Elisabeth Rodopoulou returned from abroad to her village to practise a dying art: traditional Tsakonian weaving. Her thoughts often turn to her grandmother, who began weaving on a loom when she was just nine years old.
*By Dimitris Kyriazis
THE The Art of Weaving on a Standing Loom is inextricably linked to Tsakonia and is one of the most distinctive features of the cultural heritage of this very special region. Elisavet Rodopoulou, although she spent many years abroad in places offering ample potential and opportunities for professional development, realised that her connection to the family tradition of Tsakonian weaving was her most defining characteristic.
Somehow she decided to return to Tyros and take over the family business, the last traditional workshop. As she put it so characteristically: “I left another life behind and found myself facing challenges posed by a dying art and a place that puts you to the test”. She then recounts her journey:
“Tyros is a small, seaside village in Arcadia, in the heart of Tsakonia. It is situated between the blue waters of the Argolic Gulf and the green mountains of Parnon, in a landscape that enchants with its authenticity. The region is renowned for both its rare natural beauty and its deep-rooted traditions. Tsakonia is a unique region in Greece, a place with a strong cultural identity and a rich folklore heritage. Here, every corner has its own story, with deep roots and a living memory.
“To anyone thinking of living in the countryside, I would say to do so with an open heart, but also with a sense of realism. Country life requires patience, perseverance and a love for the place. If you have these three qualities, you can build a life full of beauty, simplicity and authenticity.”
The Tsakonian dialect is a living remnant of the ancient Doric dialect and is very different from the Greek we speak today. It is spoken mainly by the elderly and has been confined to the everyday conversations of a small circle of people. Over the years, remarkable efforts have been made to revive it. Thanks to various initiatives, it is taught to young people, ensuring that it remains alive and continues to have a place in our everyday lives. The Tsakonian dialect is not merely a collection of words; it is part of the identity of the local people, a means of connecting us with our tradition and history.
It was always so deeply ingrained in the lives of the locals that the children grew up hearing only that language at home from their parents and grandparents. It was the only language they knew. So, when they started school, they found it difficult to adapt to the modern Greek that the teachers taught them.
When I set off for abroad, I felt as though a new, unknown world was opening up before me. I lived in big cities, studied, worked and met people from different cultures and civilisations. It was a period of deep self-discovery and personal growth, full of challenges but also unique experiences that shaped me.
Wherever I am, my connection to our family tradition in the art of Tsakonian weaving has been and remains my most defining characteristic. The art of weaving, which was passed on to me almost naturally from a young age at home, has been a constant point of reference for me. At every stage of my life, even when I was far away, it reminded me of who I am and where I come from. And I think that this sense of balance is ultimately the most valuable thing I took away from this experience.
The decision to return was driven by circumstances and the need to redefine myself and my life. I was often concerned that our workshop is the only professional weaving workshop in the wider region of Tsakonia. The identity of a traditional art form is often misunderstood in Greece, as it is seen as bearing the burden of the past and of hardship, whilst in reality it conceals a perpetual, dynamic and ongoing evolution.
This was one of the reasons why, for a long time, I had been thinking about how I could combine my experiences abroad with the tradition of Tsakonian weaving and showcase it through more modern creations. So, I returned and went to Athens, to the “Askardamykti” school, to specialise in leather craftsmanship with the aim of designing a collection that combines two traditional techniques, creating functional objects with a more modern aesthetic. Through this combination, I sought to breathe new life into the art of Tsakonian weaving and bring it closer to today’s way of life, whilst preserving its authenticity.
This decision was a turning point. From that moment on, my life took a new direction, both in my creative work and in carrying on the tradition of Tsakonian weaving through teaching. In 2018, I took over our family workshop, “Tsakonika Ifanta”, in Tyros, and this brought about many changes for me.
I left behind another life and found myself facing challenges relating to a dying art form and a place that puts you to the test. My people reacted to it with mixed feelings; some with enthusiasm and others with concern. The transition was not easy, but it was worth it.
The decision to take over the family workshop had both positive and challenging aspects. Previously, I lived in a more structured environment, with a wider professional network and better opportunities. The city’s vibrancy and opportunities for professional development were clearly greater. However, my connection to my homeland and to the tradition of Tsakonian weaving was always something that interested and fascinated me.
Living in the countryside offers me, without a doubt, a better quality of life. The fresh air, the sense of community, the connection with nature and the tranquillity of the place give me the opportunity to enjoy life’s simple pleasures; they fill me with inspiration; they allow me to reconnect with my roots and to work more authentically. The fact that our art is inextricably linked to the history of Tsakonia reinforces the feeling that I am working on something unique. This was already reflected in a recent significant milestone for our work: the representation of our workshop at the EUIPO international conference on the protection regime for handmade products with geographical indications. This recognition demonstrates the value of the products made here and gives me the opportunity to contribute something meaningful to my home region. It also reinforces my belief that there is hope and opportunity for anyone to pursue their art professionally in their own region, provided they have vision and perseverance.
On the other hand, the limited opportunities and choices, especially for young people, are a reality that we cannot ignore. Social isolation is perhaps one of the most difficult aspects. Having come from the vibrancy and constant interaction of city life, I found myself in a place with less stimulation, more limited daily contact with people who share my professional interests, and without the opportunities for chance encounters or creative collaborations. At the same time, there is always the financial insecurity that comes with running a small local business. Social circles are limited, opportunities often depend on seasonal visitors, and keeping such a venture afloat requires a daily struggle and a constant reminder of why you started in the first place. Nevertheless, I feel that this decision has brought me closer to what truly matters to me and has given me hope that something small can have a big impact when done with love and consistency.
Yes, without a doubt, I feel vindicated by my decision to return. As a third-generation weaver, I feel vindicated by my involvement in weaving in my own community. Every day I feel blessed because I am involved in something I truly love, something that is valuable both to me and to my region.
What I miss is direct access to cultural events or certain services. I make up for this by travelling and organising cultural activities here, with the aim of bringing creative inspiration and new perspectives to our everyday lives.
The rich natural beauty of Tyros is no secret; it lies spread out before everyone’s eyes. But what I would also like to get to know better is the unseen world that lies beneath the surface of the sea: an underwater treasure trove full of mystery. It is one of Tyros’s most unexplored secrets, waiting to be revealed once the diving park is completed.
When I think of a special person from Tyros, my thoughts immediately turn to my grandmother Angeliki Psarrologos, the much-loved “Ko”, as everyone called her. Born in Tyros, she began weaving at the age of nine, learning the craft that would be a constant companion throughout her life. Her loom was set up in a café, a popular meeting place for passers-by. People would stop not only to drink coffee but also to watch her weave with her skilful hands and to listen to her tell stories from the old days about the people and customs of Tsakonia. She was so well known for her stories that many would stop by just to listen to her. At the same time, she did not keep her knowledge of weaving to herself. She taught the art to many students. My grandmother was more than just a weaver or a teacher. She was a living bridge between the old and the new Tyros. And of course, her coffee had a reputation all of its own: strong, aromatic and full of care, just like she was.
I would like there to be more opportunities for young people to stay and build their future here, to help develop the community through innovative ideas, without having to leave in search of a future. It would be great to create an environment that encourages them to invest in the region, supporting the development of their talents, creating new career opportunities and strengthening the local economy.
To anyone thinking of living in the countryside, I would say to do so with an open heart, but also with a sense of realism. Country life requires patience, perseverance and a love for the place. If you have these three qualities, you can build a life full of beauty, simplicity and authenticity.
Source: lifo.gr