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Abstract

“Well, what can I do here?”. You’re just feeling useless. And for a creative person, it’s not easy. Especially when the project aimed to allow me to develop all the ideas I had.So, I tried to let it go. It requires daily self-reasoning, but I managed to do so. At least that’s what I thought, but it wasn’t really the case.Since that concert, things have changed. In the beginning, I was concentrating on photography, looking for the best angle, and enjoying the B&W photographs I could take. I tried not to disturb the audience in my movements. But I saw they didn’t mind. They were talking loud and I sometimes could hardly appreciate the music. But then I didn’t mind. Because they are traditional songs aimed to make people enjoy the moment. And people did so.I took the time to observe them. They were talking, laughing, and sometimes singing all together when the song, I suppose, was famous. They were happy. As I watched them, I began to feel that something was changing inside me.They were living in the moment, and that’s how I started to let go.<h2 id="28d0">My way of seeing culture</h2>Since we arrived in Crete, I missed a lot of the cultural dynamics of Paris, especially the museums and art exhibitions. The thought of my experience here being soon disrupted by this absence was worrying me. Of course, I knew I couldn’t find this here, and it wasn’t the aim. When you decide to go to a different place, far from the hectic pace of big cities, you cannot wait for the same offer. It’s the opposite, and I was okay with it. Or so I thought. My contradictory nature returned at a gallop.Fortunately, I had an incredible opportunity to discover the <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4gE0AefTqZg&feature=youtu.be">Rizitico</a> traditional Cretan song. It was in a singing workshop I was able to apply for, at the beginning of November. During the workshop, I felt both connected to them, and at the same time, completely outside — in the non-integrated sense. I realized the necessity of belonging to this culture to understand it, as well as to master the language. I was angry at myself for not being able to, especially as the trainees from abroad seemed to have a good knowledge of Greek and to understand the depth of the songs. As a foreigner, I thought it would take me many years to integrate into Cretan life.The concert at Gaïdaros proved the

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contrary to me. While taking photographs and videos of the musicians came a moment when my SD card was full, and I had to stop. I stood on my chair, just near the musicians. I’ve gradually been able to fully embrace their music. And then… Their voices, their music, their songs… I felt the same thrill as at classic jazz concerts in Paris.At that point, I knew I made the connection with the local culture.Since then, I feel much better about the way I feel integrated. Above all, I realized I don’t need to be Cretan to feel integrated. That barrier I’d put up for myself has finally come down.<h2 id="337d">My approach to language</h2>Before the concert, I was going through a difficult phase with the language. I put a lot of pressure on myself. I knew I needed to get out of it to let go, but I didn’t know how. Since then, I put Greek aside and stopped trying to speak or learn any words. Because looking up the definition of the same word every time you see it is very demotivating.Then came the concert. At the same time as I was experimenting with letting go, my language barriers were coming down. I realized this at the end of the concert, by the ease with which I dared to speak in Greek.Once back home, I spent the evening doing my “Greek homework” that I had postponed. I wrote without having to use the dictionary after each word with a free spirit to allow myself to make mistakes. Just having fun doing it.The day after, at my Greek lesson, I felt fine and enjoyed speaking in Greek again. The same joy as when we came here on holiday.The following weekend, we invited our neighborhood for dinner for the first time. They came with pleasure, and we enjoyed speaking in Greek and English. I found myself speaking much more Greek than I’d imagined despite my mistakes. I let go and allowed myself to speak without fear of making mistakes. I accepted this, and it didn’t in any way harm the exchanges we were able to have — quite the contrary!I couldn’t imagine all that this concert would provide for me. Listening to this beautiful music helped me to adopt a posture of welcome and let myself be transformed. This was the impetus I needed to open up to this experience and free myself from the resistance that persisted inside.That’s the magic of art and artists: they connect us to ourselves and to the world.</article></body>

LIFE EXPERIENCE

What a Concert of Traditional Cretan Music Has Changed For Me…

…in the way I experience my expatriation

Gianni Chinos and Alexandro Ieronimidis at Gaïdaros, Vamos, December 2023 — Photo by author

It was two weeks ago at the bar Gaïdaros at Vamos, Crete. My neighbor, an instrument maker, told me he was giving a concert on Sunday. Great! As I spend daily time with him by taking photographs and videos while he’s making instruments, I thought it would be nice as well to take my camera and picture him playing. I knew I would appreciate the music and the mood in this famous bar, but I didn’t expect so much emotion and change inside.

Change in many ways.

My way of seeing life

Something happened during the concert that enabled me to let go. Indeed, since we moved to Crete at the end of August, I haven’t been able to take it easy — “siga siga” as they say here (slowly slowly), so hard for me.

Being in another country of its own free will with the whole family is something exciting. Something we have been dreaming about for so long. But when you’re living in a country, it’s not the same magic as when you’re on holiday. Thus, I was surprised and disappointed not to be able to feel the magic. Basically, worries about finding work took over.

I heard some years ago Leïla Slimani, a French writer, saying that the most beautiful aspect of human beings is their contradictory nature. Well, I recognize myself 100%! What I was looking for here is exactly what I find the most difficult to do: living in the moment. Letting go is something I’ve already experienced, but unlike cycling, it’s not something you can take for granted.

The opportunity of living something else, trying to develop ideas that had been buried in my brain for too long, was so enjoyable. But every creative idea was killed little by little:

_ This idea here? Are you kidding? No, no, forget it! It won’t work here for sure!”, I was told.

Then morale started to take a hit.

Because when you are used to working and producing every day, you cannot stop and appreciate the moment without thinking “Well, what can I do here?”. You’re just feeling useless. And for a creative person, it’s not easy. Especially when the project aimed to allow me to develop all the ideas I had.

So, I tried to let it go. It requires daily self-reasoning, but I managed to do so. At least that’s what I thought, but it wasn’t really the case.

Since that concert, things have changed. In the beginning, I was concentrating on photography, looking for the best angle, and enjoying the B&W photographs I could take. I tried not to disturb the audience in my movements. But I saw they didn’t mind. They were talking loud and I sometimes could hardly appreciate the music. But then I didn’t mind. Because they are traditional songs aimed to make people enjoy the moment. And people did so.

I took the time to observe them. They were talking, laughing, and sometimes singing all together when the song, I suppose, was famous. They were happy. As I watched them, I began to feel that something was changing inside me.

They were living in the moment, and that’s how I started to let go.

My way of seeing culture

Since we arrived in Crete, I missed a lot of the cultural dynamics of Paris, especially the museums and art exhibitions. The thought of my experience here being soon disrupted by this absence was worrying me. Of course, I knew I couldn’t find this here, and it wasn’t the aim. When you decide to go to a different place, far from the hectic pace of big cities, you cannot wait for the same offer. It’s the opposite, and I was okay with it. Or so I thought. My contradictory nature returned at a gallop.

Fortunately, I had an incredible opportunity to discover the Rizitico traditional Cretan song. It was in a singing workshop I was able to apply for, at the beginning of November. During the workshop, I felt both connected to them, and at the same time, completely outside — in the non-integrated sense. I realized the necessity of belonging to this culture to understand it, as well as to master the language. I was angry at myself for not being able to, especially as the trainees from abroad seemed to have a good knowledge of Greek and to understand the depth of the songs. As a foreigner, I thought it would take me many years to integrate into Cretan life.

The concert at Gaïdaros proved the contrary to me. While taking photographs and videos of the musicians came a moment when my SD card was full, and I had to stop. I stood on my chair, just near the musicians. I’ve gradually been able to fully embrace their music. And then… Their voices, their music, their songs… I felt the same thrill as at classic jazz concerts in Paris.

At that point, I knew I made the connection with the local culture.

Since then, I feel much better about the way I feel integrated. Above all, I realized I don’t need to be Cretan to feel integrated. That barrier I’d put up for myself has finally come down.

My approach to language

Before the concert, I was going through a difficult phase with the language. I put a lot of pressure on myself. I knew I needed to get out of it to let go, but I didn’t know how. Since then, I put Greek aside and stopped trying to speak or learn any words. Because looking up the definition of the same word every time you see it is very demotivating.

Then came the concert. At the same time as I was experimenting with letting go, my language barriers were coming down. I realized this at the end of the concert, by the ease with which I dared to speak in Greek.

Once back home, I spent the evening doing my “Greek homework” that I had postponed. I wrote without having to use the dictionary after each word with a free spirit to allow myself to make mistakes. Just having fun doing it.

The day after, at my Greek lesson, I felt fine and enjoyed speaking in Greek again. The same joy as when we came here on holiday.

The following weekend, we invited our neighborhood for dinner for the first time. They came with pleasure, and we enjoyed speaking in Greek and English. I found myself speaking much more Greek than I’d imagined despite my mistakes. I let go and allowed myself to speak without fear of making mistakes. I accepted this, and it didn’t in any way harm the exchanges we were able to have — quite the contrary!

I couldn’t imagine all that this concert would provide for me. Listening to this beautiful music helped me to adopt a posture of welcome and let myself be transformed. This was the impetus I needed to open up to this experience and free myself from the resistance that persisted inside.

That’s the magic of art and artists: they connect us to ourselves and to the world.