Post-Byzantine Art: The Cretan School
In the fourth part of his series on Byzantine icons, Nikos Stavroulakis examines the development of iconography after the Turkish conquest of Constantinople.
In the fourth part of his series on Byzantine icons, Nikos Stavroulakis examines the development of iconography after the Turkish conquest of Constantinople.
Modern man is not alone in his obsession with time; in fact, the tendency to make a fetish or a game out of time pieces stretches far back into antiquity.
FEW statesmen of modern times have been called upon to take the reins of government under worse conditions than those that greeted Costas Karamanlis.
The chaos of the Latin States which resulted from the Fourth Crusade’s seizure of Constantinople in 1204 did not succeed in extinguishing either Byzantium or its heritage. Both the usurping Latin ‘Empire’ as well as the Frankish principalities and dukedoms produced a veneer of Western affectations that was met by the conservative hatred of both the Orthodox clergy and the laity who waited patiently for the legitimate Empire to be re-established. Their hopes were not, however, simply the substance of dreams.
The young girls of Kalymnos sang their song of farewell, the wives and mothers wept as the diving boats left the harbor in slow formation, flags flapping in the breeze, newly-painted gunwales gleaming in the hard-white Aegean sunlight.
IN recent weeks the city has been quiet. It is a time of hard work for many and a time of assessment for others. Most people seem to be suffering from mild depression, to be expected after a year of horrendous events and in the face of the tragic situation in Cyprus.
The acquisition of Cyprus by Venice in 1489 was an empty triumph commercially — and commerce was the only thing that Venice ever considered. It was not Venetian rapacity alone, however, that laid Cyprus desolate, but the loss of its economically strategic position.
Dedicated to Athena, whose birthday ancient Athenians celebrated annually in late summer. Only a visitor of astonishing world-weariness or unusual strength of character can avoid visiting the Acropolis when in Athens.
It is now officially called by its ancient name, Thera, but the name Santorini — after its patron Saint Irene of Salonika — still carries a certain magic.
Long ago, but not so very far away, there lived a people fond of all the joys of life. They were elegant and refined, loved beauty and gay colours, and amused themselves with games and contests. They showed great ingenuity, were master builders, and used the sea to forge themselves trade links all over the Mediterranean.