Visiting the Museum of Contemporary Art in Athens.

 Being in Athens recently gave us the opportunity to visit the National Museum of Contemporary Art. This museum is housed in what has been a long-term landmark in central Athens. Previously the Fix Brewery site, the construction was originally built in the late 19^th century. Modernized from 1957-1961 by the architect Zenetis, it was considered pioneering work for its era. The Fix family developed their plant elsewhere and this building had fallen into disrepair by the late 1970s.                                 

Work on the museum began in 2000 and was completed in 2014. From February 2020 it has been fully operational, housing permanent and temporary exhibitions by Greek and international artists.

I loved the entrance, contrasting with the stark exterior, with its womb-like ambience encouraging you inside. 

                

  And as you go in, the proximity of archeological sites demands you consider the ancient with the modern, the very essence of Athenian antithesis.

 It was the building itself that stole the show for me. The vast escalators were the centre point producing a sense of dizzying depth, at one epitomizing progress and descent.

  Here the materials of glass and mirror afforded a lovely play on our reflected image.

                                                               

Again starkness. Here the exhibited workstation represented for me the anodyne, the impersonal nature of many workplaces. I was so delighted to see the – unrelated! - pop of colour contributed by the lemon-scented hand sanitizer!                                                              

There were many installations or exhibits which expressed their creator’s political stand and here are some that spoke to me.                                                         

 This tent published a memorial to the 418 Palestinian villages which suffered destruction at the hands of Israeli forces in 1948. For me it also represented the almost nomadic lifestyle forced on that people, obliged to move from their homeland to provide a better life for their families.

A very moving installation was one entitled The Red Line, showing delineations in specific areas, denoting political forces separating living communities.  One showed the Loyalist and Nationalist murals in Belfast - a complex, catastrophic soup that boiled for years and has threatened reheating as a result of Brexit measures.  Two others that had significance were: the Green Line or United Nations demilitarized Buffer Zone which cuts through Cyprus, separating it from the Turkish occupied areas of Kyrenia and Famagusta

And the other, pictured below, the wall of concrete slabs separating the Jewish settlements on the occupied West Bank with the arid Palestinian Authority controlled area.  Palestinian artists had attempted to alleviate the grim aspect of the wall with graffiti which for me represent youth, dreams, hope. 

 These last two held particular personal meaning for me as not only have I visited both, but  I have friends whose homesteads were appropriated by the occupying forces and thus they became displaced persons having to start from scratch to forge a new life in foreign lands.                                   

One of the topics was an exploration into,’ What Is Democracy?’  This was intriguing in that it was being posed in a place not far from The Lyceum, where Plato and Aristotle pondered just such concepts some 2,360 years ago. In fact, it is incredible to think that the original site of the Lyceum was uncovered only in 1996, during excavation to clear space for the possible site of the Museum of Contemporary Art. Isn’t that something? 

The creator had asked this question to young people world-wide and I wanted to spend much longer than time allowed here. However, what struck me was that many responses focused on fighting against established political regimes or systems. They seem to have been answering the question to ‘How is Democracy to be obtained in certain circumstances?’rather than simply discussing the semantics of the concept per se.                                

  

Below is one of my favourite shots: Z studying the installation Fix It, constructed from rusty industrial fittings of the old Fix brewery. A metal grid forms a fenced area throughout which buzzing bulbs switch on and off. With the activity in that electronic circuit it seems, if only to a tiny extent, that the spirit of Fix lives on.

                                   

And all too soon it was time for us to leave the capital city - not flying Aegean Airlines as we did to arrive, but cruising in our cool, new acquisition, the new lady in my husband’s life  – a beautiful Daimler/Chrysler Mercedes.  Her previous owner had not travelled far in her and had kept her in pristine condition.   She does not like things encroaching on what she deems her safe territory. Several taxi drivers and bikers incurred the wrath of her alarm bells ringing for coming too darned close.

 A memorable moment was, in the middle of dense, speeding and unpredictable Athenian traffic, hearing Z’s innocent enquiry, ‘I wonder what this button does?’. Hardly confidence-inspiring!

 Nevertheless we had a really comfortable trip home and after the long drive, we both felt as if we’d been reclining on a comfortable settee!                                       

 She is a smooth operator, one cool dame – I’ve dubbed her The Duchess.                                       

 We look forward to many exciting trips with her in future!