The art of the Insignificant
I believe that art exists wherever man manages to recognize himself and to express it through nothingness. These are my materials: Stones, clams and shells that Nature –who knows for how many years or centuries- has sculpted in a manner only it can employ, depending on the war of sand with the wave.
My source is the infinite blue of the sea: the eternal symbol of freedom and optimism. Come winter, come summer, holding my breath, I plunge into its silence…trace its heart… the communication its secret beneficial fallacy will set.
These are the materials
so that I will stare
at cruel fine of the verity of existence.
Each and every work is a kind of composition- petro sculpture – painting and not exclusively the result of performance in the domain of sculpting art. The creator intervenes in a sculpted piece of art by carving the raw material in order to arrive at the form he wants. In my “stony issue”, Nature and Time are the archetypal sculptors. Two lovers and dreadful accomplices I try to “mollify” so that they will say to me, “I will tell you a fairy” (και τι σοι μύθον ερέω).
I stress the carvings of time, Nature’s mystic functions, in detail in the manner they come off by my hand until they meet the approbation of my aesthetics.
I have followed my instinct throughout an unknown itinerary in the context of this liberating effort. “Representing” (a metaphor of “seeing”) makes me be embarrassed while “illustrating” in the sense of TRANSFORMING AN IDEA INTO A FIGUREOF MATERIAL SUBSTANCE will attract me like a siren because it connotes imagination, audacity and risk.
For example, G. Seferis’s poem “Nightingales do not let you sleep in Platres”, becomes a picture depicting “Helen of Troy” and the dead of the Trojan War. His phrase “…for an empty shirt for a Helen…”, meaning that all wars are made for nothing, is clearly an antiwar message known all over the world. When the Trojan War had ended, Teucros, the best archer of this war went to Egypt, where he met Helen of Troy and asked her in surprise, “What do you want here?” and she answered “I did not go to the land of Troy but I was a shadow”.
“Helen-cause” of the war was inexistent, exactly as every such tragic moment never missing from the history of mankind is equally inexistent. The only “casus belli” is always the insatiable, abominable disguise of a murderous authority.
My need for bending over the “Minimum”, relying on and minding for a borderless verity, is clear.
“…and you’ll learn a lot of things
if you search profoundly in the Insignificant”
It is the “Insignificant” material I try to transform into a mouthpiece of significant messages and connotations by the Sibyllic, imperishable language of poets. The natural material flows spontaneously from the subconscious inner world in this poetic cosmos like a hermetic soliloquy imitating the mechanism of thought before it is shaped. The hope that a “common place” of meeting individuals with similar needs for a way out in a chaotic world is articulated in this linguistic deviation of the “Minotaur of free association”.
“So, I’ll buy a mirror.
To reflect the infinite space with this mirror…
To buy also a small river…
To make a real river with my river.
I promise as…
To confess that…
Let it be…
I’d rather carve stones…
…Tam – taratatam…”
“Let it be. I’d rather carve stones…”. For a “Tam – taratatam…” of the free association.
My need is the same as that of Homer’s and, later on, of Virgil’s for making use of Nekyia.
My need is similar to that of primitive people’s for carving some imitating figures in a cave in order to subjugate Nature in their first attempt of a metaphysical struggle.
The only difference is that today, so many centuries afterwards, the HUMAN threat is incomparably greater than NATURE’s. An animal’s glance, the murmuring sound of a fountain along with a frog’s(2) song will make the axiomatic difference from today’s spectacular disaster: the collective “requiems” the wounded crystal in the innocent glance of a child placed on the lap of a Fate which crashes, the unskinned pretension and the rotten conscience.
Is the price of life reduced so greatly?
Is every expectation for re-establishment in dreams so desperately naked?
“However, you’ll firstly see the devastation
and give it your own meaning, he said.
Do know only this:
whatever you save in the flash
will endure pure in eternity”.
“Everyone according to his own arms”, my friends.