the viewer something to hold onto, a point of entry or anchor into the work, while the abstraction is where the takeoff occurs. 

In an exhibition catalog essay from a previous show, Dr. Jennifer Samet wrote that my work “establishes a relation between losing oneself in nature and losing oneself in the process of painting.” I thought that was very well put, because it captures the play you mention between inner and outer worlds, between abstraction and figuration, and that blurring of thresholds is something of great interest to me.

Your creative process is mostly based on observation, memory or improvisation?

It’s closest to improvisation. I think of it as having an experience while painting, with the painting itself becoming a physical record of that experience. You paint, and suddenly a small section of the work begins to breathe on its own—that’s when the creative process begins. By “begins,” I mean a trust develops with the painting, and it shows you what it needs. 

You are there to serve the painting. There’s no pre-intention, no thought like, “Wouldn’t it be interesting if I made the sky red?” If the sky is red, it’s because that’s what the painting needed. Creativity, to me, is learning to listen to the painting instead of listening to myself.

How has your background in philosophy influenced your painting practice?

John Dewey’s idea of art as experience has always fascinated me—the sense that you can lose the boundary between where you end and the world begins. An experience isn’t something you can simply name or describe; it’s something that transforms you. That dissolving of boundaries is what makes transformation possible and wherein art lies.

The title of your solo show, That which dwells, suggests a deep sense of presence. How do you see the act of “dwelling” reflected in your painting?

The title comes from a line in a Hölderlin poem: “reluctant to leave the place, is that which dwells near the origin.” To me, it’s about completely letting go. The closer you are—through meditation or a certain state of mind—to the unknown, the harder it is to release the everyday self, the part that clings to facts and definitions.

The paintings are not direct copies of landscapes; they are dwellings in the sense that they are concerned with being fully present—to dissolve boundaries and create a relationship with the viewer. They are more interested in the act of creativity than in depiction, and being fully present, to me, involves exactly that.

In my recent show, St. Francis in Ecstasy, I take this idea further, creating a contemplative space where viewers can engage with the work while being surrounded by the landscape visible through the windows.

Looking back on your evolution as an artist, what moments or works of art that stand out as turning points in finding your own voice?

In grad school, the summer between the two-year MFA program, I spent time in Florence, Italy. There, I made oil pastels from life—works on paper—and my approach shifted from strictly representational to getting lost in the process of making the work.

Those pieces changed the course of my practice. Before that, I had been focused on simply copying nature—you know, getting the light right, the perspective, the color. When I returned from studying abroad, I made a few paintings that were in my mind—my first paintings, in a way. I had been looking at the work of Frank Auerbach and how he spoke about making his first painting, and I was intrigued by the idea. Beforehand, I didn’t even know what a painting was. I hadn’t questioned it beyond getting the light, value, and composition—all the formal qualities right—but I hadn’t thought about form itself. I began to think about what it means to find your own hand, your own voice, in a painting, and what it means when a painting references the real world but still  holds its own.

What is the drive behind painting and what is the ultimate goal?

My drive has always been the same: to catch that fleeting glimpse of the greater existential unknown. To hover at the standstill between knowing what it means to exist and not knowing—entering that mystery again and again. Not because you’re ever going to solve it, but because the journey itself changes you.

The goal is to feel understood: to feel seen by the artwork. And when that happens, you open up. That’s where boundaries dissolve. That’s when the painting really begins to do its work. Paintings are like people. The ones you can’t shake off are the ones that have made you feel seen. And when you think of all great artworks that stay with you, it’s because they’ve done exactly that.

*Interview by Dora Trogadi

Artist's portrait photo credit: Jinnifer Douglass

Paintings photo credit: Jason Mandella

The post Despina K. Cushing: “Creativity, to me, is learning to listen to the painting instead of listening to myself” appeared first on Greek News Agenda.

Pavlina Vagioni’s artistic practice unfolds at the intersection of mythology, language, psychology, and material experimentation. Working across sculpture, installation, sound, video, and digital media, she approaches ancient myths not as historical narratives but as living symbolic systems—repositories of archetypes that continue to shape contemporary experience. Her work draws deeply from classical sources, etymology, and Jungian thought, translating research into immersive environments where form, sound, and material act as carriers of meaning. 

Central to her practice is the belief that language and matter are inseparable. Words, sounds, and materials are treated as active forces—capable of awakening memory, triggering recognition, and revealing hidden structures of identity and transformation. Living between Athens and Houston, Vagioni’s work is shaped by a dynamic dialogue between rootedness and distance, memory and experimentation. 

Paulina Vagioni (b. 1975, Athens, Greece) studied painting, sculpture, ceramics, and scenography at the Athens School of Fine Arts, graduating with highest honors at the postgraduate level in 2016. She also trained for over a decade as a classical soprano soloist, studying piano, music theory, and composition—an interdisciplinary background that continues to inform her practice.

Her work is included in the permanent collection of MOMus—Museum of Contemporary Art in Thessaloniki and has been awarded the Jury Prize by the Lawndale Art Center in Houston. She has held solo exhibitions at Opening Gallery (New York), Carillon Gallery (Fort Worth), TANK Space (Houston), and Kappatos Gallery (Athens), with an upcoming exhibition at Tube Factory Artspace (Indianapolis).

Her interview with Greek News Agenda* offers insight into her research-driven yet intuitive process, her engagement with myth as a universal psychological language and transformative force—one that continues to speak to the complexities of contemporary identity and human consciousness.

As an artist, you work in an interdisciplinary way. What role does research play in your work?

My process always begins with research. I usually start by studying passages from Ogygia by Athanasios Stagirites that relate to the subject I am exploring at a given moment. This 19th-century work compiles Mediterranean mythology in remarkable detail, drawing from both ancient and later sources. It is a true treasure: it has never been translated and remains largely unknown outside Greece. Within it, I often encounter versions of myths that have been lost or significantly altered in modern retellings.

My research, however, is not limited to philology. It extends into Jungian psychology and the interpretation of myths as archetypes and symbolic systems. From there, a process of translation begins: how an idea can become form, color, fabric, or sound. One example is the Kerkis works from the Athena series. While studying the ancient weaving tool, I discovered that the sound it produced closely resembled that of insects. This sonic association led me to create works with symmetrical forms that can be read as both anthropomorphic and insect-like.

In essence, I am not interested in retelling a myth, but in creating the conditions for an encounter with it—allowing the viewer to come into contact with what the myth reveals about human experience.

How do etymology and language become integrated into your work?

Language is always my starting point. I am deeply interested in etymology, because it is where a word’s original meaning resides, before it becomes obscured by layers of interpretation. Antisthenes said, “Wisdom is to be found in the investigation of names,” and I fully agree: a word often reveals the deeper essence of the thing it names.

A characteristic example is Medusa. Her name derives from the verb μέδω, meaning “to govern” or “to protect.” This etymology creates a fascinating paradox: Medusa bears a name associated with protection, yet she is represented as a monster who must be destroyed. The paradox becomes clearer when we recall the apotropaic function of the Gorgoneion in ancient Greece, where her image was used as a protective symbol on temples, houses, and shields. The gaze that petrified the enemy was transformed into a force of protection.

This insight became the starting point for a series of works in which the myth is inverted: snakes with bodies made of braided synthetic hair and heads of cast aluminum shaped like hands mimicking snakes. From a distance, the work appears threatening; up close, it reveals a marionette-like construction. The viewer is invited to ask: what is it that we truly fear?

Another example is the installation Proteus Within, where this linguistic logic is translated into sound. The composition is based on the musical notes E–C–C–E, which in the Anglo-Saxon system correspond to the Greek Mi–Do–Do–Mi and spell the Latin word ECCE, meaning “behold.” “Behold” alludes to Proteus, the god who constantly changes form. It is an invitation to look beyond transformation and recognize essence within change. Sound, voice, and word become a single body—a linguistic experience that activates sensation and thought simultaneously.

Archetypal figures from Greek mythology often inspire your work (Medusa, Sirens). What leads you to reinterpret these mythic figures? What qualities make them timelessly relevant?

My relationship with myths is both personal and profound. Through my journey in psychoanalysis, I came to understand that myths are not distant narratives, but living systems of transformation. They reflect inner states, fears, desires, and our need to make sense of what cannot be fully understood.

Carl Jung described archetypes and symbols as ways through which the psyche communicates the unconscious to consciousness. In this sense, myths function as mirrors of ourselves. They are timeless because they articulate our inner structure; the archetypes they contain act as guides in the psyche’s evolutionary process.

Medusa represents fear. Proteus, the eternally transforming god, embodies the fluidity of identity in the contemporary world—an experience amplified through our digital selves. It is noteworthy that a research at Stanford titled The Proteus Effect examines how digital identities influence behavior. Chiron, in turn, symbolizes healing through empathy.

I do not approach myths as something “ancient” or exclusively “Greek,” but as a global archive of human experience that speaks directly to the present. Myths survive because they remain open to reinterpretation. When an artist approaches them anew, they do not revive them—they activate them. Each time someone recognizes a part of themselves within a myth, it comes alive again.

How does materiality activate memory in your work?

For me, material is never neutral. Every material carries meaning, whether through direct reference or symbolic resonance. In the sculpture Chiron, for example, the horse’s skin resembles human skin, while the stitching with wire thread evokes sutured wounds. It is simultaneously body and trace of healing—a material metaphor for the relationship between pain and care.

In Kerkis, memory is embedded in the very act of weaving. The knitted and embroidered elements come from different techniques created by other women, which I incorporated into the works. This collective manual labor—the touch of many hands—carries with it a memory of community, continuity, and female creation.

Memory is born through sensory experience and completed in consciousness. Although each work is grounded in research, the act of making unfolds through a more intuitive, almost alchemical process. The work first communicates through color, form, and texture, and only later—if the viewer chooses—reveals its conceptual layers.

Music, sound, and digital media are integrated into your work. How do they expand the viewer’s experience?

Having studied classical singing for over a decade, I use my voice not as a vehicle for musical performance, but as material that connects sound to body and space. Sound, light, and digital media are forms of matter. I treat them not as supplementary elements, but as active agents that shape perception and convey meaning beyond language.

In Fuga delle Sirene, the video component of the installation Isle of the Sirens, my voice is combined with recordings of seascapes, birds, and whales, creating an immersive environment. The work also included an interactive performance in which visitors’ faces were reflected onto the masks of performers who followed them. This mirrored the psychological mechanism of the mythic Sirens, who called sailors by name—a moment of recognition and identification.

In Proteus Within, kinetic lighting creates the illusion of a continuous transformation from sea to fire: a dark, fluid surface dissolving into golden flames, symbolizing both Proteus’s mutability and the fluid nature of human identity. Light is never static; it transforms space and perception.

This orchestration of sound, light, and image shares a structural affinity with music. Music unfolds over time, while an image is grasped instantaneously—yet both rely on rhythm, intensity, and silence. Through their convergence, the viewer does not simply observe the work, but experiences it holistically—with body, memory, and consciousness.

You moved to Houston, USA, a few years ago. How has this relocation influenced you as an artist?

Houston is a multicultural city, full of energy, that encourages experimentation and constant renewal. There, I encountered people from diverse cultural backgrounds, an experience that expanded the way I understand creation and collaboration. Life in Houston gave me the freedom to rethink my practice from the ground up. The distance—both geographical and psychological—created the space to experiment without feeling constrained by expectations.

A significant milestone in my trajectory was the realization of my first large-scale public work in Houston: an eight-meter installation for the ION building. I collaborated closely with engineers and technicians at the ION Prototyping Labs, using technologies such as laser cutting. The difference in working rhythm was striking. In the United States, planning begins much earlier, a shift that provided me with valuable tools for managing complex, large-scale projects.

Athens, by contrast, is the place of memory and inner processing. It is where I return to deepen my work. This oscillation between distance and rootedness keeps my practice alert and alive. I now move between Athens and Houston as if between two systems of reference. One city gives me roots; the other, a horizon. Somewhere between them, the space where I truly create takes shape.

*Interview by Dora Trogadi

The post Pavlina Vagioni: Reimagining Myth Today appeared first on Greek News Agenda.

Manousos Manousakis’ work is deeply layered and symbolic. His incredibly intricate compositions allude to dystopian visions and hauntingly alive worlds. His main medium is ink on paper used with incredible precision in order to depict surreal worlds including labyrinths, hybrid creatures and collapsing architectures. His art evokes a sense of unease, but also wonder, revealing landscapes that seem both ancient and futuristic, mechanical yet alive.

Manousos Manousakis was born in Chania in 1997. He studied at the School of Fine Arts of the University of Ioannina, where he completed his master’s degree on the subject “Art and Public Space.” His work has been awarded and presented at Greek and international animation festivals. His artistic production consists of ink drawings on paper featuring complex figures and dystopian scenarios, which he often digitizes and transforms into short video animations to add movement and depth.

In his interview with Greek News Agenda*, Manousos Manousakis reflects on his artistic journey and the intricate, symbolic worlds he creates. He also discusses the influences that guide him, the balance between spontaneity and control in his compositions, and the unique ways audiences—both children and adults—respond to his art.

Your compositions are extremely dense and detailed. Is there any room for spontaneity during the creative process?

Before I begin a complex composition, an initial visual exploration around the theme of the project has already taken place. I already have a general visual framework for the piece, and I usually have an idea of what certain characters will look like. However, most of the smaller compositions — and by extension the final form— are built gradually.

From that point on, the creative process begins. In the beginning, that is the conception of the forms, there is a great deal of experimentation with pencil on paper. Ink is applied only once I have fully decided what I want a form to be. This stage combines spontaneity and control: on the one hand, forms emerge largely spontaneously, often without me being able to explain why something feels right or wrong. On the other hand, I will never ink something that does not satisfy me; I will redraw it again and again until it “clicks.”

When a good composition may appear and how many attempts it will take to achieve this is rather unpredictable. It is always related to the artistic explorations that have already taken place. What ultimately remains in the work is a fully conscious choice. My compositions come together to tell a larger story. So, while I begin with a general idea, it is through artistic experimentation that I gradually come to understand what the work truly wants to communicate. In fact, the conceptual dimension matures slowly as the piece evolves over months.

In your works, do you see more of yourself or the world around us?

I believe that in every work the artists inevitably reveal themselves. However, I never consciously try to depict myself. I have created only two self-portraits, and even those began as a personal challenge, simply because I had never attempted it before.

I see myself more as an observer of the worlds I create — worlds shaped through my perceptions and the “rules” I set for them. Just as a director arranges a scene without appearing in it, yet expresses their personal viewpoint through it, I am also present in my creations in an indirect way.

You create dystopian worlds, hybrid beings, and a peculiar kind of architecture. What draws you to these alternative realities?

When I decided to create a dystopian, “frightening” world, one core principle guided me: I did not want fear to come from an external threat — a monster, for instance — but from our own nature, our mind, our mortality, and the social systems we construct. Over time, I realized that what interested me most was not fear itself, but the uncanny — that unsettling feeling that arises when something familiar becomes distorted.

Through deconstructing the human form and merging it with elements from animals, plants, or objects, characters emerged who could be comic, tragic, or frightening. But I never wanted to force a specific emotion on the viewer. That’s why the term I use to describe my work now is “deconstruction”: the deconstruction of the outward image shaped both personally and socially. This is how worlds are born where every pretentious façade collapses and characters appear in their fully absurd and tragicomic nature.

What is the place of the human figure within your artistic universe?

Human beings take center stage, since these worlds revolve around them. The characters — no matter how strange or hybrid they become — always retain human features so they can communicate with the viewer. At the same time, the human figure is always portrayed as vulnerable and powerless in the face of the forces acting upon it, whether these stem from mortality or from the social systems we build.

Which artists have influenced you?

Each piece is influenced to varying degrees by different artists, but there are some I return to repeatedly. Among Japanese creators, Kentaro Miura made me fall in love with inking and showed me, through his technique, how a world can be fully rendered with it. His depiction of demons and monsters greatly inspired me. Junji Ito also opened new perspectives, making me reconsider the nature of fear.

Among European artists, I often revisit Beksiński’s work, admiring how he deconstructed the human figure and intertwined it with plant-like forms and architectural elements. I also love Giger’s dystopian compositions and the harmony of his forms. And of course, a constant influence is Hieronymus Bosch — for his medieval themes, intricate compositions, and remarkable timelessness.

What does art mean to you and how does the public respond to your work?

At its core, I believe art functions as a mirror of the creator’s perceptions and psychological profile. It achieves this mostly through exaggeration — pushing an idea or a feeling to its limits so it can be revealed in its entirety. For example, my work portrays humanity in a pessimistic, one-sided way. Yet through this process — and through the voices of many viewers — the complexity of reality gradually emerges.

A major part of art for me is the creative process itself. I like to work with loud music. I paint, then get swept up by the song that’s playing as I study the piece. In those moments, my mind feels the most active, filled with emotions and ideas rushing through it. The artwork becomes a conduit for this energy. When the artistic process works well, I see myself in my most active — most alive — version.

With great joy, I’ve noticed that viewers often spend time with the works, studying them and getting lost in the micro-compositions and details. I can’t know what each person thinks, but many who connected deeply with my work told me they saw something familiar in its dystopia — something that paradoxically calmed them. A girl once told me she stumbled upon the works while frustrated, and as she examined the details, she somehow relaxed.

My piece for Plásmata 3 at the Onassis Foundation — an outdoor exhibition at Pedion tou Areos — gave me a broader view of the audience. People stopped, looked, and took photos. But the biggest fans were the children. They tried to touch the projected characters, see where they came from, where they disappeared to. Some shouted and talked to them; others danced to the sounds the figures produced. “Mom, there’s a creature living in the wall — it’ll come out again soon,” I remember a child saying.

The characters were mostly humorous, but even the more dystopian ones appealed to the kids. Perhaps this is because children don’t perceive fear the way adults do. My work relies on symbols — for example, I don’t show an actual photograph of entrails; I draw them. The lines themselves aren’t frightening — only the associations they evoke. Children don’t yet have the experiential references to connect what they see to reality, so they are not afraid.

*Interview by Dora Trogadi

Profile photo credits: George Leonidopoulos

The post Manousos Manousakis and the Art of the Uncanny appeared first on Greek News Agenda.

The Basil & Elise Goulandris Foundation unveils one of its most ambitious exhibitions to date: From Monet to Warhol: Three Generations, One Collection, a sweeping visual narrative that traces the evolution of modern art from the late 19th century to the dawn of contemporary culture. Presented at the Goulandris Museum in Athens, from December 6, 2025 to April 11, 2026, the exhibition brings together 83 masterpieces by 45 artists, offering visitors an extraordinary opportunity to encounter works that have shaped, challenged, and redefined the very language of art.

A Panorama of Modernity

Spanning more than 130 years of artistic creation, the exhibition unfolds as a fluid journey through over a dozen pivotal movements — from the shimmering atmospheres of Impressionism to the bold ruptures of Cubism, the emotive intensities of Expressionism, the dreamscapes of Surrealism, and the vibrant iconography of Pop Art.

A Constellation of Masters

Among the exhibition’s highlights are works by some of the most revered figures of modern and contemporary art: Bonnard, Chagall, De Kooning, Degas, Dufy, Ernst, Gauguin, Kandinsky, Lichtenstein, Man Ray, Marquet, Modigliani, Morisot, Munch, Pissarro, Seurat, Signac, Toulouse-Lautrec, Vuillard, and many more.

These are presented alongside artists whose contributions, though sometimes less known to the broader public, played decisive roles in shaping the trajectory of modernity: Angrand, Anquetin, Denis, Feininger, Friesz, Hayet, Lacombe, Laugé, Pourtau, Ranson, Redon, Sérusier, Szafran, Vallotton, among others. Their presence enriches and complicates the narrative, revealing the continuity and diversity of artistic innovation.

A Rare Collection with a Singular Vision

The exhibition is made possible through the generous loan of a Swiss private collection — an exceptional ensemble formed across three generations of passionate collectors. Guided by an instinctive eye for quality and a deep reverence for the history of painting, the collection has achieved a rare harmony: intimate yet authoritative, personal yet comprehensive.

Over the years, works from this collection have been presented in major institutions around the world, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art, MoMA, the Royal Academy of Art, Tate Modern, the Musée d’Orsay, the Grand Palais, the Musée de l’Orangerie, the Peggy Guggenheim Collection, and the Beyeler Foundation. Yet this exhibition marks only the second time such a substantial portion of the collection is shown together — and the first time in Greece.

A Dialogue with the Goulandris Collection

Displayed within the museum’s distinctive architectural environment, these works enter a dynamic conversation with the Foundation’s permanent collection. Together, they emphasize the unique role of the collector — a figure who navigates intuition, knowledge, and love of art to form a cohesive narrative that transcends generations. This interplay reveals how private vision can illuminate public understanding, offering new perspectives on familiar masterpieces and uncovering hidden connections across time and style.

Curatorial Approach

The exhibition is masterfully curated by Marie Koutsomallis-Moreau, Head of Collection at the B&E Goulandris Foundation, and Marina Ferretti Bocquillon, Scientific Director Emerita of the Musée des impressionnismes Giverny.

Through their sensitive curatorial framing, the exhibition encourages visitors not only to observe but to experience the evolution of modern art — its ruptures, revolutions, and reinventions — as a living, continuous dialogue. An extensive trilingual catalogue (Greek, English, French) accompanies the exhibition, featuring detailed essays, scholarly entries, and rich visual documentation. It stands as a significant publication for researchers, students, and art enthusiasts alike.

B&E Goulandris Podcast Series

Expanding the exhibition beyond the museum walls, the Foundation presents a new five-episode chapter of the B&E Goulandris Podcasts, offering an immersive auditory journey through the exhibition.
Curators share insights into the movements and masterpieces on view, while contemporary artists — George Rorris, Andreas Kontellis, Leda Kontogiannopoulou, Andreas Georgiadis, and Manolis Anastasakos — reflect on how these historic figures shaped their own artistic paths.

Intro Photo: Louis Anquetin (1861-1932), Interior of Bruant’s club: The Mirliton, 1886-1887

Dora Trogadi

The post From Monet to Warhol: Three Generations, One Collection — A Journey Through the Evolution of Modern Art appeared first on Greek News Agenda.

The ‘Mentis’ and ‘Antonopoulos’ manufactories are among the oldest companies in the field of thread processing and the production of silk-making items, and the only workshop still operating in Greece that continue to produce ribbons, braids, tassels, fringes, and other passementerie products using traditional methods. The legacy of these two manufactories was saved thanks to a groundbreaking initiative by the Benaki Museum, which created a centre for preserving, researching and promoting ‘silken arts’ at the Athenian neighborhood of Petralona: Mentis – Antonopoulos (‘NEMA’) Passementerie. The space also hosts educational and exhibition activities, serving as a living center of intangible cultural heritage. (Photo: © Benaki Museum / Leonidas Kourgiantakis)

The Mentis – Antonopoulos (‘NEMA’) Passementerie of the Benaki Museum collaborated with the House of Dior for the Cruise 2022 collection, presented at the Panathenaic Stadium.

The Dior Cruise 2022 collection at the Acropolis. © Filmed at the Archeological Site of the Acropolis of Athens and the Odeon of Herodes Atticus.

Dior’s artistic director Maria Grazia Chiuri envisioned a celebration of creativity and craftsmanship rooted in the cultural dialogue between Greece and France. Determined to showcase the richness of contemporary Greek artistry, Dior sought to engage local creators, visual artists, and traditional artisans whose work continues to shape Greece’s cultural landscape. This vision naturally led to a partnership with the Mentis–Antonopoulos textile workshop (NEMA). During her visit to the NEMA workshop on Polyfimou Street in Petralona, Chiuri was inspired by the living tradition of Greek textile craftsmanship. As a result, Dior commissioned decorative elements for the hats featured in the show, with production carried out by the Tsalavoutas family workshop, renowned for its handmade sailors’ caps. NEMA specifically produced the twisted handmade cord adorning the brim of the traditional nautical cap reimagined for the Cruise 2022 collection.

Under the guidance of NEMA textile supervisor, ethnologist Virginia Matseli, a series of accessories for the hats was created, overseen by the British designer Stephen Jones, who has been associated with the House of Dior as its artistic director of millinery for more than 25 years. “A Greek fisherman’s cap, special edition”, adorned with a braid, the Christian Dior signature, and jacquard laurel leaves, says Stephen Jones. “When they would come back from sea, the tradition is their wives would reknot the braid” he adds, describing the new essential as a “symbol of home, hope, happiness and family” (© Film directed by Marianna Economou) (Photos: elculture.gr)

‘NEMA’ Passementerie Museum at Petralona, Athens (Photo: © Benaki Museum / Leonidas Kourgiantakis)

 (Photo: © Benaki Museum / Leonidas Kourgiantakis)

The first step towards the creation of ‘NEMA’ was taken in 2012 with the rescue of ‘Mentis’ Passementerie from oblivion. The business was founded in 1867 in Nafplio but soon after moved to Athens in order to cater for the needs of its main clients, the Royal Court and the Palace Guard. The original workshop on Kerykeiou Street in Monastiraki included a silk workshop, a weaving facility and a dye house whereas a separate silk cocoon incubation house was located in the area of Mets. In 2011 the business closed and its equipment was donated to the Benaki Museum by Marina, Othon and Spyros Mentis. The workshop was refurbished and opened again in December 2012.

 In 2014 the Benaki Museum welcomed another donation, of the Georgios Antonopoulos family manufactory. The Benaki Museum refurbished a new space on 10 Polyfemou Street as well as the original space on no 6 so that the new donation was housed. It includes the complete archive of the business, many products and its entire equipment, among which two rare Jacquard looms. The collection was inventoried and researched by the Head of ‘NEMA,’ ethnologist Virginia Matseli. (Source: Benaki Museum)

Historical passementerie products of the Menti company (Photos: Athens Voice). The ‘Mentis’ and ‘Antonopoulos’ manufactories supplied over decades passementerie products to fashion, interior and costume designers, furniture upholsterers as well as military and ecclesiastical tailors. Their client lists included the Presidential (formerly Palace) Guard, the Greek National Opera, the Greek National Theatre, the Athens Concert Hall (Megaron), the Greek Organization of Small & Medium Sized Enterprises & Handicrafts (EOMMEX), the Greek Royal Welfare Fund, the Lyceum Club of Greek Women and many others in Greece and internationally (Source: Benaki Museum)

The Menti family: Spyros, his wife Anna, and their four children. From left: Giorgos, Dimitris, Anastasia, Othon (left), The Menti shop (right) (Photos: Athens Voice)

 (Photo: © Benaki Museum / Leonidas Kourgiantakis)

 (Photo: © Benaki Museum / Leonidas Kourgiantakis)

 ‘NEMA’ has developed into a centre for preserving traditional techniques of thread manufacture, weaving and embroidery. To this end, the Benaki Museum Education department works with specialist craftspeople and offers lifelong-learning courses focusing on these traditional techniques. The Benaki Museum Shop, in an effort to marry old expertise and contemporary creativity, works with artists using raw materials from ‘NEMA’ for their creations (photo above). Their works are offered for sale at the various Benaki Shop outlets (Photo: © Benaki Museum / Leonidas Kourgiantakis)

The Benaki Museum Shop currently presents the exhibition “From Ink to Silk” by Nikomachi Karakostanoglou and the Art Rug Projects initiative by Ilektra Soutzoglou. The exhibition is hosted in the historic space of the Mentis–Antonopoulos (NEMA) Passementerie of the Benaki Museum, until December 5, 2025. The collaboration between these two women goes beyond a shared artistic project—it is a meaningful encounter between two worlds connected through history, heritage, weaving, and art. All of this unfolds within a space that carries its own profound memory. NΕMA serves not only as the backdrop for the exhibition but as an integral part of it—a living vessel of Greek textile history that today hosts its continuation in a contemporary, creative form.

General view of the exhibition “From Ink to Silk” at the NEMA Museum (Photo: nikomachi.k_studio). The creative encounter between visual artist Nikomachi Karakostanoglou and the Art Rug Projects initiative by Electra Soutzoglou brings together an artist and a historic carpet weaving company in a dialogue between matter and spirit, past and present, the gesture of art and the art of hand-weaving in an act of translation and transformation

Works by Nikomachi Karakostanoglou for the exhibition “From Ink to Silk”: Aegean Atoll (upper), Intimately Close (lower left), Imprint (lower right). In this bold project, visual artist Nikomachi Karakostanoglou steps in as a creative voice, bringing her own cultural heritage into the conversation. In her practice, she approaches material not simply as a vessel for form, but as a carrier of memory, energy, and sensation. Light and water are fundamental elements in her work—not merely as images, but as ways of perceiving the world: endless, fluid, intangible, and ever-present. This flow continues when her work is translated into a silk carpet. Her visual language becomes more tactile through weaving, yet retains its poetic nature (Source: Benaki Museum)

The story of the Soutzoglou family begins in Sparta of Asia Minor in 1900, where Nikolaos Soutzoglou founded one of the first Greek carpet workshops. Following the Asia Minor Catastrophe in 1922, he restarts the business all over again in Greece. The third generation, represented by Electra Soutzoglou, now breathes new life into the art of weaving by linking the traditional art of carpet-making with contemporary art. Looking towards the future, Electra launched Art Rug Projects, a platform where contemporary Greek and international artists are invited to transfer their visual works onto carpets—turning painting into weaving and artistic design into handcrafted objects of art.

Since 2017, visual artist Nikomachi Karakostanoglou has been exclusively working on her drawings and sculptures, challenging herself through the scale of the works and the materials she has collected during her travels across Asia. In 2023, under commission by the Onassis Foundation’s Stegi, she created two outdoor sculptures: “Drop of Knowledge” and “Flow.” She has held solo and group exhibitions in Greece and abroad. Her works are part of private collections as well as the collections of MOMus, the Benaki Museum, and the Onassis Foundation.

General view of the exhibition “From Ink to Silk” at the NEMA Museum. Art Rug Projects by Soutzoglou focuses on interactive collaborations with Greek and international contemporary artists, whose selected works are transformed into handmade rugs and tapestries—either as one-of-a-kind artworks or limited editions (Photo: Benaki Museum)

Read also:

Soufli, the village of silk | A traditional industry comes back to life

New ‘Chic’ Revives Greek Silk

Weaving Dreams” in the village of Geraki

I.A.

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The National Glyptotheque in Athens presents modern Greek sculpture from the 19^th and 20^th centuries, organised in thematic sections. The following Part II examines the evolution of Greek sculpture into Modernism, Abstraction, and contemporary trends. (Cover photo: General view of the National Glyptotheque outdoor area featuring Twelve Ray-Spoked Wheel on Cables Counterbalanced by a Sphere (1993), a large-scale sculpture by Theodoros, from the series "Equilibriums - Suspensions", Stainless steel and wire, 16 x 30 m)

Modernism and tradition. The French apprenticeship

General view of the 20^th century Sculpture Section at the National Glyptotheque

By the end of the first two decades of the 20^th century, Paris had won over Greek artists. At the same time, the sculptural ideas of Rodin—who drew deeply from the spirit of ancient Greek sculpture, blending its idealized forms with modern intensity and emotional realism—coexisted with those of Aristide Maillol (1861–1944), Antoine Bourdelle (1861–1929), and Charles Despiau (1874–1946). Each exercised his own distinctive influence on Greek sculptors, while maintaining their shared focus on art centered on the human figure. The Hellenophile Antoine Bourdelle, in particular, brought once more to the fore the virtues of Greek Archaic sculpture and its austere style. Through his work and teaching, he guided his students back to the roots of their art. Maillol’s fleshy female figures, with their simple curves, simplified volumes, and clear outlines, played an especially decisive role for all who adopted his style, either wholly or selectively. (Source: National Glyptotheque)

Apartis Thanassis (1899 - 1972), Torso of a Portuguese Man or Male Torso, 1921, Bronze, 67 x 39 x 22 cm (left). Apartis was the first of several Greek sculptors to study under Antoine Bourdelle. The teachings of the latter and other descendents of Rodin and the simplicity of Archaic sculpture shaped Apartis’ style (left). Pappas Yannis (1913 - 2005), The Painter Yannis Moralis, 1937, Bronze, 174 x 55 x 45 cm (right). Pappas remained faithful to the figurative depiction focused on the human being throughout his entire artistic career. His style echoes both archaic Greek and Egyptian sculpture, as well as the contemporary trends.

Tombros Michael (1889 - 1974), Two Friends, 1929, Marble, 66 x 33 x 21 cm (left) Stout Seated Woman, 1948, Bronze, 103 x 45 x 68 cm (right). Tombros was a leader in disseminating avant-garde European currents in Greek art. While always remaining anthropocentric, he created free works, particularly of female figures, mainly reflecting Aristide Maillol’s plastic style (right)

Raftopoulou Bella (1902 - 1992), Maiden, 1931, Stone, 64 x 36,5 x 27,5 cm (left). Working mainly in stone, which she carved directly, Raftopoulou focused on the female figure as well as animals and birds. In her earliest works, the realistic approach reflected what she had learned from her professor, Thomas Thomopoulos, and, in certain cases, even Rodin. Makris Memos (Agamemnon) (1913-1993), Spring Dance, 1977, Hammered copper, 230 x 100 x 76 cm (right). Makris centered his attention on the human figure, faithful to representation but with a strong tendency toward the schematic and the abstract. His full figure sculptures, reflect the precepts of archaic art as well as his apprenticeship in Paris.

Anthropocentrism. Towards simplification and abstraction

General view of the 20th century Sculpture Section at the National Glyptotheque. On the left side: Efthymiadi-Menegaki Frosso (1911 - 1995), Nike, (1960), Hammered brass, 103,5 x 84 x 35,5 cm. After 1955, Efthymiadi turned to metal and created abstract compositions, either static or in motion, in which the void plays a prominent role.

By the mid-1940s, the human figure and figurative representation had practically monopolized the interest of Greek artists. However, the stimuli they received in Paris were numerous and diverse. Thus, while several remained faithful to academic styles, others, from the early 1950s onward, gradually turned to more simplified and abstract forms. This shift led to a schematic, suggestive, fragmentary, or expressionistic rendering of the human figure, which in some cases was also used as a means of expressing political or social protest, anxious psychological states, or personal experiences. (Source: National Glyptotheque)

Avramidis Joannis (1922 - 2016), Polis, 1965 – 1968, Bronze, 203 x 270 x 135 cm. Containing clear-cut elements from archaic sculpture, Avramidis’ figures are rendered schematically, in the form of a column or pillar, isolated or in a multiplicity of combinations.

Kalakallas Giorgos (1938 - 2021), Harlequin, 1983, Bronze, 108 x 65 x 30 cm (left). Kalakallas fashioned his personal style combining elements taken from differing stylistic trends and the tradition with the avant garde. Koulentianos Kostas (1918 - 1995), Sea Victory, 1954, Iron, 76 x 63 x 33 cm (right). The influence of Henri Laurens can be easily spotted in the works from the 50s, in which Koulentianos was still working in a figurative framework, but with a strong abstractive tendency, his subjects still revolving around the human figure.

Abstraction and other trends

The trend toward simplification and abstraction, initially expressed through sculpture rooted in the human figure, gradually led to the rejection of figurative representation and ultimately to complete abstraction. At the same time, sculptors abandoned traditional materials and turned to iron, steel, and other metals. Cubism and Constructivism—with their dynamic projection into space and the incorporation of empty space as a defining sculptural element—became key sources of inspiration, as did organic forms. Compositions were enriched with new materials. Science and technology also provided important stimuli. (Source: National Glyptotheque)

Aperghis Achilleas (1909 - 1986), Solitude, 1966, Bronze, 205 x 58 x 38 cm (left). Even in the earliest of Apergis’ abstract works the endeavor to limit the volume while developing the figure in space is apparent, sometimes stressing the vertical and other times the horizontal. Sklavos Yerassimos (1927 - 1967), La Passante, 1965, Marble, 266 x 100 x 63 cm (right). Sklavos created works in the round, in the context mainly of geometric and in certain cases organic abstraction. In 1960, he invented “Telesculpture”, a patented technique that enabled him to carve his materials more easily, using an oxyacetylene flame. 

Lameras Lazaros (1913 - 1998), Penteli in Ecstasy, 1948, Marble, 48,5 x 47 x 12 cm (left). The inspiration for the piece was the mountain in Attica that had provided the marble for many important works of sculpture dating back to antiquity. Lameras was a sculptor who comfortably moved between traditional art and contemporary currents. Vari Sofia (1940 - 2023), Centaur, 1985, Bronze, 77 x 70 x 60 cm (right). Vari’s early stylisation evolved into abstraction, echoing the styles of Henry Moore and Jean Arp, with subjects inspired by Greek mythology.

Zongolopoulos Giorgos (1903 - 2004), Composition of Circles, 1998, Stainless metal, 300 cm. A significant portion of Zongolopoulos’ oeuvre is made up of his constructivist compositions that incorporate the void.

After Abstraction

General view of the 20th century Sculpture Section at the National Glyptotheque. On the left side: Zouni Opy (1941 - 2008), White Column, 1991, Acrylic in wooden manufacture with base stainless steel, 240 x 20 x 20 cm. Through geometric shapes, bold colours, and a lyrical mood, Zouni captures light, shadow, motion, and perspective, and the immense space seems even more immense, due to the human absence.

Abstraction, which dominated the 1960s and 1970s, later declined, giving way to—or at times coexisting with—a variety of other artistic currents. From the 1980s onward, a renewed turn toward figurative and expressive forms emerged, embraced not only by younger artists but also by those who had previously committed to abstraction. This shift often resulted in works of striking realism, with traditional materials frequently replaced by everyday or natural substances. The human figure appears as part of an environment or installation that reshapes its meaning, occasionally conveying irony, layered critique, or protest. Conversely, although depictions of nature are relatively uncommon in sculpture, they do surface in different forms within the work of certain artists—either as a primary focus or as a fragment within their broader creative practice. (Source: National Glyptotheque)

Liti Aphroditi (1953), Leaf, 1984, Iron, mirror, 73 x 333 x 508 cm. Drawing her inspiration from nature, Liti transforms reality into outsized images, elements from the natural world that reside on the ground or are suspended. Various metals, mirrors, mosaics, marble, stone and plaster are the mediums she uses to remodel images of the natural world.

Papayannis Theodoros (1942), Figure from the series “My Phantoms”, 1994 – 1995, Wood, metal and mixed media, height 250 cm (left). The human figure isolated or in pairs, has been the focus of Papayannis’ work in all the stages of his creative career. He quickly distanced himself from strict naturalistic depiction, turning to more abstract renditions. Papadimitriou Angelos (1952), Apollo (Ap’ olon), 2007, Porcelain, papier mache, polyester, iron, 110 x 140 x 180 cm (right). The work is inspired by C.P. Cavafy’s poem “Artificial Bloom”.

Current exhibition: “The Farm”

Exhibition view featuring Frosso Efthymiadi-Menegaki’s Ibex (1955), Brass, 74 × 41 × 24 cm

Currently, the exhibition "THE FARM" is presented in the outdoor space of the National Glyptotheque. Works by Thanassis Apartis, Bella Raftopoulou, Antonis Karachalios, Yannis Antoniadis, Nikolas Dogoulis, but especially Frosso Efthymiadi Menegaki, create a fantastic, artistic environment, integrated into the natural landscape of the park, with familiar and less well-known figures, in characteristic poses. At the same time, however, they reveal the relationship, the emotions and the unique perspective of each artist towards the animals or birds they wanted to depict: the tenderness for their own pet or for the pet of a neighbor, but also for the unknown animals, which they used as models. (Source: National Glyptotheque)

The Christos Kapralos Museum, an annex of the National Gallery on the island of Aegina

In 1995, the six halls of Christos Kapralos’ workshop on the island of Aegina began operating as a museum (photo above), two years after the sculptor’s death. In 2006, the Christos and Souli Kapralos Foundation became part of the National Gallery – Alexandros Soutsos Museum. In its halls and outdoor areas, visitors can view wooden, stone, and marble sculptures, as well as paintings, all created by the sculptor on Aegina. Among the most important exhibits are the plaster cast of Kapralos’ forty-meter porous-stone frieze The Monument to the Battle of Pindos (1952–1956), as well as the wooden complex Parody from the Pediment of Olympia (1971–1972). Christos Kapralos (1909-1993) focused on the human figure, modeled realistically in clay, plaster, stone, and marble and inspired by archaic Greek sculpture. In the 1960s he adopted semi-abstract forms in copper, marked by distortion and fragmentation. He also created wood compositions drawing on mythology, history, Christian themes, and everyday objects.

Read also:

The National Glyptotheque (Part I)

Visual Arts in Greece: 1950s–1990s – Part 1/6: “From self-referentiality to the gesture”

Visual Arts in Greece: 1950s–1990s – Part 2/6: “From Painting to the Object”

Visual Arts in Greece: 1950s–1990s – Part 3/6: “From Sculpture to Energy”

Visual Arts in Greece: 1950s–1990s – Part 4/6: “From the work to the process”

Visual Arts in Greece: 1950s–1990s – Part 5/6: “From rhetoric to cultural representation”

Visual Arts in Greece: 1950s–1990s – Part 6/6: “Towards a new spatial art”

Greek Sculpture Meets Diplomacy: Frosso Efthymiadi’s “Iketides” at the UN

I.A.

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Eva Geraki’s paintings unfold as a poetic dialogue between reality and imagination, delicately suspended between the visible and the invisible. Her work explores dreamlike landscapes, featuring luminous colors that intertwine with nature, forming a personal mythology of light and emotion. Her practice traces a consistent search for transformation of time and space.

Her compositions unite natural and urban elements in a state of suspension: shimmering seas, silhouettes merging with foliage, and buildings reimagined through expressive brushwork. Circular forms, shadows, and symbolic geometries evoke spiritual equilibrium, while her vibrant palette invites the viewer into a dreamlike reverie.

Color and light are central to Geraki’s visual language. The island of Symi becomes both a physical and emotional landscape—resisting the passage of time. She envisions a future world of transformation and harmony between city and nature. Influenced by pop art yet softened by lyricism, her canvases offer a “travel guide of the future,” ethereal realities where light triumphs over darkness. Using oils and acrylics, she creates a poetic reinterpretation of contemporary life, reminding viewers of the fragile but achievable balance between humanity and the natural world. Eva Geraki paints not to escape reality but to reimagine it—to offer a vision where memory, color, and emotion converge into timeless, transformative spaces.

Eva Geraki was born in Piraeus in 1976 and studied painting at the School of Fine Arts of the Aristotle University of Thessaloniki (1996–2002), under the guidance of Vangelis Dimitreas. In 2021, she attended an Art Therapy seminar at the University of the Aegean, expanding her interest in the healing side of art.

Since 2004, Eva runs her own studio, CHROMA, in Piraeus, where she teaches painting to children and adults and develops art programs in collaboration with museums, municipalities, educational institutions, and private organizations. She has also created illustrations for the International Olympic Truce Centre, literary publications, and the Symi Festival. Her ceramic works inspired by the architecture of Symi were presented at the Museum of Cycladic Art shop. She has collaborated with cultural and commercial institutions, magazines, and the Hellenic Broadcasting Corporation (ERT).

Her work has been exhibited in Greece and abroad. Since October 2025, she has been pursuing a Master’s degree in Visual Arts and Landscape: Approaches to Natural and Urban Space at the Department of Fine and Applied Arts, University of Western Macedonia, in Florina.

In an interview with Greek News Agenda*, Eva Geraki shares her insight on her dreamlike version of reality, cherished memories and the undeniable healing power of art.

Your works present a dreamlike version of reality. What led you to this approach?

Magical realism in my work is a conscious choice; it is the way I see and interpret the world around me. Through the subjects I focus on, I seek to find balance between nature and the urban environment — a dialogue that forms the conceptual foundation of my practice. In an effort to illuminate what remains dark within me, I work with vivid colors and a decisive presence of light. My optimism arises from my faith in the power of the image to reconcile human beings with the world — to transform vision itself into an act of hope.

What role does time play in your paintings?

In my work time functions as an invisible form of movement, a kind of memory that permeates things. I am fascinated by the moment when time feels endless, when it moves across the canvas along with my brushstroke, linking past and future in the present. I often think of it as a “memory of the future,” a recollection of what is yet to come, which inspired the title of my exhibition Promemory.

Urban landscapes, peculiar buildings, and architectural forms are recurring features in your paintings. How did this choice come about?

Urban landscapes fascinate me because they function as a mirror of humanity. Architecture imposes itself on us in an almost dramatic way; it exists, surrounds us, and carries its own history. It profoundly affects how we live, our goals, and our dreams.

In my paintings, however, buildings are not rendered realistically — they are transformed, they converse with elements of nature, and they acquire their own identity, as if replacing human presence through their existence. This “strangeness” expresses my need to see the city not only as a habitat, but as a place of reflection — a site that calls for respect toward our environment.

As my exhibition’s curator, Efi Michalarou, notes, my art is ‘a personal travel guide to the future’ transforming contemporary landscapes into personal paradises where a myth, a kind of visual solace, unfolds before the viewer, forming a deeply personal narrative.

Your roots in Symi seem to have played a significant role in your artistic journey. Could you tell us more about that?

Symi is always present, even when I’m not painting it. It’s the light, the contrasts, the relationship between nature and memory. Since childhood, I’ve been aware of the island’s magical atmosphere — its textures and colors inspired me to create my own imaginary worlds.

It taught me to observe the subtle shifts of light, to respect silence, to see beauty in simplicity and decay, and to appreciate the fragile balances both in nature and time-worn houses. The island continues to inspire my vision of the future.

For whom does one make art?

Art is, above all, a dialogue with one’s own creative self — a need to understand the world, to construct one’s own universe, to reconcile with reality. Yet every artwork, once it comes into being, seeks the gaze of the other — not for validation, but for communication.

Art has an undeniable therapeutic power, regardless of age, talent or skill. I realize this constantly through my teaching experience. It acts as a bridge between the inner and the outer world, between the individual and the collective experience; it enhances personal expression, and therefore inner harmony.

Art puts together movement and thought, aligning purpose with effort. Experimentation, for me, is essential. It offers motivation for reflection, challenges the mind to come up with solutions, and keeps the creative process alive and unpredictable.

The public’s acceptance of one’s work certainly holds significance. Yet it is not the ultimate aim of the artistic pursuit. Still, when such acceptance arises genuinely, it carries a unique weight and meaning.

Interview by Dora Trogadi

Intro photo: Neo Faliro Transformation

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The National Glyptotheque is housed in the twin buildings of the former Royal Stables at the Army Park in Goudi, Athens. Moreover, it covers an outdoor area of 6.500㎡, which hosts a sculpture park, where large-scale works are on display. It was inaugurated in 2004, with a retrospective exhibition of Henry Moore and monumental wood sculptures by Christos Kapralos. In 2006, the Modern Greek Sculpture Permanent Display was inaugurated, providing, for the first time, a complete overview of the sculpture collection in a dedicated space. Also for the first time, a comprehensive catalogue was published, available in English (Cover photo: General view of the National Glyptotheque).

Six iconic sculptures by major international artists are on display at the exhibition entrance: Magritte Rene (1898 - 1967), The Healer (Le Therapeute), 1967, Bronze, 145 x 128 x 90 cm, donated by Alexandros Iolas (right), Unknown, Island Fanlights, Marble (left)

The exhibition consists of eleven sections, which trace Modern Greek sculpture from its earliest beginnings to the present day.

Folk sculpture

After Christianity spread, ancient Greek sculpture declined, becoming mainly decorative. In post-Byzantine times, it survived as folk art through wood, metal, and stone carving. By the early 19^th  century, sculpture revived on the Ionian Islands and across Greece, where anonymous craftsmen created remarkable works on fountains, houses, churches, and tombs, blending Western, Eastern, and traditional elements. In the Cyclades—especially on Tinos island, known for its marble-working tradition—stone carving thrived. (Source: National Glyptotheque)

Unknown, Island Fanlight, Marble, 52 x 73,5 cm. The fanlights are a separate category of lintels all their own, widespread throughout Tinos island. In the shape of a perforated relief arch, they were placed over the doors or the windows and served a multiple function: structural, because they cover the relieving triangle over the lintel, practical, because they allowed light to reach the inside, aesthetic, because they were decorated with various depictions and magical because the decorative representations frequently had the aforementioned attribute of protecting the house from, or driving away, evil spirits.

Lytras Chatziantonis (c. 1800 - 2nd half 19th century), Windmill, 1837, Marble, 49 x 62 cm. An eponymous example of folk sculpture made by the marble sculptor Chatziantonis Lytras, father of the painter Nikephoros Lytras, just before the appearance of official sculpture in the newly liberated Greek state. It bears the marks of the characteristic perception of the folk artisan: decorative schematization, a flat rendering without any perspective and a lack of proportions.

Ionian Island Sculpture and Neoclassical Sculpture

The reappearance of sculpture as an autonomous art and its liberation from its secondary, decorative role was realized at the beginning of the 19^th century in the Ionian Islands through the work of the Corfiot sculptor Pavlos Prossalentis the Elder. Prossalentis was the first academic modern Greek sculptor and in 1813 he founded the first Art School in Greece, on the island of Corfu, since the rest of Greece was still under the Turkish yoke.

After Athens became the capital of Greece in 1834, many skilled Tinian craftsmen arrived to help decorate the city’s new buildings. The need for organized art education led to the founding of the School of Arts in 1837, where sculpture began being taught in 1847 under German sculptor Christian Siegel. He introduced neoclassicism, inspired by ancient Greek and Roman art. Early students, including Ioannis Kossos, Lazaros and Georgios Fytalis, and Leonidas Drossis, who made the sculptural decoration for the Athens Academy, became leading neoclassical sculptors. Their works—statues of heroes, public figures, and funerary monuments—reflected both classical ideals and the emerging identity of the modern Greek state. (Source: National Glyptotheque)

General view of the Neoclassical Sculpture Section at the National Glyptotheque

Prossalentis Pavlos the Elder (1784 - 1837), Plato, 1815, Marble, 46 x 34 x 24 cm; it is the first dated work in modern Greece (left), Fytalis Georgios (1830 - 1880), Shepherd with Baby Goat, 1856, Marble, 110 x 48 x 42 cm (right)

Drossis Leonidas (1834 - 1882), Penelope, 1873, Marble, 143 x 75 x 133 cm (left), Vroutos Georgios (1843 - 1909), The Spirit of Copernicus, 1877, Marble, 188 x 77 x 67 cm (right)

Yannoulis Chalepas (1851-1938) stands as a unique figure in modern Greek sculpture, his career marked by both brilliance and tragedy. A gifted artist, he studied at the Athens School of Arts and the Munich Academy, where he excelled before financial hardship forced his return to Athens in 1876. Despite early success, mental illness struck in 1878, ending his first creative period, which had drawn heavily on ancient Greek themes. After years in the Corfu Asylum (1888–1902) and the destruction of his later works by himself and his mother, Chalepas resumed sculpting only after her death in 1916. His mature style abandoned academic precision for a freer, instinctive approach that emphasized essential form over detail. His later works—robust, introspective, and symbolically charged—reflect a deeply personal dialogue with antiquity and his own inner struggles.

Chalepas Yannoulis (1851 - 1938), Sleeping Female Figure (Plaster cast from the tomb of Sofia Afentaki in the First Cemetery of Athens), 1878, Plaster, 77 x 178 x 76 cm (upper), Medea III, 1933, Plaster, 72 x 43 x 24 cm (lower left), The Secret, before 1927, Painted plaster, 48 x 30 x 20 cm (lower right)

General view of the 20^th century Sculpture Section at the National Glyptotheque

From Neoclassicism to Realism and to 20^th century

Neoclassicism dominated Greek sculpture through the 19^th century and into the early 20^th, but studies in Europe exposed Greek sculptors to new artistic trends. This led to more realistic themes inspired by everyday life, often created to decorate gardens and entertain the public. Dimitrios Filippotis pioneered such works in 1869 with The Harvester, depicting children in daily activities. Georgios Vroutos and Georgios Bonanos also embraced realism while preserving neoclassical traits—idealized forms and smooth surfaces. In contrast, traditional subjects like busts soon adopted a more naturalistic style, portraying real individuals rather than idealized, imaginary figures. (Source: National Glyptotheque)

Filippotis Dimitrios (1834 - 1919), Boy with Piggy-Bank, (1888), Marble, 136 x 47 x 40 cm (right), Irene Abanopoulou, 1879, Marble, 68 x 48 x 29 cm (left)

Bonanos Georgios (1863 - 1940), Nana, 1896 – 1897, Marble, 165 x 91 x 132 cm (left), Vroutos Georgios (1843 - 1909), The Boy with the Crab, 1891, Marble, 125 x 50 x 50 cm (right)

The turn to Paris

Although 19^th-century Greek sculpture was dominated by neoclassicism, a shift toward renewal began around 1870, blending classical tradition with emerging realistic trends. Artists gradually turned to Paris, as seen with Lazaros Sochos, who studied there - he was the first Greek sculptor who preferred to do his post-graduate studies in the French capital in 1885 - and created the equestrian statue of Theodoros Kolokotronis, in front of the Old Parliament House in Athens, now housing the National Historical Museum. At the same time, Auguste Rodin’s influence transformed European sculpture and inspired many Greeks. His expressive modeling, use of allegory, and focus on the fragmentary figure appealed to sculptors trained in the neoclassical style. Thomas Thomopoulos, although having studied in Munich, was to be characterized as “the introducer of the Rodin School into Greece”, while Kostas Dimitriadis fully developed it, establishing modern Greek sculpture’s new direction. (Source: National Glyptotheque)

Sochos Lazaros (1857/1862 - 1911), Bust of a Clergyman (probably the Greek priest, philosopher and revolutionary, Theophilos Kairis), 1889, Clay, 50 x 31 x 20 cm (left), Vitsaris Ioannis (1843 - 1892), Christos, the Black Guy, 1874, Painted plaster, 7,8 x 36,3 x 39 cm (right)

Dimitriadis Constantinos (1879 - 1943), Nude Female Figure or Dancer, 1920, Marble, 75 x 23 x 52 cm (left), Thomopoulos Thomas (1873 - 1937), Centaur, 1901, Painted marble, 60,5 x 34 x 17 cm

The following Part II will examine the evolution of Greek sculpture into Modernism, Abstraction, and contemporary trends.

Read also:

Arts in Greece | A Tribute to Greek sculptor Yannoulis Chalepas on the occasion of World Mental Health Day

The Munich School, the first artistic current in the modern Greek state

I.A.

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