On January 18, '84, Vasilis Tsitsanis died. What always intrigued me when I saw Tsitsanis, beyond his incredible music and songs that dominated the musical firmament of Greek folk song,
On January 18, '84,
Vasilis Tsitsanis died.
What always intrigued me when I saw Tsitsanis, beyond his incredible music and songs that dominated the musical firmament of Greek folk song,
was his somewhat unfocused gaze when he played music and even when he sang.
He seemed to coexist simultaneously in two worlds:
in a world of what was happening around him at that moment and of which he was also a member, and in another distant, mysterious and somewhat inexplicable world where his spirit was wandering at that moment.
I used to say and still say today that the mysterious and transcendental that you felt that Tsitsanis carried in his soul and in his mind is what makes him stand out from the other great composers and musicians of our folk song.
For all the others, one could say that they were 100% focused and dedicated to what they were doing at the moment this was happening.
But Tsitsanis was both where everything was happening and at the same time he was somewhere else.
In fact, some of his songs that managed to escape from conventional rhythmic or melodic forms are what characterize him and give him that uniqueness that made him stand out.
A typical example is "Akrogialies Deilina".
Also, seeing the way he played the bouzouki, it was clear that he was not interested in technical perfection but rather in expressive aesthetics. He went beyond the elements that highlight technique for the sake of elements of musicality and simplicity, while at the same time bringing new elements of expression and playing the instrument.
Perhaps he lacked the musical and melodic complexities that were well-developed for centuries by the musicians of Asia Minor who came to Greece after '22 and by whom he was certainly influenced.
However, he had his own unique elements, such as the chords, the variations and other technically important details that highlighted the bouzouki in another direction beyond the bouzouki of the Piraeus school played by his well-known and renowned colleagues.
But his other great songs, which moved in classical forms of melody and rhythm, have themes, lyrics and meanings that seem like a continuation of a path whose roots lie in our folk music tradition and in folk poetic language.
The Outcast, the Lady, the Foreign Hands, the Ungrateful and the Synefiasmeni Kyriaki confirm the above.
They contained an aesthetic and a perception that went beyond the spaces of urban song and expanded and included the entire Greek soul from the mountains to the ports.
In contrast to most composers of folk and rembetiko songs whose songs and music had a more port-oriented character and their meaning and subject matter were more limited to the events of life around a specific urban and especially port environment, where ephemeral
relationships, delinquency and the so-called magic with its good and bad sides dominated.
Tsitsanis was therefore the bridge that managed to unite two musical worlds that came from different directions:
The world of the Greeks of Asia Minor who came to Greece as immigrants and the world of the Greeks who were already living in Greece at that time and who welcomed them not with the best intentions at first.
He managed to unify the music of these two worlds and through this unification to express the souls of both the Asia Minor and the Greek of that time in a common component that led to the depths of the soul.
So in my opinion he is rightly considered the father of our so-called folk song which flourished in the 40s, 50s and 60s to later take another path, of course with the guidance of the big record companies which, on the altar of profit, created famous singers and led them to the dance floors of big entertainment,
where it lost its meaning and character and declined.
The work of Vasilis Tsitsanis a cultural monument.
G. K
January 18, 2025