The work is exhibited at the Museum of Byzantine Culture

Black Birds
«He knew many jobs, but all equally bad»

The process of constructing the work titled Black Birds constitutes a good example of an incomplete work, where the completion of one stage automatically opens the door to the next. It seems as though the work is trying to escape its very self without the slightest delay. Nevertheless, the artist enters a state of absolute dependence; the work throws him into the flow of the river and carries him away into unforeseen directions.
    When I received the photographs of the atrium of the Thessaloniki Museum of Byzantine Culture, I associated it in my mind with the work of René Magritte titled Homesickness. This work portrays a black angel looking down from a stone parapet that looks very much like the walls of the Museum of Byzantine Culture. Lying down next to the angel is a lion, which poses the following question to the viewer: What is the angel looking at? I wondered the same thing. Relatively soon the image of another painting by Magritte titled Golconda came to mind, where black men in ties holding briefcases fall (like rain) from the sky (perhaps they are flying in the sky like crows, or perhaps they have frozen forever in space, carrying their thoughts). I saw the situation as a whole – the black angel stood still and watched the black male figures that were falling to the earth. His attention was also drawn by a divine melody. The men sang while standing still. The music fascinated the black angel, who spread his wings and ascended above the parapet.
    Thus, through this association of ideas I started working on my project. It appeared to me however that I had not guessed something to the end. I delved into the study of ancient Greek literature and its scholiasts, and after some time I came across a name that made me rub my eyes and laugh for a while. In a chapter on Homer, Aristotle mentions that the mock epic titled Margites, which is attributed to this epic poet, was equally important to Greek comedy as the Iliad or Odyssey was to tragedy. So, did you know about this alleged work by Homer that is just as significant as the Iliad? I personally had not heard of it, and so I looked it up immediately. My search led me to only nine lines, in some cases to simple phrases, whatever has been salvaged till today.

There came to Colophon an old man and divine singer,
a servant of the Muses and of far-shooting Apollo.
In his dear hands he held a sweet-toned lyre.


Him then the Gods made neither a delver nor a ploughman,
nor in any other way wise. He failed every art.

He knew many things, but he knew them badly.

The fox knows many a wile; but the hedgehog's one trick can beat them all.

… he got up and left the warm bed-clothes

… he opened the door and ran outside

… like when Hercules


These nine phrases are unique, and together with the title they constitute the absolute womb of contemporary western culture, where self-irony constitutes the basis of the post-modern way of thinking. See, the very title, Margites, refers to a silly, foolish, babbling man who knows a number of jobs, but knows them all equally badly. This character is encountered in hundreds of literary works. It is, after all, the figure of the contemporary artist, whom the gods have made neither a labourer nor a ploughman, and whom they have allowed only one occupation: to play the fool. Foolish Margites is so frightened on his wedding night that he runs away. Could this not be the foundation of Freudian theory? While the figure of Hercules, who, following his initial fear, returns to his bride (does this not today allude to Jung’s theory of collective unconscious?), is the figure of the mythological hero that hides within us all.
    It is unbelievable how the burlesque combination of Margites and Magritte conveys the different types of men – ranging from the wild man, the maniac, the fool as the lonely observer, the man who occupies himself with foolish things, the tyrant, the liar as the coward who trembles with fear before people, the Chekhovian man to the beast that fragments itself. (Are these not the monsters that women have been dealing with everyday for the past millenniums?)
    The black angel watches these black male figures with surprise and does not understand how it is possible that such a divine melody of self-irony and love can come out of these monsters. He is bound down by his failure to understand this divine thought; he cannot detect any spiritual qualities in these male creatures; these monsters will always combine lechery with honour, audacity with courage, cruelty with self-sacrifice, and narcissism with low self-esteem. Where are these black birds with the white collars flying from and where are they going? These birds will never find their homes; each stop on the way will make them all the more aware of their loneliness. And at this point the angel hears the frightening roar of the lion coming from behind him…