After my mother died I was suddenly aware that I am the sole custodian of so many memories from my youth. The Greek relatives of my generation were either at least ten years older than me (and so many now dead, like Anna with me above), or were not born for at least six years after me.
With the birth of a great-niece, as I have no children, I decided to put together a book explaining who everyone in my and my brother's part of the family was/is. Since completing that, I have been thinking that I might enjoy putting together a loosely organised collection of my own reminiscences. This goes happily with my desire to explore more of the interests spurred in my young days, but never pursued to any great degree.
One of those interests is in mosaics, especially Byzantine mosaics. This started at the age of four when my great uncle used to take me to his work. He was architect/civil engineer involved in the restoration of the church of St Demetrius in Thessaloniki. He would leave me to amuse myself looking around, and I was particularly taken with the glorious mosaics (I was an exceedingly well behaved child - and besides, everyone knew who I was). Recently I came across the website of Helen Miles, a mosaic artist who was inspired by Byzantine mosaics and has a post on the Rotunda here. Her fascinating blog posts got me fired up with interest again, and so when the other day I was researching books on the subject to get me started, I discovered one on my beloved Rotunda, I had to have it.
Spending three or four months every summer in Thessaloniki through my youth, I was allowed a lot of freedom. I was able from about the age of seven or so to walk through the town on my own, setting off from home as it was then up on the hill next to St Demetrius, down to my aunt's office to collect her at the end of her working day at 1 o'clock. I had ample opportunity to explore so much of such a fascinating place, which in my early years was a beautiful mix of medieval and belle epoque architecture. (So much was ruined with the blocks of flats which went up from the mid 50s, and now I find the place so filled with mediocre buildings that it is difficult to imagine how it once was.)
I loved the many churches, their shapes, their mosaics, their icons, ... but of all the buildings the one which intrigued me the most was St George's, the Rotunda. I was delighted when our home in Thessaloniki moved down to within a couple of minutes' walk to the Rotunda. When I knew the building it was neglected, not used as a church, and only visited by very few folks who deliberately sought it out. In its garden full of weeds, bits of stone ruins, and often junk, I saw my first sarcophagus.
The inside was awe-inspiring, especially when I was alone. It had lived different lives: Roman rotunda first, then a christian church, then a mosque, and then a sort of neglected museum ... until the earthquake of 1978, after which it was swathed in scaffolding, and taken more seriously.
It is scarcely believable now that my father (who took the photograph of us), my cousin Anna, and I at the age of ten were allowed to climb right up and sit on the roof - but the photo clearly shows the minaret and how high we were. The book arrived yesterday, and I am looking forward very much to putting some information with my memories.
How very interesting to read of your early time in Greece and to hear of a childhood so very different from my own. I envy you the different life perspective it must have given you.
ReplyDeleteA lot of childhood in Greece was enviable, indeed, and I am certainly glad of the opportunities it presented.
DeleteWhat a lovely post, thank you for this. Loved your reminiscences of Thessaloniki, and the way you were allowed to explore on your own - how wonderful it must have been.
ReplyDeleteSadly, we still have not got round to visiting Thessaloniki. The summer months are too hot for exploring, plus museums and galleries tend to close for the summer and don't open until the middle/end of September - too late for us. The winter months present other challenges: since the Greek economy collapsed 8 years ago, people cannot afford central heating, so they heat their homes by burning wood in their fire places instead. The ensuing smog is toxic, and if you have asthma, as I do, impossible to leave the house after 5:00 in the afternoon. We consequently tend to stay indoors with the air purifier on, particularly since the smoking ban is not being enforced, so bars and restaurants are also out, for me. So, the only solution would be to come to Athens at Easter and then travel to Thessaloniki. I am sure we will manage this at some stage, and when we visit the Rotunda I will be thinking of you and how it was then when you had it more or less to yourself.
Eirene, I am in two minds about recommending a visit to Thessaloniki to anyone these days, but that is because I knew it in what now to me seem idyllic days. The city must be ten times the size now, and full of those dreadful concrete apartment blocks. The glorious Byzantine churches which were literally buried by the Ottomans, were exposed with open dirt surroundings in my day - we had to go down steps to get to their courtyards and enter them - are now starved of light, squeezed by the apartment blocks. Well, some of them.
DeleteThe roads I walked as a child are now of course teeming with traffic, as are the pavements. A city which seemed to breathe so now felt constricting in an oppressive way when I was last there in 2008 and 2009.
On the other hand, there are even more treasures now, the new museums, the restoration of ruins, ... perhaps going as a tourist not looking to left or right until entering the venues - and of course with no previous memories ....