In the Aegean Sea emerges the island of Chios, a place that was the stage for millennia-old stories––of prosperity but also of profound tragedy. The streets of the city ooze with memories, and the ruins and historic sites still intact are a precious testimony to it. In town, within the walls of the ancient castle of Chios, once the residence of the Ottomans, stand a former Hamman––the Ottoman Baths––and a deconsecrated mosque, the Temenos Hamidiye. Between July 8 and August 28 in 2023, these two monuments became exhibition spaces for the artworks of twelve artists originating from Greece, Cyprus, Turkey, Iran, and Lebanon. My Past is a Foreign Country curated by Akis Kokkinos, founder of the local artistic association DEO Projects, was an exhibition that depicted the local reality of the island, examining and understanding it through a broad historical lens, focusing on migrations and changes that have involved the region of the Eastern Mediterranean.

This article is based on in-depth interviews with the curator and some of the artists (Greek artists Nikomachi Karakostanoglou and Maro Michalakakos, Yorgos Petrou from Cyprus, and Hera Buyuktascian from Turkey). The interviewed artists have come together for this group show, drawn to and inspired by Akis Kokkinos. Having solid experience in the art world during his twenties, Akis refined his curatorial voice through a master’s study at the Royal College of Art in London. The subsequent outbreak of the pandemic was a moment of deep reflection for the young curator, on his aspirations and the impact he wished to have. Thus, bound by familial ties to Chios, he saw an opportunity to create something meaningful on the island. In fact, he recognized that major metropolitan centers like London were saturated with cultural offerings and that if he truly wanted to instigate change, whether political, social, or cultural, he would have to extend his reach beyond these centers and engage with a broader audience. It is precisely from here that the idea of the DEO Project was born, whose vision is expressed by Akis: “I was thinking that it’s important to build an institution there, that supports transnational dialogue to bring through contemporary art the understanding of diverse cultures, and at the same time to support the existing cultural infrastructure of the island”.

As stated by Akis, Chios is a true microcosm but characterized by an immense dynamism in which many communities of different ethnicities, social classes, and economic backgrounds interact daily. This diversity provides a small and interconnected environment in which the impacts of global issues, such as the refugee crisis, were visibly evident. A profound understanding of this multifaceted character lies in the selection of the exhibition’s title, My Past is a Foreign Country. Initially, the curator came across Zeba Talkhani’s book of the homonymous title, which recounts the author’s personal story and her experience growing up in Saudi Arabia, as well as her travels through different countries in search of an education that would offer her greater freedom. However, during the research, Akis discovered that the title derives from another book, The Go Between by L.P. Hartley, published seventy-one years ago. It was surprising to realize that this phrase has been widely used as a title for books, films, music albums, and more. The widespread adoption of this very title intrigued the curator, who appreciated the idea of a lack of a defined starting point. He reflected on the diversity of human experiences and how everyone carries their own past with them, attributing new meanings to it depending on the context and personal experience. This concept proved particularly meaningful in the context of the history of Chios. This island has endured the rule of different civilizations over the centuries, with the Ottoman Empire being the most recent occupier, until its reunification with Greece after the Balkan Wars between 1912 and 1913. Therefore, the title captures the essence of Chios, whose past has, in a sense, been a ‘foreign country’. But this phrase also applies on a personal level, as many people have a past that they wish to leave behind.

In selecting the Hammam and the mosque as venues, Akis was particularly interested in the fact that they are both monuments, hence, authentic windows into the past. He described them with a very evocative expression, namely “monumental taxidermies”. This suggests that, although the names of both buildings define them in their historical role and function, in reality, they have assumed multiple roles over the centuries, adapting to the changing times.

Within the ancient walls of the Hammam, among the many exhibited artworks, we find those of Nikomachi Karakostanoglou, Yorgos Petrou, and Hera Buyuktascian. In 1881, a catastrophic earthquake devastated the island, causing widespread destruction and serious loss of life. Looking on the bright side, the restoration of the Ottoman baths led to the fantastic discovery of numerous tiles that adorned this space.

Entering the building, through the entrance and the welcoming area, the visitor steps into the threshold of the grand hall, characterized by a central dome adorned with small holes through which natural light comes in. Exactly at the center of the room, beneath the dome, one could admire the sculptures of Nikomachi, called Cross Section (Fig. 1 and 2), which evoke deep emotions. Despite her frequent visits to the Hammam of Athens, and despite her familiarity with the ritual of ablution and body purification, she never imagined that this place could hold such strong significance. For her, the Ottoman bath is an oasis of liberation from invisible burdens, a place to release and literally wash away negative thoughts, fatigue, and accumulated stress along with the water.

Fig. 1 Installation view, Ottoman Baths, 2023. Courtesy of Nikomachi Karakostanoglou

Fig. 2 Nikomachi Karakostanoglou, Cross Section, 2023, clay. Courtesy of the artist. Photo: Nikos Alexopoulos.

Her clay sculptures pay tribute to the generations of her family originating from Smyrna, a city that experienced the dramatic events of the Greco-Turkish War of the 1920s, including the subsequent fire. After the Greek defeat, many people of Greek and Armenian descent were forced to leave the city, migrating to Greece, including Chios. In fact, because of the waves of fleeing refugees, the island’s Ottoman bath served as a shelter, besides the mosque.

Nikomachi therefore represents the third generation of refugees from Smyrna. Her sculptures, with surfaces as smooth as a child’s skin, exude history, migratory traumas, and multiple hidden layers of family narratives. The clay––a material chosen with a specific purpose––symbolizes the earth itself, her roots. Indeed, as the artist stated, “it’s very important to know where we come from, because our roots are our strength”. But it was Nikomachi’s creative process that unveiled the heart of her works. By cutting the sculptures in half, she revealed their internal layers, exposing their vulnerable core. For Nikomachi it was certainly a therapeutic process, but also painful, allowing her to lay bare her creations along with herself.

Hera presented An Ode to a Distant Spring (Fig. 3), a piece that, in its simplicity and elegance, carried a powerful message. The Hammam is a place familiar to the artist, as she has exhibited in a similar location in the past. As clearly visible from the photograph, the artwork is intimately tied to the place where it is exhibited, but what may not be immediately apparent is the multitude of interesting aspects it connects to.

From an ancient hole where water used to pour, Hera replaced the liquid flow with a long fabric of beautiful blue hue, decorated with fragments of soap. This fabric, called “Tulbent” in Turkish, is commonly used for scrubbing the skin during bathing. Moreover, the installation is linked to her previous work from 2013 titled IN SITU, where, quoting the artist, she aimed at “transmitting the recollections of a space through fragments, into another space afar, that embodies a shared notion of movement through cyclic currents that carry people, objects, narratives and memories throughout time”.

 

Fig. 3 Hera Buyuktascian, An Ode to a Distant Spring, 2023. Courtesy of Hera Buyuktascian

In An Ode to a Distant Spring, Hera employs soap fragments as a visual oxymoron: with their soft and malleable consistency, they allude to architectural fragments, like the stone of the building itself. These pieces simultaneously become an emblem of human memory and its fleeting nature. Memories fade, and stories pass into oblivion, washing away with a rinse of warm water. However, the artist also defined them as “particles of time”, as they are sometimes capable of resisting complete disappearance, continuing to be part of the tissue of time.

Yorgos’s participation in the exhibition is closely tied to its insular location. The concept of an island itself holds significant importance in his artistic practice, especially considering his roots in Cyprus. By its very nature, the island stands as a land isolated from others, with the sea serving both as a connecting and distancing element.

Reflecting on his personal experience as a queer person, Yorgos emphasizes the importance of fluidity and connection within the queer community. He sees a metaphorical relationship between queerness and liquid elements as expressions of identity and experience. In conceiving his artwork titled Body Knows That Too (Fig. 4), Yorgos contemplated the notion of water and the Mediterranean Sea, reflecting on its power, complexity, and multiple meanings: from fluidity and transformation, to life, purification, and even danger. Indeed, considering that since 2015 there has been a significant increase in refugees and immigrants––and Chios, among other Greek islands, is still a welcoming point for the EU––the waters of the sea have sadly also become the tomb of countless people fleeing from war.

Fig. 4 Yorgos Petrou, Body Knows That Too, 2023. Photo and courtesy of the artist.

Inspired by these ideas, the artist sought to create something that would reflect the connection to water and involve liquid as an artistic element. The space where he exhibited his artwork, not coincidentally, was once occupied by the water tank of the Hammam. Hence, he metaphorically likened the Mediterranean to a water tank. The artwork therefore alludes to the fluids that once flowed through this ancient space. Yorgos chose to create a sculpture using silicone which resembles water when it is dry, giving it a shiny appearance to evoke the presence of a liquid element on the surface and simultaneously creating a monument. The sculpture, made by pouring foam and silicone onto the floor, represents a human figure, at times highly figurative and otherwise very abstract. The intent in creating this evocative sculpture, in terms of migration and queerness, could be summarized by Yorgos’ own words: “To bring something that is very often overlooked, not seen and unimportant, to the surface”.

At the center of Chios Castle, there is the Temenos Hamidiye, or Mbairakli Mosque, which also holds a poignant and tragic history. The mosque was built where once there used to be a Christian church. But then, during the dramatic earthquake of 1881, it was destroyed together with the lives of those who were praying inside. In remembrance of the victims, the mosque was subsequently rebuilt in 1892.

Inside this special venue, the exhibited works by Maro Michalakakos and Avish Khebrehzadeh (Fig. 5) merged into a unique visual experience, dominated by a blood-red hue. Upon entering the building, Maro’s initial reaction was of wonder and fascination at the sight of the balcony known as the Harem, the sole space reserved for women inside the mosque. Here, Maro vividly imagined velvet patterns, braids hanging from the balcony (Fig. 6). She wanted to clearly allude to hair as a powerful symbol of strength over time and how some cultures impose women to cover it.

Collaborating with Akis, they conceived the idea to create an installation conveying a connection with the sky and God: a huge red braid emerging from one of the circular windows, transforming into roots that penetrate in the pavement of the mosque (Fig. 5). This installation alludes to Maro’s previous project at Montélimar Castle in France, which was once a prison. The artist had covered the castle’s windows with shaved velvet, obscuring the view from the outside but still allowing visitors inside to observe the outside world. This experience inspired Maro to conceive an installation which reflected on the concept of visibility and invisibility, especially considering that women were visible only from inside the building. At this point, Akis suggested covering some of the mosque’s windows with velvet and scratching them, evoking the tragic event of the earthquake and the losses suffered right in this place (Fig. 7).

Fig. 5 Installation view, Temenos Hamidiye, 2023. Courtesy of Maro Michalakakos. Photo: Nikos Alexopoulos.

Fig. 6 Maro Michalakakos, To All of Us, 2023, braid woven out of bloodred. Courtesy of the artist. Photo: Nikos Alexopoulos.

 

Fig. 7 Installation view, Temenos Hamidiye, 2023. Courtesy of Maro Michalakakos. Photo: Nikos Alexopoulos.

 

My Past is a Foreign Country was undoubtedly an exhibition that evoked great emotion, but especially sparked deep reflection, addressing historical themes intricately connected to contemporary issues. Nikomachi emphasized the sense of community and belonging among the participating artists, highlighting that “the Mediterranean Sea is a country on its own. We are all part of something that we are connected to and that we share”. By exhibiting in these two locations, a “common ground” was created, as Hera said. In fact, the very words of this artist summarize quite comprehensively what such a group show evoked: “this togetherness and the space itself enabled multiple voices from various landscapes and timelines to emerge as a poem in common”. And when conventional language itself is not enough, art becomes a language of its own, capable of playing a fundamental role in raising social, political issues and injustices. Art cannot be reduced to mere ornamentation, as it has the potential to be an authentic means of expression and reflection on the reality that surrounds us. In short, as Maro claimed, “a good work of art can touch someone deep in the heart and raise questions”.

The deep layers of history, still palpable within the walls of the Chios Castle, bear witness to collective traumas and scars. And the artworks that were exhibited certainly alluded to this––but also to hope, rebirth and, of course, to the artists’ roots. It is precisely because of these shared experiences that Akis Kokkinos conceived this exhibition, to open the doors and invite artists from different backgrounds, each carrying their own baggage of stories, to relive and share such memories with all of us.