American rock music writer and cultural critic, Greil Marcus, has fashioned a long life of devotion to American roots music, folk and roll and roll music by mining the terrain of a number of incendiary legacies, in particular, those of American musical artists, Bob Dylan and Elvis Presley.
Whether delving obsessively into the folklore and myth of Dylan’s 1967’s joint collaboration with “The Band”, “The Basement Tapes, or mythologically distilling the zeitgeist of Presley’s 1954 and 1955 recordings at Sam Phillips’ Sun Recording studios in Memphis in his 1975 volume “Mastery Train”, Greil Marcus has often defined, dissected and refined his prescient musical commentary onto the subtext, beauty and glory of an individual song, Dylan’s breakout from 1964, “Like A Rolling Stone”, a case in point.
Within the panoramic tableau of the expansive post – independence Greek musical tradition, a task like that intermittently undertaken by Greil Marcus will no doubt risk censure but, for the cultural trailblazer seeking to isolate the gold nuggets within the relatively recent expanse of Greek song, it’s worth the herculanean risk and endeavour.
“Synafiazmeni Kyriaki” (“Cloudy Sunday”) was written by Vasilis Tsitsanis was when he was young man, in his late twenties, at a time when the fledgling Greek union was under assault from the Nazi menace and horrors of the second twentieth century global conflict. The meaning and enduring appeal of this particular composition transcends the shores of Hellas, of Greece, and eighty or so years on it captures the hearts, souls and “psyxii” of Greeks and non – Greeks the world over, in the quantum thousands, and perhaps more.
Melbourne – born Greek Australian writer, Christos Tsiolkas, has written of the seminal and central place that this transcendent and transportive musical feat occupies within his own soul and it goes to the point of cliché, perhaps, when one hears the oft – expressed comment that the tune occupies a position as the definitive articulation of Greek musical expression and unification, perhaps even that of “national anthem” status.
For the archivists and collectors of this particular blazen moment in Greek music, original shellac vinyl pressings of Tsitsanis’ works exist, and, it is pleasing that such recordings can even be purchased at reasonable cost in cities such as Melbourne. Peter Stathopoulos, for one, a leading proprietor and champion of all good and independent music in Melbourne in his treasured and quaint suburban Melbourne establishment is one of many Greek Australians who has championed and provided tangible access to the world of Tsitsanis and so many enduring pioneers of the founders of the Greek musical form, in all its variants.
A particularly poignant moment in national Greek cultural life took place in 1983 at Olympic stadium in Athens when Greek troubadour, Georgios Dalaras, with the likes of Christos Nicholopoulos, and others providing unparalled musical accompaniment, played “Synafiazmeni Kyriaki” before and emotional and rapturous audience.
If the comments of Dalaras’ opening remarks were not enough to skewer one’s heart with an ice pick, the ensuing performance, with Nicholopoulos a particular standout on bouzouki, delivered the overwhelming verdict on the centrality and importance of this one particular composition within the entire canon of post independence Greek culture.
A song delivered, as if from heaven, a song that resonates enduringly and timelessly, that makes one weep, ache, smile, laugh and dance.
A song that appears to have been dropped from the heavens by the angels.
A song written by one man of quiet, of humility, of industry, Vasilis Tsitsanis.
