For Part 1 of her documentation of “Greek Summer”, Ira Tassouli shares with us photographs shot during the summer of 2018 in Yerakini, a small village in Chalkidiki, Greece. Accompanying them are her memories and reflections on her photographic style and journey.
Copenhagen, July 20th 2020
I close my eyes and try to remember what it felt like to be in Yerakini in 2018. It’s been two years since that summer, and all I can think of is how surreal it is that it’s so long ago I was waking up drenched in sweat from the incontrollable heat only to hear the sound of birds chirping outside of my window accompanied by the noisy ceiling fan. I’m sure everyone has those moments they promise themselves they will never forget. Sometimes, as funny and slightly embarrassing as this is, I even close my eyes when I do that, almost as if I’m taking a picture of that place, that smell, that feeling with my brain. It usually doesn’t end up working, if I’m being completely honest. But I still continue doing it, as a celebration, a moment of gratitude for the bliss, the deep and profound happiness I am experiencing.
I did that a lot in Yerakini. Stood on the beach, feet deep in the wet sand, and I thanked the universe for extending that moment, second by second. That summer is so clear yet so blurry in my memory. I remember driving to the mini market of the village, smelling the seasalt and Nivea sunscreen in the air. I remember reading books on the balcony all day and I remember using those same books as supporting surfaces while painting my nails a cherry red color. I remember my screen lighting up in the middle of the night with text from my boyfriend at the time, and the mini heart attack I would get, worried I’d wake up my friend who was sleeping right next to me. I remember the brightness of the stars against the black canvas of the infinite sky, the pink sunsets that made me mumble Frank Oceans’ Pink Matter, and the calmness that defined those two weeks I spent there. Funnily enough, all these memories have a soundtrack too, an anthem, per se. “Ena Tango” by Charis Alexiou. I remember rolling down the window, letting my hand swerve out, sun blinding my eyes, while I sang the words on the top of my lungs.
It’s ironic in a way how colorful this summer is in my memory, yet how “colorless” the photographs that captured are. In contrast to the photos I take now, I think the images I shot that summer don’t really remind me of what that holiday felt like when I look at them. All the memories I have are better captured in the infinite sunsets on my camera roll than they are through the images below. Is that a bad thing? I’m not sure, but I don’t think so, to be honest. The images you will see below are in a sense the most visually intriguing moments I experienced and witnessed during my trip, but that does not make them the most significant or most memorable. As beautiful as I find them, they seem equally foreign to me. More distant, a little too poetic maybe. Regardless of that, I still do believe these photographs are some of the best I’ve taken. In those two weeks I shot two rolls, which is exactly 72 images, and not a single frame was wasted. Below, you will find a selection of my absolute favorites.
