This could be a continuation of my stories about Tinos. But something happened that surpassed the destination itself. Lately, I often write about houses and spaces that have a mission, and about those who live in them today and carry that mission forward. On Tinos, in the village of Triantaros high in the hills, there is an artistic nest created by Pauline and her boyfriend Max.
They met in Berlin. When they came to Tinos during the pandemic, the place where he grew up, Pauline says she got to know him better. “He has the sea and Tinos in his eyes.”
That’s how our conversation begins, one windy Sunday morning, in a village where I saw no one but a few cats. Silence has taken over, while the wind brings life and additional tones to our talk.
To understand the individual stories of the island, one must first get to know, and feel, how this place breathes. The entire island is carved into stone walls, with horizontal and diagonal ancient paths. The walls outline routes that have connected fields and villages for centuries. Many villages on this island are so deeply hidden in valleys that they were barely discernible. Today, when all houses are white, these villages glimmer behind the hills. The small blue dots you see from a distance are scattered chapels.
Somewhere out there, in this magical realm between earth and heaven, Pano – The Artist house was born.
The beginning of a new cycle
Pauline and I sit on the terrace overlooking Andros. Everywhere is dazzling white and blue, so much that eyes need to adjust. Pauline has a very pleasant, melodic voice, and before she told me she sings in the local village choir, I thought I’d love to hear her sing.
“The longer you’re here, the bigger the island seems. You slowly start to notice small details, and connect with them.” She complemented this story with sailing. “The more you sail, the bigger the sea becomes.”
She and Max decided to buy an old family house that was completely devastated. They made a detailed plan of how they wanted to implement all the important elements of Cycladic architecture, but also create new spaces for living and creating from them.
They recognized the potential of this house and its history. Reviving the old family home and the place where it all began seemed like a natural continuation. They embarked on a new mission: to fill this house with life and art. Art has shaped their families, so they opened their home to new voices of art.
Alice in Wonderland
The rooms reminded me of the story of Alice in Wonderland, where she shrinks and grows depending on the magical space she needs to enter. Pauline led me through the house like through labyrinths: each room has its own story, an energy of creation. The bedroom used to be a stable and a place where wine was produced. There is also a special part of the house designed to be a studio or laboratory for new inventions.
Love for simplicity, but also the need for functionality, merged with the century-old history that inspired their reconstruction and design of the house.
In the house, the experiences of everyday rituals are celebrated, such as making coffee, lighting candles, singing, listening to opera. The house has a quiet manifesto: to resist the acceleration of modern life.
Winter Art in Residence program
During winter, they organize an Art in Residence program. Artists spend time here getting to know the living culture and customs of the village, finding inspiration for their works, paintings, sculptures, or photographs. Their works remain in the house, which becomes a gallery, so that guests who rent this space in summer get not only a living space but a whole world in which they can easily imagine life as in a novel. Which they can now also write here. Nature itself supports them in this.
Sometimes they organize an “Open house” event, where everyone can come, get to know the house and their creative creators, view the exhibition, play something, or cook. Then Pauline usually sings, and a friend plays the piano.
Do you believe that such a space and such people exist? I want to check if I have imagined all this. Maybe at the end of summer I’ll go to Pauline’s again, this time to see how it sounds when, amid thunder and strikes from the sky, some aria from an old gramophone plays.
Written by Nataša Nikodijević Savin @myjourney
Photos by @myjourney.rs
Location https://my.pano-tinos.com/
