The colourful Alphabet of painter Giannis Bekiaris

We went to his sanctuary.
When you enter the place where an artist creates, it feels as if you have stepped into the holiest of holies in a temple.

You don’t want to make any noise. You don’t want to disturb anything. Probably it’s this awe-inspiring feeling combined with an aura of mysticism that permeates the space.

It is a “bee colony” of new artists, the Absorb Αrts. A communal artistic house where everyone can create smoothly in a seamless and organic way.

-“Here are housed all my art works”.

I was really inspired by this line: “Here are housed all my art works.” Indeed, a roof over the heads of the art works, exactly as babies have their duvets.

He hugged me whispering “Thank you so much for coming” in my ear, enunciating every syllable to make sure that the words were not lost in the air.

My gaze rested on a piece of art and I jumped backwards as if an electric current had passed through me.

-“This is B!” I said in a very enthusiastic way.
He paused, and he replied with one word.
-“Yes.”
And, yes, indeed it was B, with a wonderful purple dress. A stunning purple. Gianni’s purple.
I realised that there was a story behind it.

-“I will tell you afterwards”, he said.

I realised when I was rather young that when people say: «I will explain it to you later», it’s better if you don’t ask them again to tell you what they had in mind. 
Because most of the time, they simply don’t want to share, they just say that to «win» some time and prevaricate. Unless they really want to share it with you at a specific time, under specific conditions, in their own way. 

If they want to share, they will share.
And he did.

We were seeing all his art works one by one, some of his art work was finished, some in progress.

I started gazing at his portraits. The figures of Giannis, his portraits, his love towards the female sex, towards our duality and complexity. You have the feeling that all his portraits hide a secret. A secret that they want to share with you. And everybody “hears” his own secret. As many secrets as all the hidden parts of the female gender.

People continued coming and going and I asked him at some point:

-“When did you start painting?”

Somebody interrupted us, but he answered while trying to keep his glasses in place. 

-“I started painting when you started painting.”
I looked at him, really puzzled. And he continued:
-“Everybody paints from the moment he holds a colored marker or a pen in his hands. We stop painting when we start censoring ourselves, when somebody points out to us a lack of talent, or when we persuade ourselves that we don’t paint properly. This is one of the mistakes of our educational system, but this is another discussion.”

There is something ethereal about Giannis. But at the same time he is solid, compact and precise. As if you had placed parquet flooring on a cloud. He flies, but he knows in which direction, with what speed, and he always looks behind him. He has a schedule. In the mornings his art takes a therapeutic shape and when he finishes with his wonderful “kids”, he isolates himself in his sanctuary. He paints but lately he also creates other art objects; he chisels the wood, he gives shape to it and he transforms it to useful objects.

He also moved to London, from Athens. One of many who did the same. But he holds Greece in himself, and this is something I discovered from his lights and his colours. They have something blinding. They have the light of the South.

 

I asked him about the colours as he was mixing a paintbrush with water. And I thought that they were getting mixed the same way the lives of people get wet and tousled.

-“I think about the colours before I start painting, I see them inside me, but I also change my mind as a work progresses.”

This phrase “I see them inside me” rang a bell and reminded me of what the composer Evanthia Rempoutsika once told me, that she “hears the music inside her.”
The art is “inside us.” “Inside us” all the work is done. Inside the artists the art is being gestated. And when they finally create, it is simply the moment of birth, way after all the painful and grinding gestation.

At some point I asked him about the artists of the 21st century:

-“What’s your opinion about all these artists of the modern art, that they might just throw a paint on a canvas, or just presenting a white canvas?” (we saw that at Tate)

-“Everybody just creates what he can, some people probably they can’t”, he said while he was pushing back his eyeglasses, to rivet them.

-This amazing teacher of mine in New York, Roxana Stuart used to  say: “To consider something as a form of art, a simple, unrefined way is to judge if what you hear/see, etc. can be done from everybody. If it can’t, if it includes a level of rarity and difficulty, probably it is on the right path to be considered art. Do you agree?”

-There is a point here, he said.

And then a beautiful discussion started in between some snacks, some drinks, and the constant coming and going of people. Until we were interrupted by his goddaughter saying “I want to pee”.
“This is art,” I told him. “This little girl.”
He nodded, trying to return his eyeglasses onto his nose. And at that very moment I realized that he tries to prop up his eyeglasses as often as he smiles. 

And as I was leaving, I was sure that we will see much more from Giannis Bekiaris.

The future is being painted at this very moment and it is so promising.

 

The colourful Alphabet of Giannis Bekiaris

I gave Giannis these 24 verbs and with his answers he summarises, his alphabet, his personal code; his great wonderful colourful world. 

A.

I cherish the morning wake up, with the first crack of dawn

B.

I suffer when I have something on my mind but I can’t do it at that precise moment.

 C.

“I grow older the way I lived” said once my wife  and I turned it into my life motto. Because this is the only way for someone to appreciate the present without worrying about the future.

D.

I tame my dyslexia.

E.

I trust people.

F.

I paint with yearning, with patience and spontaneity trying to get out of the convenient shell of my prudence, as Kazantzakis once said.

G.

I find peace in Vouta and in Apeirantho.

H.

I cure the old objects that I come across. I bring them back to life.

Ι.

Ι please my desires.

J.

I am filled with pride at the achievements of people important to me.

K. 

I feel sorry for people who punish themselves.

L.

Ι rarely censure somebody.

M.

I legalise my right το rest.

N.

I smell my materials and new techniques.

O.

Ι banish nobody and nothing. Whatever happened, happened for a reason.

P.

Ι beguile myself into new experiences and ideas.

Q.

Ι reflect upon the greatness of nature.

R. 

Ι stick my head in the sand less and less.

S.

I am lucky to have so much luck.

T.

Ι am wanting of a strong imagination.

U.

Ι “envelope” whoever or whatever attracts my attention

V.

I smile more.

W.                    

Ι fault myself before anybody else.

X-Y-Z

Ι  beautify in the sense that I make everyday something beautiful