The weather is still very good in my part of the world, southern Chios island, Greece. It is sunny and quite warm, perfect for spending time outside. And that’s exactly what I did this morning, I spent some time walking around in my village and looking at the ruins.
By studying the half demolished old houses I can see the work of the old craftsmen who built them by cutting each stone by hand, carrying it to the building site, assembling the stones to form a wall, then doors, windows, steps, floors, ceilings, etc. I can see the building techniques used so that the walls could support at least one extra floor. I can also see that different stones were used for the doors and windows, big slabs of stone for the floors and steps. The hand of the craftsman is present on every stone. Often, we can see some additions and repairs done on the original building at a later time.
Older people in my village have told me that everyone was working in the building of a new house. After all, just to give the right shape to every stone used and to carry all the very heavy building material to the building site, a lot of people and animals were needed.
Many of the ruins belong to people who do not live in Greece anymore or have moved to Athens. Their parents and grandparents left the village many years ago. Often, a house is owned by many people who do not even know each other, they are just coming from the same family a few generations back. In one case, the space of the ruin has been taken over by the neighbours to create a green spot in the middle of our stone village.
A garden in a ruin.
After studying the “raw” stone walls of the ruins, my walls have another meaning. I can picture the craftsmen around 1740 trying to cut by hand and fit the stones together to build my house. How many were they? Where did the stone come from? How long did it take to build the house? Who was the owner? Did he have a big family? Did they live happily in this house?
Kerasochori is a small village in the Evrytania province of central Greece. In the 1970s the area was “forgotten” by the Greek state. There were no roads, communication between the inhabitants of the beautiful villages was difficult. Life was not easy, there were no jobs, and people, especially the younger ones, were abandoning their villages for the big cities.
Greek bag, woven in Kerasochori, Evrytania, Greece, 1978-79
The Swiss organization “La Terre des Hommes” decided to help by creating a weaving school in Kerasochori, providing education and a home for young girls coming from poor families of the area. The organization worked with the Greek Handicraft Organization, the Church of Greece, who donated the buildings, and in 1974 the school was founded. The goal was to teach a traditional craft to young girls who could, then, be able to create a job for themselves, maybe without leaving their villages.
Woven in Kerasochori, Evrytania, Greece, 1978-79Greek bag, woven in Kerasochori, Evrytania, Greece, 1978-79
The girls, 13 to 15 years old, attended the school for two years. They learned how to weave using traditional techniques and designs. Some even created their own designs inspired by tradition. They used the material available in their mountain villages, wool from their sheep, in natural white, gray, brown, black, or dyed in different colours. The warp was cotton.
Woven in Kerasochori, Evrytania, Greece, 1978-79
Most of the weavings were sold in Athens, placemats, Greek bags, cushion covers, wall hangings, rugs of all sizes in many colours and designs. The photos here are of small pieces. All of the bigger rugs I have are in storage right now. If / when I will have the chance to make photos, I will post them here.
The school has closed down, since long time ago.
Woven in Kerasochori, Greece, 1978-79Woven in Kerasochori, Greece, 1978-79
Living in one of the 24 mastic gum (mastiha) producing villages of Southern Chios, I have been exposed to the cultivation of mastiha since I first came here. Almost everyone in my village is involved in the production of this magical resin, valuable for many uses: for medicines, cosmetics, art paints and varnishes, sweets, etc.
Mastic trees
It was always cultivated on the island but started becoming known in the 10th century by travellers visiting Chios. The trade became more organized in the 14th century.
The mastic tree/bush (skinos, Pistacia Lentiscus var. Chia) grows all over Chios, also all over the Mediterranean area, but only produces mastic gum in the southern part of Chios. It is one of the strongest plants, it can live without water, in bad soil, and lasts for many years. The mastiha production is worthwhile from about the 5th year of the life of the plant and reaches its best at around the 15th year. It can live up to 100 years. A mature tree produces about 200 grams per year.
White soil under mastic trees
The cultivation of mastiha starts around May-June and ends in September-October, depending on the weather. First, they prepare and clean the area under each tree, then spread a white soil on that area so that the drops (the tears) of resin falling are kept clean. Next, with a special sharp and pointed tool, they “wound” the tree by making incisions on the trunk and the branches (see the beautiful film at the end of this post).
Photo at the Chios Mastic Museum
After the mastiha has fallen on the ground, and become hard, it is collected very early in the morning, while it is still cool and the resin remains hard. Then they “bring it in”, to the village, where they continue with the “cleaning” of it. This involves sifting it through different sizes of sieves to clean it from the soil and leaves.
Sieves at the Chios Mastic MuseumOld photo at the Chios Mastic Museum, 1930-1950Photo at the Chios Mastic Museum
Next comes the washing. Some people who live near the sea still go there to wash their mastiha.
Washing mastic gum in the sea, Southern Chios (2016)Sifted and washed mastiha
The final cleaning is done by the women. They usually gather around a round tray (sini), now a round table but still called sini. They clean the resin drops, one by one, by removing any impurities using a needle, work that demands strong eyes and a lot of patience. This takes a few months, depending on the quantity of the harvest. When they finish they take it to the Chios Gum Mastic Growers Association for the final processing.
Cleaning mastiha, at the Chios Mastic MuseumCleaning mastiha (2017)Cleaning mastiha
A few days ago I visited the new Chios Mastic Museum, a very modern building housing a very old trade. It is located in the middle of the mastic producing villages and is surrounded by mastic trees where one can follow their cultivation, an open-air museum exhibition.
Chios Mastic MuseumChios Mastic Museum
“The aim of the Chios Mastic Museum is to highlight the production history of the cultivation and processing of mastic, also incorporating it to the cultural landscape of Chios. Through the inclusion of traditional mastic cultivation in the Representative List of Intangible Cultural Heritage of Humanity by UNESCO in 2014, the emphasis is on the timelessness and the sustainability of the product of Chios” {Copied from the Museum’s brochure}
Old distiller for the production of mastic oil, Chios Mastic MuseumOld “machinery” for the final processing of mastic gum. Chios Mastic Museum
I am definitely going back. Although mastiha production is part of my fellow villagers lives, there is a lot to see in that museum, details from the past and from the other villages, in a very organized and pleasant way. It made me see that not much has changed since the 19th-20th centuries. Also, there is a nice cafe with views over many mastic trees and the sea far away. Coffee was served with a cookie filled with mastiha cream. There is also a lot of modern art on the walls of some parts of the museum which connects the past with the present.
“The tree we hurt” 1986 , English subtitles
This film shows how the mediaeval fortress type villages of Southern Chios, where the mastiha producers lived for centuries (and still do), were around 1985. Not much has changed, they are only better preserved (see my blog post “Start where you are”). In this film you can also see the landscape of Chios, mastic trees, cultivaton, and follow a sweet story with beautiful music.
While we were busy dyeing yarn in Arachova, in 1987 (see previous blog post about natural dyeing), Frosso Haritou’s mother was sitting with us. She needed the company.
Like all women of her generation, she was never idle, her hands were always busy. Most days she was spinning, using her drop spindle, the traditional Greek way. The yarn she made was used by her daughter Frosso for her weaving.
This older woman had a smiling face that I still remember.
Arachova, a small town on the southern slopes of Parnassos mountain, is known today as a skiing resort. But in 1987 when a small group of weavers from Scotland, Finland, Zimbabwe and Greece headed north (from Athens) it was to learn how to naturally dye yarn the way Frosso Haritou had been doing all her life.
Weighing the yarnUndyed yarn in dye bath
In Arachova, there were still a few traditional rug weavers and Frosso was one of them. She was dyeing all the wool she was weaving with, using plants from the area, except for the blues and reds which were dyed with chemical dyes.
When we arrived, all the plant material was already collected by Frosso, so after preparing the skeins of wool we started the dyeing procedure. We used walnut, broom, pomegranate, inula, onion skins, flowering ash and eucalyptus.
Washing the dyed yarn
During the five days we stayed in Arachova we managed to dye a lot of yarn, to take with us and for Frosso to use in her weaving rugs for her shop. It was quite an experience because I had never participated in dyeing such big quantities of wool. My needs for coloured yarn were always more modest.
Rugs woven by Frosso
While we were dyeing the yarn, Frosso’s mother was sitting with us. She was not weaving anymore but she was still spinning. See the next blog post in a few days.
Frosso’s mother preparing vegetables (courgette flowers) for a meal
In the 1960s and 1970s, in many parts of the world, we were discovering, some rediscovering, our roots. There was an explosion of everything related to tradition, music, crafts, interpreted in a more contemporary and personal way. In Greece, at that time, traditional crafts were still practiced, as we saw in the previous blog posts about weaver Vienoula Kousathana, Mykonos, and basket maker ‘Selinos’, Tinos . The thread was not broken.
A woven item that was carried by local people but mostly by tourists visiting Greece was the “tagari”, a hand woven (some times machine woven) bag. Many weaving books of that time were referring to this type of bag as the “Greek bag”.
‘Tagari’ bag, Vienoula Kousathana, early 1970s
In Vienoula’s shop the variety of colours was so wide that it was impossible to choose just one tagari. The only solution was to buy several. And that is exactly what I had done, I just discovered two of those. The rest is lost, as expected after all these years.
In the summer of 1979 my parents were on vacation on the island of Tinos. I visited them and we all drove around exploring the island. My parents were known for always trying to see every corner of the places they were visiting.
One day, just outside the village Agapi (‘agapi’ means ‘love’ in Greek) we looked down at a ravine and saw a man sitting near the water. We approached him and found out that he was weaving baskets. It was shady and cool down there and we spent some time with him, following his way of working.
After stripping thin branches of their outer layer, he was soaking them in water to keep them supple and easier to use in his “over-one-under-one” work.
We bought some of his baskets, including the one he was working on, and then he invited us to his house to drink some of his wine. The wine was excellent!
As it often happens in small places, where people are better known by their nicknames than by their real ones, we were told that his name was ‘Selinos’. Was it from the word ‘selino’ (celery) or ‘selini’ (moon)? We never found out. But we did find out that he was known not only for the baskets he was making but also for enjoying drinking a lot of wine…
Every year, in spring, a weaver from Athens comes to the village of Mesta, Chios island, where she stays for almost six months. Mesta is the best preserved mediaeval village on Chios, a destination for almost everyone visiting the island. (More about Mesta another time).
Eri Avgoustidou first visited Mesta over 25 years ago and instantly fell in love with it. After all, there was a lot of Chios in her blood, her grandmother came from Kambos and her husband’s family from Mesta. She made a plan to learn how to weave and return to the village to buy a house and start a business. And so she did. She is the owner of the “Agnytha” shop.
During the winter, in Athens, she weaves in her studio, inspired by the Greek tradition. She also teaches a group of over twenty weavers who come to learn from her, year after year, at the cultural centre of the Municipality of Moschato-Tavros.
Eri is one of those people who enjoy what they do and this is one of the reasons why she has become one of our best quality weavers (ask me) and teachers (ask her many students who love her).
A few years ago she wove the silk fabric for her daughter-in-law’s wedding dress. It was beautifully woven and the dress was gracefully moving while the couple was dancing at the wedding party. Let’s hope that she will weave fabric for her four grandchildren’s weddings. They will be lucky if she will.
Many moons ago, in a shop full of woven colour on the island of Mykonos, I met Vienoula Kousathana (Vienoula of Mykonos). That is where I saw a traditional working loom for the first time. I had no idea then how meeting that wonderful lively older woman would affect my life.
Talking with her, not only about weaving, was always a pleasure. I remember her complaining that “younger women don’t weave anymore, they want to have long red fingernails and you cannot weave with long red fingernails”.
Later on that summer another weaver showed me in detail how the loom works. Warp making seemed to be quite complicated so I forgot all about looms.
A weaving by Vienoula, 1970s
Next winter, back in Athens, I found a book called “Step-by-step Weaving” (Nell Znamierowsky), bought it and made a simple loom following the directions in it. That loom was similar to a toy I had as a child, a gift from my uncle Christos.
I taught myself how to weave, how to make a good warp, and after many books and many complex looms (up to a dobby-loom) I have returned to the simple creative techniques in that first book. The same techniques that Vienoula was using while playing with colour.
A book about Vienoula, written by her eldest daughter
Since that meeting with Vienoula, weaving has taken me to many places and, a few decades later, it still does.
[The photo of Vienoula at the top was found on the internet]
Video
There are many photos of Vienoula, her weaving, her shop, friends and family in the following video. It is in Greek but the YouTube description in English is quite good.
VIENOULAS ENGLISH SPOKEN
Script-editing-Direction: Andonis Theocaris Kioukas
Doc, 50′, 2015
The film tells the story of Vienoula, a weaver who changed the course of crafting Mykonian textiles.
Born in 1907, Viennoula traveled to England at the age of 13. The year was 1920 and she spent the next 5 years in Britain at her godmother’s side. She learned perfect English and eventually returned to Mykonos in 1925. Upon her return she took up her mother’s loom and began to weave. She married Dimitris Kousathanas (nicknamed “Baby”); they had 5 children together. After World War II ended the first tourists began to visit the island. And they met Viennoula as she was the only local who spoke English. One of these travelers was Florence Henry, the photographer for Dior. He inspired Viennoula to transform herself from employee to entrepreneur. In 1950 she opened her own shop with her own original creations. From that point on, each visitor coming to the island, without exception, ended up in a tiny shop with a sign posted on the door “English Spoken.” Inside the small room the walls are covered in shelves brimming with her handmade creations: jackets, skirts, ties, tablecloths, rugs and blankets. In front of the window stands the loom and seated behind it is a Greek woman with sparkling black eyes and neatly combed grey hair, welcoming you with a smile as warm as an embrace. Poets, writers, architects, dancers, fashion designers, musicians and artists from every corner of the earth gathered round Vienoula’s loom. In the back of the house was the kitchen. On the large table there was always a plate of food to be shared with Mykonian or tourist passer-bys. And with some of these people lifelong friendships were forged; Kostantino Doxiathi of the building society and the violinist Yehudi Menuhin were 2 of these friendships.
Vienoula revolutionized the traditional Mykonian woven textile. She experimented fearlessly, willing to try new things. She changed the plain, somber pattern and the method of the weave. But more important than everything else she changed the color of the textile; she made it brighter, colorful and charming. Vienoula was both open-minded and open-hearted. She became one of the people who was identified with Mykonos. She loved life; to dance, to sing, to share good company, to tell jokes and to pose riddles. She was smart and ambitious and without grandiose ideas about herself. And when both Greeks and tourists told her she was an artist she replied “I am simply a weaver.”
The film was directed by Andonis Theocharis Kioukas of Q-kas Productions (www.qkas.gr). It is the second in a series of films Kioukas has produced and directed during the last few years in an attempt to preserve the cultural heritage passed down by these unique Mykonian individuals, larger than life, helping the island to grow and thrive in their unique way. Kioukas says he has chosen individuals that magically transformed the island, without they themselves knowing quite how they accomplished this. The 45 minute film is made up of interviews with 4 of Vienoula’s children—Amalia, Annouso, Anna and Panyioti as well as local artisans, Karolina and Luis Orasco.
This older woman had a smiling face that I still remember.
Toultouline 