Athens with Agathi Dimitrouka

I had the great good fortune of spending a few days in Athens last October with the renowned poet and author, Agathi Dimitrouka. We had met when she visited Cambridge for a concert in honor of her life and work partner, the lyricist and poet, Nikos Gatsos (1911-1992) whose archive was being installed at Harvard’s Houghton Library. Even before she arrived for the concert, I felt I had known her for years, having become so immersed in the very personal program content she had provided. Agathi’s care of the Gatsos Archive was as intimate as that extended to a living and breathing loved one. I sense that for Agathi, it is important for readers of her own work, as well as Gatsos’, to feel that intimate connection.

Agathi was born in Pentalofos, Messolonghi, in 1958. She spent 17 years with Nikos Gatsos until his death in 1992. Since that time, Agathi has continued to be a prolific writer, poet, translator and teacher while also meticulously caring for the vast archive of Gatsos, one of Greece’s most beloved poets. She also has written numerous children’s books that are used in many elementary schools in Greece.

I was honored that Agathi would take time away from her busy schedule to spend three hours with me scouring the galleries at the Benaki Museum: something I had not done in years. We recovered with orange cake and coffee at a nearby café, and shared stories of how we managed through the pandemic. During the most restrictive periods of the lockdown, Agathi worked from her home in Athens, writing, translating and teaching virtually.

Agathi has a particular affinity for the Spanish language, not unlike Gatsos who was drawn to, and translated the work of Lorca. (Lorca’s themes and style, merging tradition with modernism, became part of the cultural and literary traditions of Greece that emerged after the Asia Minor Catastrophe.) Agathi makes an annual visit to the postgraduate Translation in Spanish Language class at the National and Kapodistrian University of Athens, sharing her experiences as a translator with the students. And, when the opportunity arises, she will jointly present her published translations from Spanish to Greek with the authors when they visit Greece, or virtually.

I could see the immersion into the work she loves offset some of the difficulties of pandemic isolation that caused many to languish.

We finished our coffee and agreed to meet next at the Ghika Gallery.

I have to thank Agathi for insisting we visit the Ghika Gallery, the former home of the artist Nikos Hadjikyriakos-Ghika (1906-1994) who donated it to the Benaki during his lifetime. Because the Ghika Gallery is only open on Fridays and Saturdays, I had missed this during prior trips. The Ghika Gallery was the vision and passion of Angelos Delivorias (1937-2018), archaeologist and director of the Benaki Museum, who described his life’s purpose concisely : “I dreamed of Greek timelessness, with all that this entails: the Greek language, the Greek soul,” The Ghika Gallery does just that.

The top two floors remain much as they were when the artist lived there with his wife, Maria, with the addition of some of Ghika’s artist implements from his studio. When we visited, the lower floors contained countless exhibits dedicated to artists, writers, and performers from that crucial period after the Asia Minor Catastrophe when Greece was free to cultivate a new cultural spirit. This group of creatives is referred to as “Γενιά του1930 – The 1930s Generation,” and the exhibition was part of the many events throughout Greece commemorating the 100th anniversary of the Asia Minor Catastrophe. Being with Agathi made all the difference, as she offered anecdotes and personal stories about many of these individuals. In the spirit of Delivorias’ vision, Agathi donated items which are on display. A particularly significant gift is a tape that Manos Hadjidakis (1925-1994) had sent to Gatsos from New York bearing a stamp featuring Eugene O’Neill, whose Long Day’s Journey into Night Gatsos had translated for Katina Paxinou (1900-1973) and Alexis Minotis (1900-1990) at the National Theatre, with music by Hadjidakis.

The Ghika Gallery is also where one can see the Nobel Prizes in Literature awarded to George Seferis in 1963, and Odysseas Elytis in 1979; and, the Lenin Peace Prize awarded to Yannis Ritsos in 1975. It was fascinating to see the depth of collaboration that occurred between artists, writers and performers at the time, inspired by the possibilities of a new, modernist voice in a freer Greece. The collection demonstrates how interwoven the various forms of Greek cultural expression were, and continue to be today.

Reluctantly, I left Agathi to prepare for my trip to the village the following day; but, not without the precious books she gave me. I can be a slow reader in Greek, but poetry should not be rushed anyway.

Agathi’s books can be found on her publisher’s website, patakis.gr, and from other online booksellers. One in particular, the autobiographical «πουλάμε τη ζωή, χρεώνουμε τον θάνατο», recently published in Italian by Palermo University Press, begs to be translated into English: the pages are absorbing and personal and full of information about Gatsos and his collaborators. I look forward to sharing news of a future collaboration with Agathi in the coming months.

S. Orphanos, 24 February 2023