On Time and Courage
Far Away, There, by the Sea (2006)
Despite the recent tendency – especially among the cultured segments of our society – to overcomplicate the definition of one’s life purpose, it may be that we are born with the single intent to create ourselves. We emerge from an undefined sphere and dissolve into the unknown, and within this timeless continuum, we are given the gift of time which allows us to evolve. The tangible expressions of our actions – what we tend to regard as our life’s oeuvre and legacy – may often seem to be our raison d’etre, but usually, they are just the means to a higher end. For, it is only through the wobbling steps of our experimentations that we finally shed light onto the unchartered territory we call “self”. Ultimately, time – the archenemy that relentlessly ticks the countdown towards our departure – becomes our trusted companion and benevolent ally.
The slow pace of this personal unfolding calls for courage – a quality which becomes the decisive differentiating factor among the various forms of creation. It is courage that makes us bold enough to venture into the unknown, patient in anticipation of the desired outcome, and persistent in the face of adversity. Ultimately, it is somewhere along the geographic coordinates of time and courage that one’s unique journey is defined.
The above thoughts may sound vague and philosophical; however, they surfaced as a profound understanding during my latest visit to an exhibition dedicated to Yiannis Moralis: one of the most acclaimed Greek visual artists of the 20th century. For the first time, it dawned to me that such presentations that cover the evolution of an artist over time provide an excellent visual, and, hence, tangible, display of the creative process, eventually offering a revelation connected to the art of living.
I am not a painter myself, and my knowledge of the specific craft is limited. However, I invite you to join me in retracing my steps through the halls of the Benaki Museum, exploring not just the artistry of each composition but, above all, the boldness inherent in the lines, the determination rooted in each study, and the transformation of the artist as he resolves, over time, on the components that will ultimately define him.
Yiannis Moralis was born in 1916 in a provincial town of Greece. He entered the Athens School of Fine Arts as a whizz kid at the age of 15, studied for a while in Rome and Paris, and returned on the eve of World War II to Greece, where he continued his career until the end of his life in 2009. He became the youngest and longer-lasting professor in the Athens School of Fine Arts, and thousands of artists passed by his classroom or atelier in search of their personal creative voice. He was treasured for his respect in the individuality of each of his students, and his acceptance of the fact that it takes time and experimentation for someone to finally draft a desired version of themselves. Although he was frequently commissioned for a portrait – which was a steady source of income, even though this side of his art did not evolve much throughout the years – his main contribution in the cultural scene was his evolution to the abstract art and cubism in which he blended elements from the Greek heritage and psyche.
Below, I share some of Moralis’ most distinctive paintings with comments presented to us by another painter who guided us through the halls of the museum.
Self-Portrait (1932). Painted by Moralis at the age of 16, the painting already shows the boldness of the artist who, despite his young age, does not shy away from experimenting with his composition. The painting is, of course, premature, yet, it is already promising. The influence of the post-impressionist style of his professors is evident.
Male nude (1931). A study of the human body in which some of Moralis’ favourite elements (like the thick lines that outline the shape, or the energy inherent in the texture of the skin) can already be detected.
Female Nude (1936). It was this painting that got him the scholarship to continue his studies in Rome. When comparing to the previous male nude, we see that this painting was – probably on purpose – more conventional and less bold.
Self-portrait (1938). This is an experimentation using techniques and colours from the Fauvism movement.
Portrait of sculptor Yannis Pappas (1938). An excellent portrait, indicative of the artist’s talent and capacity to capture an individual’s character on canvas.
Agia Paraskevi (1941). Landscapes were not Moralis’ favourite subject matter and we find very few among his work. Landscapes were often used by the Impressionists in Europe in order to study the light and its effects. Impressionism never flourished in Greece, since the light on the Greek land is of a completely different substance. In summer, this light becomes blinding, consuming forms and colours alike. There is something internal and divine in the presence of light in Greece – and this is what most Greek artists tried to capture through a post-impressionist movement and its evolution.
Pregnant woman (1948). This is the artist’s second wife, pregnant with his only child. There have been many discussions about the apple that she holds in her hand. However, Moralis himself explained that he did not have (consciously) any symbolism in his mind while using it. It was just good for the balance of the composition.
The Artist with his Wife (1942-3). This is one of the best (and best-known) paintings of a couple in modern Greek art. Note how the white of the shirt is balanced with the shoes of the woman.
Two Girl Friends (1946). Moralis asked the sculptor Natalia Mela (in front) to paint her portrait because her fair complexion reminded him of Fayyoum portraits. She accepted provided that she would pose with a friend of hers, the sculptor Aglaia Lymberaki (who later became Moralis’ second wife). Note how the intensity of the red of the dress is “stopped” by the two hands and the stick they hold, while the composition is further balanced by the white triangle of Lymberakis’ blouse.
Figure (1951), Sitting Figure (1952), Figure (1953). Arguably the most impressive triptych in modern Greek art. Each painting stands alone (and they were exhibited separately until united again for this exhibition). The movement of the hands in each figure creates a wave across all three panels, which balances the strong blocks of colour that define the backgrounds.
Composition III (1952-58). We can already observe the movement of the artist to more abstract forms. The domination of the female figure is also quite obvious by now. Indeed, Moralis found inspiration in the curves and femininity of a woman’s figure, and male presence (when included) serves only as some kind of a catalyst.
Funerary composition (1958). A well-known painting of Moralis exhibited for many years in the National Gallery of Athens. Note how the background starts playing a more important role as opposed to previous works. Also, compare the nude studies of the past with these figures that have become much more minimalistic and, yet, remain expressive and dramatic.
Daydreaming (1959) – on the left. Funerary Composition (1958) – on the right. In these two paintings, Moralis turns towards a 2-dimensional reality. It is worth noting that the funerary compositions are inspired by the ancient Greek stelae found on tombs.
Spring II (1963-66). A much larger version of this painting was given as a gift by Moralis to the composer Manos Chatzidakis. It is said that he arranged for it to be installed in Chatzidakis’ house when the composer was travelling, so as to surprise him.
Couple (1963). A stunning composition where the simplicity of the form and the geometric structure of the figures takes nothing away from the sentimentality and passion involved. The dark, thick outline (echoing the Byzantine art) remains a typical element in Moralis’ art.
Nude (1962). I added this painting in the collection of this article just as another example of the evolution of the study on a naked body.
Black Angel on a Yellow Ground (1964). The composition is simply amazing, while the geometric designs are still meaningful and not entirely abstract.
Portrait of Despina Geroulanou (1982). Moralis continues to paint portraits despite the fact that his focus is by now elsewhere. It is said that demand for his portraits was so high that he had printed a card saying “I don’t do portraits anymore” to hand to any person who would approach him with such intentions. This one is exceptionally beautiful, as it is made with a limited range of colours and a simplicity that remains expressive.
Girl Undoing her Sandal (1973). A theme that reminds of the nymph on the temple of Athena Nike on the Acropolis Rock. Note how the curves on the right are balanced by the angles on the left, to maintain the intensity of the painting.
Erotic (1993). A painting made out of a few geometric forms, a few curves, and a few lines with such a clear sensuality that it could not have any other title. The boldness of a black rectangular on the bottom left demonstrates the confidence of the painter in the solidity of the composition.
Time (1983). I felt it was an apt addition to this article and its theme.
Full Moon M’ (1977-78). Note how the light – so elusive in the European impressionists – emanates from within, coming not just from the soul of the landscape but the essence of the Greek psyche that has been fed on the light since time immemorial.
Reflection (2007). It is the last work of Moralis, painted in Aegina during the summer of 2007. The artist revisits an earlier masterpiece (Composition I, 1949-1958), but reverses the position of the hands and the viewing angle.
Photo credits: © Konstantina Sakellariou.
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