Saturday 12.11.16, 08.00 hours, I have just arrived at the Zografou University Campus. The more I drive around the more I am glad I have arrived early. I dream of a series showing the abandon of a whole generation, the betrayal of a splendid youth. After an hour spent on the spot I let myself convinced that it couldn't be otherwise. Live and let live!
Sunday 13.11.16, 09.00 hours, I am heading from Acropolis to Piraeus. Hands on the wheel, Petrou Ralli bridge, the morning sun hits me on the front, it stretches the shadows to the infinite. I take the turn. Dumped couches, dumped souls, under the bridge! I want to stop to take the pictures. I want but I won't. This makes me a lousy photographer, or someone still in search of his perfect camera. The iWink! (one morning in Athens by Michail)
John Szarkowski in the The Photographer's Eye underlines that towards the end of the 19th century, there was a deluge of pictures among which many seemed formless and accidental; nevertheless some achieved coherence even in their strangeness.
At the same time slow films and lenses created two-headed subjects or they filled entire frames with humans' diluted substance.
These errors were forgotten but some were meaningful beyond their futility and enhanced the vision of the photographers … as they looked again at the real world.
Zisis Kardianos knows that one of the learning tools of photographers are their own pictures. And since the heavy photographic plates do not bend our backs anymore, limitless experimentation can only be beneficial if fed back in its own stream.
And maybe one day we'll paraphrase John Dryden "For art may err but … photographers cannot miss"
The sea has always been the place to remember since my childhood days.
The nostalgia of summer holidays in particular, and all of the things that followed.
Family festivities, making new friends, playing all day, staying up all night.
Now as an adult, all these recollections seem as a distant memory that tends to fade.
Some of the people that were part of all this no longer exist, others went their ways.
It’s hard to try to imagine the things you saw in your childhood.
But when I want to remember even for a little while, i go by the sea.
The place where memories begin and end. (Vasilis Spagouros)