How did you get involved in art?
I studied law in Athens, political science in Paris, and immediately from the early 1970s, I began practicing law. Law, at least at that time, was a good profession, but it offered me no personal satisfaction. The arts were always my main interest, but I had never thought that I could seriously engage in something more specific. Photography seemed momentarily more accessible and easier. Very quickly, I began to equip myself and to take photographs, and on the other hand, to buy books and try to educate myself in photography. After six years of passionate involvement with photography, I decided to leave the law and devote myself to photography.
Tell me about your studies. What did you gain from them?
Little from my law studies. Perhaps I learned to organize my mind and my arguments better. However, contrary to what most people think, law offers very specialized and not general knowledge. From my brief and occasional engagement with political science, I gained my liberation from it. The few months I spent in America attending photography seminars demystified some famous photographers for me, but I had the great fortune to get to know well the (for me) very important photographer Garry Winogrand. But the real studies are those that each person does on their own. And they do well when they realize what great joy this personal educational adventure can offer. I owe a lot to my parents who contributed to my growing up in a house where literature, music, and intellectual discussions were always present. From there, it was relatively obvious to try to make the rest of my life full of these intellectual joys. What I have learned to this day is due to people I admired, whose thoughts I listened to or read with respect, and my contact with works of art that filled me with joy.
You have taught and still teach. What are your main conclusions from this involvement?
In 1980, I started teaching some of my friends, within my law office, the technical and other things I was learning about photography. I needed this to consolidate what I was learning from reading. Quickly I realized that this novel (perhaps even primitive) teaching experience gave me great joy. I also understood that I had a knack, and perhaps also a skill, for it. The next year, in a small studio I had rented, I began teaching a group of my acquaintances, but also a group of foreigners on behalf of a branch of an American university. These experiences made me realize that I had to abandon the practice of law because otherwise, I was betraying both my clients and my students, and that I needed to expand my photographic library, since it was the main source of my knowledge and teaching. My transition to America for a few months was my need to meet other photographers more capable than myself and to celebrate my transition from law to photography. I had no illusion that a few months of seminars would make me wiser. Very quickly, my teaching activity took on the dimensions of an avalanche. From 1984 to 1990, I taught simultaneously or successively at the University of La Verne, at Moraitis School, at the Athens College (to student groups, but also to adults), at the American Base of Nea Makri, at Panteion University (Department of Mass Media), at the Focus School of Photography, while at the same time crisscrossing Greece delivering seminars on behalf of the Ministry of Culture to photographers - educators of Popular Education. However, I realized that I was risking sullying the great joy I felt as a teacher, first because of the plethora of goals and second because it was very important for me to be chosen by my students and not to impose myself on them from above. And this only happened in my own photographic department. Therefore, I decided from then on to devote myself exclusively to it. The basic seminar I have been continuously teaching since 1982 until today is titled "Introduction to Artistic Photography" and includes technical teaching (about one third of the total time) and artistic teaching, i.e., history and aesthetics of photography, as well as criticism of the participants' work. This seminar lasts all winter (every Wednesday afternoon from November until June) and is held in cooperation with the Benaki Museum on Koumbari Street 1. A second, more advanced seminar takes place in the first ten days of July in Syros (my place of residence for nine years), with content focusing on daily photography and criticism. A third seminar for even more advanced individuals takes place over a full three-day period in Syros every September with the goal of critique, organization, and presentation of a photographer's entire work. The only other teaching activity of mine consists of several four-day seminars (Friday to Monday) totaling twenty hours that I deliver in provincial cities or in Cyprus, when local bodies invite me for this. My seminars involve people of all ages and all educational (and photographic) levels. This is extremely important because it fosters very fertile discussions. Also, the fact that the seminars do not aim for professional rehabilitation or the creation of an artistic career (even if these words sound awkwardly out of place) ensures that the common link connecting the students is simply love and curiosity for the art of photography and everyone's desire to improve without any other tangible benefit. I have become convinced after so many years of teaching that with the right teaching, miracles can happen. I have also realized that talent is secondary and, in any case, is not something controllable. But above all, I have found that interest, knowledge, and method can be greatly cultivated and that combined with passion and intelligence, they can yield more results than talent when it is uncertain. I believe I have helped, in my own way, many young photographers in Greece to utilize their worth and their quality. I clarify that by help, I mean artistically and educationally, and not in terms of promotion, which is not my domain. At the same time, however, I believe that I have significantly contributed to creating a photographically cultured audience in Greece, which did not exist before.
When and why was the "Photographic Circle" founded, and what is its relationship with "Fotochoros"?
When I left the legal profession, the thought of pursuing photography professionally crossed my mind. However, I quickly realized that I would be replacing the client-lawyer relationship with that of the client-photographer, likely with lower fees and the added risk of being disappointed by photography as well. I decided then, in 1984, for financial reasons, to open, in collaboration with some good friends, a photography equipment shop on Tsakalof Street, named "Fotochoros". From this, I gained two benefits: first, I met most of the Greek photographers, and second, I learned that commerce must be conducted by capable merchants who know how to make a profit. Since I lacked this ability, I closed "Fotochoros" in 1990 and in the same space established the association "Photographic Circle", which I had founded with my students in 1988. The "Photographic Circle" was created with the desire not to lose touch with my students once a seminar series was completed, and to share what we all needed, namely a darkroom, a library, and a forum for exchanging views. The "Photographic Circle" became very active, organizing numerous group and solo exhibitions (it had its small gallery, also called "Fotochoros"), published a magazine, "Fotochoros", which ceased after the 13th issue due to lack of resources, and about sixty books, both theoretical texts and albums. Since 1990, we present the work of new photographers every Thursday. Since 2003, the photography seminars I teach and the Thursday presentations are hosted in the amphitheaters of the Benaki Museum. The "Circle's" library, consisting of 4,000 books, was donated to the Benaki Museum, while the darkroom was discontinued as everyone has now moved on to digital technology. Thus, the life of the "Circle" continues through cooperation with the welcoming Benaki Museum, where the "Circle" celebrated its twentieth anniversary last year with a large exhibition, innovatively using twenty computer screens instead of the traditional framed display.
Tell me about your own personal photographic work.
Before I became a photography teacher, I began taking photos, fascinated by the work of great photographers I gradually discovered. However, today I feel that my activity as a photographer has taken a back seat, not only because I consider my teaching work more important but also because it occupies and engages my thoughts more. I continue to photograph out of joy and also because it renews my contemplation about photography. It's difficult for me, and I also find it pointless, to pinpoint my influences. I'm well aware of the history of photography and admire so many photographers that, fortunately, I no longer know who has influenced me the most. But I'm equally influenced by the artists I love, who are directors, choreographers, or painters. The burden of influences each carries is complex and becomes richer over the years, and in a strange way, also clearer. Perhaps because as we age, we challenge our influences according to our own inclination. I'm not driven by a specific photographic concern or any ideology. Metaphysical and emotional issues affect both my life and my art more than anything else. My aesthetic propositions are attempts to reconcile what I see with what I feel and believe. My photographs, those I take and those I support, shun messages and illustrated concepts. I believe in abstraction and hope for transcendence. But I pursue nothing. Photography has the grace of its poverty. It's an intangible image that is reproduced unlimitedly and identically in many different ways and means. This is what I strive to emphasize and preserve. I try to avoid anything that would make it seem more valuable than it is.
You presented your photos at the New Forms gallery. What are your main conclusions from this activity?
I believe a photographer needs to "expose" themselves. However, where, when, and how this is done is very important. New Forms was a gallery with integrity and quality. It was my first major solo exhibition. And the first time I decided to sell my photos. Obviously, I don't live off the sales of my photos, just like no other Greek photographer does. However, since new habits now mainly treat photography as a product for sale, I, as a teacher, had to take a stance. In this exhibition, I set four conditions that the gallery, with great politeness, immediately accepted, even though they went against the current trend. I wouldn't make very large prints, as is now so fashionable, because I believe photography, being intangible, should be printed in proportion to the space and viewing point. Everything else is from the evil one. I would show many photos, because if people make the effort to move, they should have the joy of seeing more. I would set the lowest international sales price. And I wouldn't limit the number of prints, something I consider classic deception of the innocent public in the case of photography. Thus, I exhibited 120 photos of approximately 40X50 dimensions (most panoramic or or square ones), which were sold at a very reasonable price and in unlimited copies. Had I, on the contrary, exhibited five or ten photographs at most, each with dimensions of several square meters, limited to five copies each, and priced at several thousand euros (as is usually the case), I would have followed the trend, sold more "prestige" and fewer photographs and, worse, would have seriously harmed photography. What pleased me greatly was that, according to the people of the gallery, around three thousand visitors passed by, many of whom did not even know where the gallery was located, while I myself witnessed many touching questions from people who had no idea what a photograph can show and say.
How is photography affected by the "stock exchange" of art?
The juxtaposition of the words "stock exchange" and "art" surprises and repels me. A photograph can be sold for a lot of money because it belonged to someone famous, or because its creator died a long time ago. Rightly perhaps it is sold and rightly bought. This does not make it more important than others and in any case, this process should not concern people involved with art. I realize it concerns those who are involved with the stock exchange.
Is there artistic photography, and if so, why?
The right for photography to be considered art has been secured by creators-photographers who, from the time of Julia Margaret Cameron to today, have used it in ingenious and very personal ways as an artistic language. Once someone realizes this (and, I'm sorry, but very few in the art world have realized it), there is no question, and there is neither why nor because.
What are the most important exhibitions of yours and others that you have organized?
Apart from the one at New Forms in 2007, I haven't done another significant one of my own, and it's likely to be a while before I do another. However, I have organized many significant group exhibitions for members of the "Photographic Circle". During the 1990s, two exhibitions were held with more than 60 photographers and 600 photographs at the Athens Art Center (formerly EAT-ESA). The same exhibitions were presented at the Mylos of Thessaloniki. Another exhibition in 1998, for the ten years of the "Circle", covered all three floors of the House of Cyprus. In recent years, I tried to show work by significant foreign photographers, something particularly difficult due to the cost. I never agreed to present a ready-made exhibition, as is often done mainly due to the reduced cost, because then I think I would have no reason to mix my name in it since I wouldn't have influenced the choices, which is the only justification for a curator's existence. At the Megaron Mousikis, I presented a very large exhibition on fashion photography, in which photographs of the greatest fashion photographers from throughout the medium's history were exhibited. At the Hellenic American Union, I presented the work of the great American photographer Bruce Davidson, and at the Theoharakis Foundation, the drawings of the great Italian director Federico Fellini. In all these exhibitions, I collaborated with the art historian Elisavet Plessa, who is one of the few art historians with knowledge of photography.
What is your relationship with cinema?
I had a greater relationship with cinema than with photography since childhood. I was a regular visitor to both film clubs that existed in Athens. During the intensive summer seminars, I showed my students, among many documentaries on various arts, some difficult and very important films. Then I realized that without help almost no one understood them. Gradually, I began to write notes to explain them, the notes became two large books (I'm now writing the third) and I started to organize small seminars for directors I know and love. The difference in my involvement with cinema compared to photography is first that the film classes are addressed to my photography students (and their friends), second that I do not attempt to teach anyone to make films (since I do not know how to do so), but only to watch films (as I see them), and third, I do not waste my time talking about directors I do not love, something I do with photographers I do not love, for the sake of completeness in my photography classes. To anticipate your curiosity, the directors I love and (at least so far) know well are Federico Fellini, Yasujiro Ozu, Kenji Mizoguchi, Ingmar Bergman, Pier Paolo Pasolini, Michelangelo Antonioni, Luis Bunuel, Buster Keaton, Carl Dreyer, Andrei Tarkovsky, Jacques Tati, Luchino Visconti (included in my first book titled "The evident charm and the hidden emotion of cinema"), Pedro Almodovar, Nanni Moretti, Wim Wenders, Fritz Lang, F.W. Murnau, D.W. Griffith, Vittorio De Sica, Ermanno Olmi, Ettore Scola, Elia Kazan, Frank Capra, John Cassavetes, Nicholas Ray (these are included in my second book titled "Without Intermission") and Roberto Rossellini, John Ford, Jean Renoir, Victor Sjostrom, Douglas Sirk, Max Ophuls, Jacques Becker, Pupi Avati (these among others will be included in my third book, the title of which is unknown for now), as well as several young directors with a few films like Carlos Sorin, Alessandro D'Alatri, Alejandro Agresti, etc.
Υou αre involved in writing? Discuss the most important books you have written.
Apart from the above books about cinema, I started writing books to help my photography students. The first was named "Photography" and includes all the necessary technical advice. It would have been more accurate to name it "Photography Handbook," but I was warned that few would understand the title. The latest edition of this book includes a large section written by my colleague and former student Manos Lykakis about digital technology, which I am not yet so well-versed in. Next, I wrote a book commissioned by the General Secretariat for Adult Education titled "Monologue on Photography." You see, I believe that art doesn't lend itself much to dialogue. If someone sees things differently, there are no irrefutable arguments, logical or otherwise, to convince them. They will see the world and life differently. Then, I wrote another theoretical book titled "Thoughts on Photography" with the subtitle "A Personal Reading of Its History." This book includes about a hundred photographs by famous photographers with a few of my own free comments. Because I was writing various articles and texts that were published in newspapers and magazines at every opportunity, I compiled them into a book titled "Texts on Photography." After a seminar I gave in Nicosia, I published the transcription of these twenty teaching hours under the title "Introduction to Artistic Photography." This book also publishes many of the photographs I refer to. At the same time, I always felt the obligation, since I teach and encourage my students to publish and exhibit their photographs, to do the same myself, so as not to remain unscathed. After participating in two small series of publications by the "Circle" members (the titles of my albums are "Light and Silence" and "Ruins"), I published a large album titled "Full Stop" with many of my photographs from different periods of my work. Finally, I published a book titled "50 Photographs - 50 Texts" that includes fifty of my texts on photography written in recent years in the press and fifty panoramic photographs of mine.
What are your future plans? Elaborate on them, both immediate and for 2010.
I hope to continue doing what I am doing today, as all these activities bring me joy. That is, teaching at the Benaki Museum on Wednesdays, presenting photographers, directors, and other artists at the Benaki Museum on Thursdays, conducting my intensive seminars in Syros, at my home, where I have created a wonderful seminar space, organizing exhibitions on behalf of various Institutions with the work of significant photographers, completing my third book on cinema, continuing every October, as this year, to deliver the lecture series at the Hellenic American Union on photography and cinema, and being able to make a series of television programs on photography (and cinema), as I did in the past. You see, the power of television as a teaching medium surpasses everything else. And if among all these activities I find the time to photograph, as I want and need to do, my joy will be even greater. However, on December 3rd, an exhibition that I am curating with photographs by the American Leon Levinstein (1910-1998) will be inaugurated at the Hellenic American Union, and for the same time next year, I have planned an exhibition of another American, Saul Leiter, in the same space.
How do you view the contemporary photographic reality in Greece and abroad?
Photography, both in Greece and abroad, is fashionable. This scares me. As does the fact that it is used because it is the ideal tool for conceptualization, advertising, propaganda, and every possible convenience related to its production, sale, and interpretation. Photography is difficult because it is easy, poor, and simple. But for all these reasons, it is also vulnerable. The photographs promoted by the media are those of the art stock markets you referred to, and the applied photographs that inundate print media. The plethora and misuse of undergraduate and postgraduate diplomas worldwide will not improve the situation. We will simply have many poor artists with degrees. Nonetheless, good photographers exist and will continue to exist. They may have a harder time becoming known if they do not play the dominant game. But that does not matter. Digital technology will also temporarily confuse the issue with its verbosity, but ultimately it will help because it will restore the charming poverty of photography, which does not tolerate uniqueness, large prints, and limited editions.
What is the role of the creator?
The question would have been inappropriate a few years ago, but it is not at all today. Art is nothing but the creator. Without him, not only is there no art, but there is not even an interest in it. Marcel Proust said that works of art move us because they reveal another galaxy to us, that of their creator, a galaxy that continues to shine for us, many years after his death. However, today there is a conscious effort to downplay the role of the creator, and furthermore, to label the opposing view as a Paleolithic obsession. And this is done to the benefit of all other players in the art market, such as art critics, art historians, university professors, art dealers (terrible term), cultural managers (another terrible term), specialist journalists, and above all, exhibition curators. But no one except the creator can create from nothing. But they try to address this through the rationale that accompanies the works, which also tends to become more important than the works themselves.
Υou αre a member of the Board of Directors of the National Museum of Contemporary Art. What do you think its role is today?
Every Museum is beneficial. A Museum of Contemporary Art helps the promotion, acceptance, and evolution of the art of each era, which is more difficult for the general public to accept. International practice wants Museums divided into periods. Perhaps this is also imposed for practical and organizational reasons. This is the case in Greece as well. Theoretically, the National Gallery includes works up to a certain period, and the Museum of Contemporary Art (I emphasize that "Contemporary" is a translation of Contemporary and not Modern, which in Greek is translated as Neoteric) works from a certain period to today. My role as a teacher makes me consider the questions posed in front of works of various periods more important, so a museum that would cover very large periods of art would seem more useful to me. On the other hand, I find it difficult to segment the work of an artist who has gone through more creative periods and especially with a variety of styles and to exclude one who lives in the contemporary era because he may have adopted a style that expressed the previous period, which, however, could express a near or distant future. I also wonder how a Museum of Contemporary Art will cover the next, for example, two centuries; perhaps every certain number of years, a new, even more contemporary art museum should be born and baptized. I also notice that museums of contemporary art worldwide are excessively influenced by what happens in the realm of private art galleries, instead of developing a policy outside the market circuit. My personal questions, however, have nothing to do with the very useful presence of our Museum, which, as I have already mentioned, follows the established international practice. In recent years, as a council, we have mainly focused on the effort to erect the much-desired building. The inevitable bureaucratic problems combined with the misfortunes that arose have delayed us. However, despite all this, the Museum constantly makes its presence felt with many exhibitions, thanks to the initiatives of its director, Mrs. Anna Kafetsi. I believe, moreover, that precisely because, as I explained, there is a relative ambiguity regarding the content and role of a Museum of Contemporary Art, the presence and personality of the director become particularly important. That's why I support that everywhere, but also in our Museum under foundation, the respective (and of course not lifelong) artistic director should be able to put his own stamp on the course of the Museum.
Do we live in the era of Modernism or Postmodernism?
Despite the fact that my name is often followed by the title of "Theorist," it seems that I am not theoretical enough to delight in the categorizations of art. I am much more interested in the creation itself. If by the term postmodernism we mean the prevailing art of the last twenty years, and by the term modernism the corresponding art of the previous seventy, then one can easily see that the scale of quality and importance undeniably tilts towards the past. But this is both logical and inevitable. I only wonder why we must triumphantly proclaim the death of an era to see the next one outlined. The great charm of art lies in the fact that, unlike science, a new truth does not negate the older ones. Therefore, I prefer to assess art based on the artists and their work. And certainly without being concerned with which theoretical constructs support it.