Vision
and Division, Part 2
Rinos Stefani (details
to follow)
Artists in the south have
experienced the past 29 years of separation differently. The Turkish
Cypriots might have light pockets, but Greek Cypriot artists have had
another kind of pain. In a much more severe way than the artists in
the north, Greek Cypriots have been watching commercial developers destroy
their landscape. Hills in the south part of Cyprus bear an underlying
rhythm of handmade contour planes which, now grown over with feral grape
vines and haggard olive trees, betray the dead agrarian past. The south
is doomed because of Europeans speculating on real estate before Cyprus
joins the European Union. Of course the artists are making money: the
more concrete walls poured, the more walls that may need artwork.
Rinos Stefani is a Greek Cypriot born in the Paphos District of Cyprus.
He spent some ten years studying art in London and working abroad, and
then returned permanently to his native village of Tala. Stephani can
most easily be located in his "field," which is an expanse
of recently planted olive trees near his home, and near his parents'
home. "My father grew barley, wheat, he had orchards and olive
groves, vineyards - he made wine - he had carob trees, and goats, and
donkeys..." He says about his painting, which is deeply rooted
in the figure-in-landscape tradition in Cyprus, "I grew up in the
land. I love the earth... [as subject matter], it's spontaneous."
He has also worked on several bicommunal projects, and is an active
member of the Union of Cypriot Artists (EKATE). In May, the Heliotropeion
Gallery in Larnaca had some forty paintings in a show of his recent
work. Nearly all the work sold.
Stephani's metaphors of planting, plowing and reaping modify the obscure
relations between men and women in his canvases on display in the gallery.
These paintings juggle poetic,
erotic stories with acts of building highways, planting trees, and going
to the village fountain. They are personally narrative, directly inspired
by the Stephani's life which is planted in the changing economy. The
exact meanings, however, are as obscure as the source of Stephani's
laugh. His work expands beyond his modestly sized canvases. The colors
are stray, almost unmixed, and reminiscent of the odd amalgam found
in archaeological mosaics. The taut, linear compositions are equally
archaic - rhyming with the lines drawn on jugs and plates from Mediterranean
antiquity. Stephani however, most likely does not spend much time in
archaeological museums. This is the autochthonous, "spontaneous"
visual language to which he alludes when talking about landscape painting.
He has managed, without nostalgia, to depict his personal geography
in the threatened environment.
Acknowledging that artists have a "minor" role in the politics
of Cyprus, Stephani expresses his opinion: "... the sudden changes
at the border created a temporary sentiment... But there's no solution
to the real problem, which is the occupation of northern Cyprus by the
Turkish army. For me, it's an opportunity to meet Turkish Cypriot friends,
artists, and I can get a handful of earth..."
Yiannis Toumazis underlines what Stephani said about the politics: "If
I were an artist I would be thinking about the return-no-return [that
we have] here. Nothing is crystallized... It is exciting, but there's
still a regime; there's still an army." Toumazis is the Director
of the Municipal Art Center of Nicosia (the Power House). He is also
the source of my connection to Ashik Mene, who used to visit the Municipal
Arts Center up until 1995 - before the Turkish Cypriot authorities clamped
down on communication. "Really, he said, "from nothing, there
are now many new opportunities. This is a huge change. Hopefully it
will... have an affect on [Cypriot art]. If not, nothing will."
Elizabeth Doering is a sculptor based in Philadelphia, PA. She has
spent three of the last six years in the Republic of Cyprus, where she
originally went as a Fulbright scholar in 1997. Her work is inspired
by ethnography and modern politics - recent results of this match range
from sculptures that make drawings in the wind (for Armenia 2002), and
the "Church of Memory" (for Cyprus 2001). She is currently
a fellow at the Solomon Asch Center for the Study of Ethnopolitical
Conflict (at the University of Pennsylvania), where she is exploring
the ways in which visual art, specifically monumental works, can act
as a medium for gentle dialogue and individual relief, in areas torn
by inter-communal struggle. She is artist in residence at the Philadelphia
Episcopal Cathedral, and spends the academic year teaching sculpture
to undergraduates at the University of Pennsylvania.
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