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SKG

Thomas Korovinis
My Thessaloniki

[…] Thessaloniki is a poison for which there is no antidote. For me it is a life-sentence of ambivalence
between attraction and repulsion. A mystical force keeps me prisoner and – as though I am under its
spell – I will never abandon it. […] Η Θεσσαλονίκη είναι φαρμάκι χωρίς αντίδοτο. Ένας ισόβιος πόλος
έλξης και απώθησης. Μια μυστική δύναμη με κρατάει αιχμάλωτό της και –σαν να μου ’χει κάνει μάγια–
δεν θα την εγκαταλείψω ποτέ. […]

by Thomas Korovinis, author - songwriter

Thessaloniki has gone through the es, and that love-hungry look, sparking pects, this urban centre that has been in-
centuries with one foot in the East and burning with stiff desire – all gone! habited without interruption for centu-
and one in the West. She fit these two It looks as though we will no longer be ries does have some unique attributes.
elements together and bound them allowed to come on to anyone – will we It is a ‘Byzantine’ city par excellence,
through her historical course. Threats be arrested in flagrante delicto? – (and with its glorious and humble evoca-
by various enemies, successive refugee that will be all for ‘amorous’ Thessalon- tive churches; along with the walk along
waves, persecution and enslavement of iki!); we’ll be forced to stop calling the the Kastra, the old city walls, a visit to
its Greek population have been the sta- Gypsies we loved so Tzigane and, in- the city churches should be an unfailing
ples of her existence throughout the stead, call them Roma, by those who tourist attraction. The view of the en-
centuries. The multinational character privately call them Pikeys or Chavs and chanting sunset should draw painters to
of the peoples who have cohabited in would not even spit on them. The city’s capture it, as was the case with some Eu-
the city imbued it with a cosmopolitan Gypsies have been uprooted from their ropean soldiers in the beginning of the
air with Balkan and northern Mediter- mahalleler-quarters – with the excep- previous century, when the city was oc-
ranean notes. tion of Dendropotamos; our ear has cupied by its ‘Allied’ troops, before the
The 1922 wave of refugees of the Popu- forever lost the joy of their skilful or devastating fire of 1917. It’s not as if
lation Exchanges enriched the city with clumsy music that was heard in the city there is another city in the whole world,
the elite of Asia Minor and Thracian vacant lots or old kapeleia-taverns. where, on a clear day, one can come
Romioi; their traditions added a more Thessaloniki is a grand and privileged face-to-face with the peaks of Mt. Olym-
vernacular, sevdali-amorous colour. city, with a glorious, yet truly turbulent pus, can converse in one’s mind with
Older inhabitants had the chance to past, intense intercultural osmosis and the Twelve Gods! In any case, our neigh-
taste a little of the inter-cultural har- three ethnic groups – Jews, Ottomans bour, ‘cloud-gathering’ Zeus, forgets us
man-blend that built the city’s bour- and Greeks – harmoniously living in it not and shrouds us in a thick and heavy
geois lifestyle and folk myths. I re- for half a millennium; it echoes – albe- mist, corrosive humidity that pierc-
member my wonder when trying the it different in composition – of Smyr- es through to the very marrow of our
brownish eggs, boiled with onions ac- na-Izmir, to which it is truly similar in bones for long stretches of time.
cording to the century-old tradition- many aspects, more so than any other This ayaz-chill soaked the souls of
al Sephardic recipe, offered to me out- city. But its historical authenticity was – our emblematic poets: their tempera-
side Yahudi Hamam, in Louloudadika, alas! – attacked in a scandalous manner, ment fermented in mystery, joys and –
the flower market, across the road from and with devastating consequences, by above all else – the poisons of this deep-
Modiano city market, with its grace- sterile ethnocentricity, navel-gazing lo- ly-scarred city. Each of them left their
ful gables; this is where, as a prima- calism, deep state politics, ‘deep church’ mark and shaped its contemporary
ry school boy, I heard a bayat-seasoned bigotry and other bleak forces, not to myth: Pentzikis, also serving through
merchant speak in four languages – forget human indifference. The disap- his singular worship of Orthodox Chris-
French, English, Turkish and Ladino, pearance of Mevlevi Dervish Tekke, in tianity; Karelli, through her metaphysi-
besides our own Greek. Such bourgeois Ano Poli-the Old City, that used to be cal visions; Ioannou carrying a cross of
grandeur is long gone. Where are the the most beautiful Islamic monastery in his own and facing his private passion;
spirited birbanti-scoundrels who used the Balkans, and the demolition of sev- Aslanoglou, with his unnerving sensu-
to warble in the folk’s markets? What a eral of the splendid mansions of the old ality; Christianopoulos, along his folk
place Kapani was! Mixed patois, clev- city seafront are just two examples of pirlgrimage; Anagnostakis, true to the
er innuendos, crazy calembours-jokes, such sad cultural losses. northern star of his social struggles.
refugees’ proverbs, impromptu vers- Still, leaving aside all these negative as- At times, an intense spirit of resistance

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