Philippos expresses the longing for eternal wisdom
Jean Couteau, Contributor, Bali
Bali shares more than a few features with ancient Greece.
Not only the Greek beauty of a vibrant culture and the presence of gods and ancestors whose plays are performed in front of village audiences, but also a mythology strikingly similar, descended from a very ancient common Indo-Aryan trunk: gods inhabit the mountains (Olympus in Greece, Meru in Bali), and have sometimes similar roles.
As if Bali were a sort of Greece that had refused to change.
But Greece did change. Unlike in Bali, Greek heroes revolted against their gods: Prometheus, Sisiphus, Oedipus, all rose against the fate that was theirs and cursed the haughty gods.
By doing so, they embodied the ambition of Man to be free and become the master of his own destiny through the ways of banishment, despair and eventually death.
Through this revolt, the ancient Greeks laid the ground for the latter's occurrence of modernity, of Man's conquest over himself and nature.
Considering such an outcome, it is interesting to see how and why a modern Greek artist, while proud of his heritage, can question the ultimate validity of Greek heroes' achievements and dream of going back to a world in which Man has not yet revolted and is longing to merge into the whirling oneness of the Cosmos.
How a Greek, in other words, dreams of becoming an Oriental sage.
The Greek I am talking about is the sculptor Philippos, who is presently holding an exhibition at the Four Seasons Hotel in Jimbaran, Bali, until Friday.
Philippos was born in Volos (Greece) near the ancient marble quarries of the same city. As if his fate had been determined this way, he soon picked up the skill of sculpting with this most noble of all materials even before he attended classes at the Phytagoras Art Institute in Thessaloniki, which was actually to master a whole range of other art techniques.
His next step was to travel, first to Spain and Britain, then to mythical sounding places known to be the last repositories of world mystical knowledge: Bali, India, Mexico, Siberia, Mongolia Cambodia and Egypt.
He has been living in Bali since the mid-1990s and resides in Sayan, in front of one of the most famous river landscapes on the island.
At first view, what strikes out in Philippos work is his technical eclecticism. His virtuosity is stupendous: Not only does he skillfully carve all sorts of stones and woods, but the techniques of jewelry and metalworking seem to hold no secrets for him.
Philippos' inspiration is no less eclectic than his technique.
Part of it is derived from the artist's Greek heritage: Some of his marble and sandstone sculptures of human characters, as well as his wooden carvings of angels and centaurs, conjure up an idea of balance that is reminiscent of the great tradition of ancient Greece, albeit in its pre-classical phase.
The most interesting part of his inspiration, however, is that of themes gathered in his travels across the globe. Here, Philippos is no longer the "Greek" artist discoursing about Man as his unique object, and about Man discovering for himself an unlimited destiny.
It is on the contrary Philippos the artist discovering his own limits and the limits of modern man's power: round or spiral stones studded in their center with human figurines, gems or esoteric symbols, most of Philippos' works are indeed an exploration of cosmic symbols through which the artist, far from affirming the uniqueness of Man's condition, views Man as bound to merge into the Oneness of Being.
The symbols chosen may be mandalas, sun faces, roses of the wind, men with outstretched arms and legs, cosmic eggs or spheres, eyes of ubiquitous knowledge, wombs, cosmic dancers, etc; all refer to a cosmic symbology painstakingly collected in the artist's long wanderings among the cultures of the world: Philippos' travels and works are all moments of a spiritual quest.
Philippos' treatment of this dual source of inspiration further brings new information about the artist's message. The anthropomorphy of his "Greek" inspired characters never really intends to achieve the naturalist perfection of the Platonian ideal -- which his magnificent workmanship would enable him to do.
The expression he gives to these characters, often looking upward in expectation or with their eyes cast downward in dejection, carry instead an angst-laden questioning of which the cosmic world of his other works is meant to suggest an answer.
And indeed Philippos' treatment of these cosmic themes is revealing: the symbols are unambiguous, neatly carved or embedded; the technique flawless; as if the artist's cosmos, unlike the chaotic one of ancient Greece, were paradoxically inhabited by the Platonian spirit of ideal order.
The message thus is unambiguous. To Philippos, Man is not only the hero conqueror of Chaos and creator of meaning the artist's ancestors dreamed him to be; Man is also a powerless and angst- ridden figure who should aim at achieving Ultimate Oneness.
Put it in other words, Man's only future is to turn himself into a universal sage.
This is indeed what is, increasingly often, happening. The more the "heroic" modern Man extends his control over nature, the more futile appears his endeavor, and the more he longs for the Oneness of Being.
Philippos is one of the carriers of this ultimate message of humility and wisdom. May his talent further bloom in this unending quest.