citinotes

High Society

“What unfolded here, a century ago, was unprecedented anywhere else. In Syros, Greece experienced a renaissance,” proclaimed Eleftherios Venizelos, the leader of the Greek State and a prominent political figure. His words resonated deeply. As the 20th century dawned, the Greek island of Syros experienced an economic supremacy so remarkable given its modest scale, evoking comparisons to previous eras when Venice wielded influence far beyond its diminutive size.

Syros’s fortunate state of peace during the Greek struggle for national independence throughout the 19th century, coupled with its advantageous geographic position in the heart of the Aegean Sea, transformed the island into the most coveted destination for hundreds of sailors, merchants and ship-owners. In less than 50 years, these enterprising newcomers established factories, a shipyard, a new port and other vital infrastructure, laying the foundation for Syros to evolve into the largest trade and industrial hub in the Eastern Mediterranean.

During a period when Athens’s streets were being paved with tar to accommodate the carriage of King Otto from Bavaria, the nation’s new ruler, Ermoupoli, the capital city of Syros, was laying marble ground for the construction of Neoclassical mansions designed by internationally renowned architects. The pinnacle of these constructions was the Town Hall, boasting grand dimensions and prestigious allure that seemed surreal compared to the fledgling standards of the newly established Greek state. These remarkable buildings bestowed upon Syros a polished, elegant appearance that would become its timeless and most distinctive trademark. Rita Boomi-Papa (1906–1984), a notable female Greek poet, vividly captures the astonishment of her mother upon witnessing for the first time the island’s dazzling amphitheatrical skyline.

Syros’s economic prosperity also translated into improved living standards. By 1850, the city boasted a population of twenty thousand residents—a record number at the time. A great number of inhabitants benefited from access to an educational system comprising no fewer than 18 schools and a burgeoning press industry with four local newspapers in production. Syros’s first high-school, renowned as Greece’s inaugural institution of its kind, nurtured pupils who would later distinguish themselves in literature—such as Manos Eleftheriou—politics—like Eleftherios Venizelos—or business, exemplified by Andreas Syggros (1830–1899), a prominent banking magnate and national benefactor.

Syggros fondly recalls accompanying his father to play cards at Syros’s private club—the first of its kind in the country. He recounts with pride the memories of sitting amidst the glamorous salons adorned with velvet sofas, the air tinged with the scent of newspapers and tobacco, while his father settled gambling debts offering pastries to his fellow players.

Public venues were meticulously crafted to serve as showcases for the affluent members of the burgeoning bourgeoisie, where they could flaunt their wealth and sophistication. Gérard de Nerval (1808–1855), a prominent literary figure of the French Romanticism era, vividly recounts an evening at the Apollon Opera House—a pioneering establishment nationwide—where patrons would discreetly extinguish their pipes as a gesture of respect for their English counterparts. Additionally, during their literary gatherings, these elites would convene at private homes or exclusive clubs to engage in discussions spanning politics, social issues, or history, as documented by A. Foufas in Theatis, a literary magazine of the 1930s.

Syros’s elite was cosmopolitan, well-traveled, skilled at importing exotic products—such as Viennese chocolate drinks—and embracing new customs, like ballroom dancing, which rapidly became a collective obsession. In Emmanuel Roidis’s (1836–1904) charming novel, “The Psychology of a Syriot Husband,” we gain insight into how the ladies’ meticulous preparations to dazzle the dancefloor consumed their time, often to the frustration of their husbands. Furthermore, Manos Eleftheriou (1938–1918), a poet and social commentator, vividly depicts the extravagant world of a carnival ball hosted at Konstantinos Tsiropinas’s mansion. Tsiropinas, an industrialist and owner of ships, a bank, and the island’s shipyard, also served as Mayor and member of the Greek parliament for Syros.

These captivating narratives by brilliant writers offer a glimpse into the glorious past of Ermoupoli—a legacy that still reverberates through the elegant marble streets and iconic monuments of this enchanting island, inviting modern travelers to explore its timeless allure.

‘Vaporia’ – literally meaning ‘boats’ – is an elegant district in Ermoupolis, the capital city of Syros, where shipowners had their elegant mansions built in the 19th century. The blue dome belongs to the Church of St. Nicholas, the patron saint of sailors.

Citinotes

"While Athenians were still without private clubs, the islanders of Syros had already established their own. They enjoyed a vibrant cultural scene complete with theaters, salons, social gatherings, balls, and literary evenings, which marked the inception of systematic lectures in Greece."

A. Foufas, 1931, in Manos Eleftheriou, Syros in literature, Metechmio, 2003.

chapter 1

A glittering city

In 1866, my mother Chrysso arrived in Syra. During that era, our city flourished with commercial and maritime prosperity, showcasing its advanced civilization and opulence. It boasted newly constructed streets, radiating from downtown and ascending like spokes to densely populated hills adorned with white steps. The city’s amphitheatrical layout captivated even the most seasoned travelers, who were awestruck by the grandeur of the island’s bustling port.

Mansions, statues, houses and trees grew in size, creating a spectacle of grandeur. The colossal Town Hall added to the city’s splendor, leaving my mother dazzled by its magnificence.

People leisurely occupied numerous chairs around small tables, while waiters, attired like nobles, swiftly maneuvered through the crowds, balancing trays laded with bottles, glasses, and delicate plates of sweets. The vast, pearly-white square, enveloped by towering date palms and flower boxes, featured a marble platform dedicated to musicians, adorned with sculptures of the nine muses. The colossal Town Hall added to the city’s splendor, leaving my mother dazzled by its magnificence.

Ρίτα Μπούμη-Παπά, Η Χρυσώ, Καρανάση, 1984
Rita Boomi-Papa, I Chrysso, Karanasi, 1984

The Town Hall in Syros is a monumental edifice, built in 1876 by the renowned Saxon architect Ernst Ziller, with instructions to create “a palace.” Today, it stands as a testament to the island’s bourgeois dominance in the 19th century, serving as its most illustrious showcase.

During the 19th century, travelers discovered Ermoupolis’s metropolitan appearance with great amazement, as evidenced by their enthusiastic notes. Photo credit: Yannis Vacondios @sky_world_amazed.

chapter 2

The Private Club

The first building served as a Club, situated above Bottaro’s pharmacy was owned by an Italian doctor of the same name. To my eyes, it appeared as a grandiose mansion. […]

The furniture of the Club, which I once deemed luxurious, consisted of painted wooden tables, wicker chairs and recliners imported from Marseille and polished —a stark contrast to the green or brown, poor-quality furnishings found in other cafés. The origin of the curtains and carpet remained unknown. Heating in the room was provided by fireplaces, which emitted abundant smoke from the pipes.

Subscribers paid an annual fee of 60 drachmas, or sfantzigkas, for access to a reading room stocked with three or four Greek newspapers, including “Tahypteros Fimi” (meaning Quickflying Rumor) and “Athena”. In 1840, the only foreign newspaper available was “Amaltheia of Smyrna”. In 1843, efforts were made to introduce the weekly edition of the “Semaphore de Marseille” to the reading room.

In addition to the reading room, Club members could enjoy the only casino in Greece, named “Sfairistirion” (meaning “Hall of Balls” referring to billiard balls). The primary entertainment included card games like the ancient “Kontsina” game.

“Préfa me Kapikia” was another card game where the loser, instead of paying money, bought coffees or pastries for the other three players. Playing cards with money was prohibited at the Club throughout the year, permitted only during balls. I found great pleasure in these games, often sitting next to my father, who played “Kontsina” and enjoying his sweet gains.

During Carnival, two or three dances were organized to raise funds for the Club and its younger members. These balls became the island’s premier events of the year, characterized by the opulence of the ladies’ attire and the grace of the youth. It was a breeding ground for fashion and the birthplace of new love affairs.

[…] For lighting, candles were added to the candlesticks hanging on the walls and placed in the center of the room, adorned with branches and leaves of laurel and myrtle. Refreshments were provided by the gentlemen at the refectory, whether they attended alone or accompanied by a lady. Consequently, less attractive ladies risked remaining thirsty for hours until their husband or another relative offered them, at the very least, some water.

Ανδρέας Συγγρός, Απομνημονεύματα, 1908
Andreas Syggros, Memoirs, 1908

During a period when the city of Athens exhibited noticeable gaps in social offerings, the islanders of Syros showcased remarkable strides in social progress. While Athenians were still without private clubs, the residents of Syros had already established their own. They enjoyed a vibrant cultural scene complete with theaters, salons, social gatherings, balls, and literary evenings, which marked the inception of systematic lectures in Greece.

The concept originated from the esteemed Club Hellas, whose members initiated literary evenings in late 1885. These events featured lectures on a variety of topics including social issues, politics, history, literature, and economics. Hellas, the oldest Club in Syros, boasting a 30-year legacy, counted among its members some of the most prominent citizens of local society. At a time when Athenians hesitated to venture beyond the confines of their homes, the residents of Syros actively participated in club activities.

The inaugural literary evening took place on December 26, 1885, focusing on the fall of Lefkada island under Venetian rule in 1683.

Lawyer Spyridon Matesis introduced the topic to a packed hall, comprising distinguished members of local society spanning the fields of literature, science, and commerce. Doctors, lawyers, judges, industrialists, ship owners, scholars, and journalists alike convened, creating a dynamic and diverse assembly.

[…] The audience remained enthralled by the initiative of club Hellas during the second evening as well. School principal Psilakis adeptly opened the debate on the “Mission of Greece towards the world,” a topic that the speaker handled with skill and finesse. […]

Numerous guests found themselves excluded from the venue, their frowning faces reflecting disappointment and frustration. Who could blame them? They were on the brink of missing out on an extraordinary pleasure: a music concert poised to conclude the debate like a delectable dessert at a feast. The islanders’ renowned admiration for music was proverbial, and thus, such deprivation stirred emotions in all who were affected.

A. Φούφας, 1931, Μάνος Ελευθερίου, Η Σύρος στη Λογοτεχνία, Μεταίχμιο, 2003.
A. Foufas, 1931 in Manos Eleftheriou, Syros in literature, Metechmio, 2003.

The elegant marble staircase surrounds the statue of Dimitris Vafiadakis, who served as Mayor of the island from 1870 to 1887 and again from 1895 to 1898.

At the turn of the 20th century, the island boasted no fewer than four local newspapers, among them the prominent ‘Patris’ (‘Homeland’) and ‘Chrimatistirion’ (‘Stock Market’).

Dimitris Vafiadakis (1804-1898) was a banker, shipowner, and industrialist originally from Chios island. During his tenure as Mayor of Syros, he oversaw the construction of the island’s magnificent Town Hall by the prominent architect Ernst Ziller. His statue at the entrance of the building was crafted by Lazaros Sochos (1857-1911).

The Town Hall’s cafeteria patio is enclosed by a stunning loggia.

chapter 3

Apollon Theater

I dined at the Ηotel of England […] before heading to the Casino, where the evening’s show was scheduled. […] It’s worth noting that locals refrained from smoking inside the Τheater to avoid disturbing the English visitors occupying the best box seats. […]

The play commenced with an introductory scene featuring Botsaris and his young confidant. Because of the fervent recitation and vocalizations, I struggled to grasp the verses’ meaning. Gradually, however, I began to understand that Marco Botsaris embodied a modern interpretation of Leonidas, leading a band of brave men in a reimagined version of the Spartans’ resistance. The audience enthusiastically applauded this Greek drama, which, following the conventions of classical theatre, concluded with the sound of rifle shots. […].

Gérard De Nerval, Voyage en Orient, Michel Lévy Frères, Libraires Editeurs, 1867

But dances and songs, particularly during holidays, were not exclusive privileges reserved for a select few. The entire community of Syra would set aside their daily worries and revel together. Music bands would tirelessly play into the night in the slums. In the summer houses of the wealthy, music was a constant presence, with piano melodies filling the air. […]

(During the carnival) members of the haute bourgeoisie would dress as heroes from the operas they had seen in Europe or at the Apollon Theater in Ermoupolis, where Italian theater troupes frequently performed […]

A dance hosted at Konstantinos Tsiropinas’s mansion during the February 1902 Carnival was vividly depicted in a local newspaper. The article describes the scene […]:

“The mansion shimmered with light, as bulbs of assorted shapes cast their glow across every corner and graced the center of the halls; electric chandeliers added to the almost wintry ambiance.

[…] Mr. Tsiropinas made a striking appearance, attired as an Englishman from François Auber’s opera Fra Diavolo […] while Mrs. Foustanou captivated as Columbine from Ruggero Leoncavallo’s I Pagliacci […]. The dinner was lavish, and the drinks even more so. Champagne flowed freely from the outset, accompanying the sumptuous feast […].

Following dinner, a spirited dance unfolded, with ribbon streamers swirling through the air. This lively display was likened to the Nereids dance of local folklore or the graceful movements of mythical nymphs. The festivities continued until the early hours of the morning […] with a parade of revelers donning costumes ranging from Englishmen to Siamese sisters, jockeys, harlequins, and various other whimsical characters.”

Μάνος Ελευθερίου, Μαύρα Μάτια: Μάρκος Βαμβακάρης και η Συριανή Κοινωνία, 1905-1920, Μεταίχμιο, 2013.
Manos Eleftheriou, Black eyes: Markos Vamvakaris and the Syriot society, 1905-1920, Metaichmio, 2013.

The dome of the Apollon Theater House features emblematic composers of classical music, such as Mozart and Rossini, opera composers like Verdi and Donizetti, and iconic writers such as Homer, Aeschylus, and Euripides.

Kostis Bastias (1901-1972) was a writer, journalist, publisher, and columnist born in Syros. He served as director of prominent theatrical venues, including the National Theater, the National Lyric Scene, and also directed the National Radio Institution.

Memorabilia showcased at the Apollon Theater Museum include billboards, play programs, and personal belongings of the actors.

The Apollon Theater House has been considered a miniature version of La Scala. Its architecture draws influence from other Italian theaters, including the restored Teatro di San Carlo in Naples (1816), the Academic Theater in Castellranco (1745), and the Teatro della Pergola in Florence (1755).

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chapter 4

The waltz of vanity

That year proved to be a time of extraordinary joy for the people of Syros, who, upon completing their year-end accounting, seemed to transform into “dance maniacs.” In just one month, eleven grand and smaller dance parties were organized.

For three consecutive days, Christina, my wife, dashed to the shops, and by the fourth day, our entire house had been transformed into a bustling sewing workshop. Every available surface was strewn with fabric scraps, linings, ribbons, bras, and shoes for fittings.

Finding a place to sit became a near-impossible task. Come evening, I often found myself waiting until nine or even later for a meal, which usually consisted of a simple salad or fried whitebaits. Our sole literate maid had been promoted to the rank of seamstress and consequently had no time left for cooking. […]

It felt as though I had lost my wife entirely. […] She was busier than any general on the eve of a crucial battle. Her days were a whirlwind of visits to the stores followed by council meetings with her girlfriends. She was either fuming at her dressmaker for failing to keep her promise or venting her frustration at her beloved hairdresser, Anastasis, for his chronic tardiness in keeping their appointments. […]

Despite my aversion to such elaborate preparations, I must admit that Christina’s adornment was truly stunning. She wore a long train gown crafted from a luxurious, dark-cherry silk, which draped elegantly around her figure. Adorning her head was an heirloom passed down from her mother: an archaic diadem adorned with rubies, their crimson flames perfectly complementing her lustrous raven hair. […]

The mayor’s house was indeed sizable, but even greater was his fear of overlooking any of his guests, whether a party leader, a pastry maker, a sailor, a tanner, or any other merchant. As gentlemen awaited the arrival of female guests at the entrance, they stood poised with notebooks in hand, eagerly ascending the ladder to extend dance invitations.

Upon our arrival, no fewer than fifteen gentlemen rushed towards Christina, who met their advances with admirable courage and readiness. […] She scarcely had a moment to spare for a dance with me, though the occasional whirlwind of her dance adventures did bring us together, if only for a fleeting moment or two. […]

Her aspirations were confined to impressing the women of Syros with the opulence of her attire and ensnaring a populous group of admirers to her side. Indeed, witnessing her rubbing her bare shoulders against the golden shoulder straps of the naval officer was a source of considerable anguish for me. […]; However, from another perspective, if she had been kinder to me, my affection for her would likely have been diminished. It is through skepticism, jealousy, and worry that one can maintain their passion intact.

Εμμανουήλ Ροΐδης, Ψυχολογία Συριανού Συζύγου, 1894
Emmanouil Roidis, Psychology of a Syriot Husband, 1894