Ancient Epidavros (Archea, Palea, Epidaurus) Amidst the blue of the Saronic Gulf, well protected on its own smaller gulf of Epidavros, with the scent from the valley's orange blossoms meeting the sea breeze in its picturesque and friendly port, with pine trees descending its slopes to offer their shade to its beautiful beaches, Ancient Epidavros, traditional yet modern, both tranquil and cosmopolitan, is always ready to welcome travellers whatever the season. Midway along the east coast of the Argolid district, easy to reach by road via the Corinth Canal or by sea aboard a Flying Dolphin from Piraeus, with its houses spread out amphitheatrically from the sea inland, the little town is built on the site of the ancient city-state of Epidavros. The local church, St. Nicholas, is built on the ruins of the Temple of Hera and, nearby is the Sanctuary of Asklepios the Ancient Theatre that attracts thousands of visitors every day. Quiet pleasant people, occupied in fishing, tending orange groves and tourism, a mild climate, beautiful surroundings and a sound infrastructure provide the framework for what today's tourist wants: a pleasant stay, recreation by the sea yet close to greenery, opportunities for all kinds of entertainment and a chance to see the many sights in the area. The origins of Epidavros are lost in the mists of time Its sheltered location and natural surroundings, the beauty of the landscape and fertility of the soil, attracted not only men but also gods. It was here that Asklepios' most splendid sanctuary was situated. Here yet another important nucleus of ancient Greek civilization was created. Its first inhabitants were the Carians. Later came the Dorians. The city took part in the Trojan War; it fought against the Persians at Plataea and Salamis and found itself on the side of the Spartans in the Peloponnesian War. Good sailors and merchants, the people of Epidavros founded colonies and raised their town to a high level. Their civilization came to light during excavations on the peninsula that bisects the Bay of Epidavros, the "island" as the locals call it today. There we can find remains from the Acropolis with Roman walls, ruins of a palace and houses, columns from the Doric temple and nearby, Mycenaean tombs, while under the sea, not very deep, lies a section of the ancient city. Its jewel however is to be found on the West Side of the peninsula. The ancient theatre. The "little" one, as it has been dubbed, to distinguish it from the "big" one in the Sanctuary of Asklepios. Built in the 4th century BC, it was dedicated to Dionysos, but for centuries remained buried under six metres of earth. In 1971, archaeologists began their digs. And today, elegant with its stone seats, it not only reaffirms the achievements of ancient civilization it also plays host to marvelous concerts.
ANCIENT EPIDAVROS A BRIEF HISTORY.
The small plain of Epidauros, centre of the Epidauros municipality, is one of the most picturesque places in the Argolid and is identified with the Ancient City of Epidauros.
The scenery around the city has remained quite unspoilt throughout the centuries and, as the visitors face the wooded areas, they cannot help wondering if time has stood still here, in the age that Homer describes in his writings.
Before the time of Christ, Epidauros was a glittering religious centre. The principal and epicentre of this religion was the worship of Asklepios, but we can also find evidence of the religious nature of the people inside the city of Ancient Epidauros. So we find sacred places dedicated to gods such as Apollo (on the ‘Island’), Hera (at the ‘Cultural Centre’), Artemis (at the top of the hill in the village) and Dimitra (at ‘St Marina’).
Ancient Epidauros was one of the most important among the cities that were situated in the same strategic position, and was already prospering in the early years of ancient Greece. Surrounded by mountains and hills with quite difficult communication routes, Epidauros found an easy way out through the Saronic Sea, which lies to its east and northeast.
Being the most important port of the Peloponnese in the Saronic Gulf, as well as having a strategic position between Korinth, Aegina, Piraeus, Trizina, Nauplion and Argos, Epidauros has always preserved a double existence; on the land and on the sea. Its residents were farmers and sailors but at the same time they had increasing responsibilities regarding the function, maintenance and promotion of the two Epidauros sanctuaries, which were well known throughout Greece, i.e. the sanctuary of Apollo Maleatas and the sanctuary of Asklepios. Among the duties of these people were the welcoming of the pilgrims, patients and their escorts, the building and maintenance of the sanctuaries and the necessary assistance they had to provide for the application of medicine by the ‘Asklepiades’.
Historically the destiny of Epidauros was common with that of other coastal cities of the northeastern Peloponnese. Special bonds connected Epidauros with Aegina and Korinth. Epidauros was a significant naval force and participated in the Persian wars, providing eight ships in the Battle of Salamis and eight hundred soldiers at Platea. Its friendly relations with Aegina and the alliance often offered to Sparta repeatedly placed it in conflict with the Athenians.
Within the city of Epidauros, Pausanias mentions that there were: - the temple of Asklepios with marble statues of the god and his wife Ipionis, temples to Diana and Dionysus, a sanctuary of Aphrodite and the sanctuary of Hera on the peninsula near the port. None of the above has been traced, as there have not been any archaeological excavations of significance at the site of the Acropolis.
In the small valley of the area of Epidauros, where the temple of Asklepios was founded, there stands the ‘great’ theatre, built, according to Pausanias, by the Argeian architect Polyklitus the Younger. Polyklitus adorned the area with other important buildings such as the temple of Asklepios with its gold and ivory statue, the Tholos and the Stadium. The theatre plays a significant and prominent role in the area, since it is the most famous and best preserved in the whole world, unique for its acoustics.
Long before that, however, the city of Epidauros needed a theatre of its own, particularly for its religious as well as public needs. On the west side of the peninsula which the local people call the ‘island’, and where, from above, the acropolis dominated the city among the buildings of the ancient market place, appears the little theatre of the ancient city ‘like a shell placed on the wooded slope’ as it has been successfully described. With a view towards the blue sea it contrasts with the ‘great’ theatre at the sanctuary of Asklepios.
Mrs Evangelia Deilaki, the chief archaeologist of the excavations, calls it ‘Laloun’, which means ‘the one who speaks’, which is a vivid description, as almost all of the seats bear inscriptions which prove that officers of the ancient city of Epidauros (notables, officials, etc), offered them as dedication probably to the god Dionysus. The original form of the theatre dates back to the 4th century BC (about 350-330BC).
And while the ‘great’ theatre was situated at the sanctuary of the god Asklepios, in this one the people worshipped the other god, Dionysus, as a protector and preserver of the many vineyards grown in the plain of Epidauros – let us not forget that Homer called Epidauros ‘vine clad’. Also there was a temple to Dionysus on the hill of the ancient Acropolis. Apart from the religious festivities, however, there were some other public ones in the city, which had taken place for at least eight centuries. It is also possible that this theatre welcomed performances of comedy and/or tragedy.
Today we can see only the ‘kilon’ and the ‘orchestra’. Fortunately, after many centuries of silence, the theatre has once more acquired spirit and voice through time, because, since 1995, it has extended hospitality to a series of musical shows and performances known as ‘Musical July in Ancient Epidauros’. The reviving of this archaeological site in such a way, we believe, offers a great service to our area and to culture in general.
Parts of the ancient walls that surrounded the city are preserved in Epidauros today and the visitor can observe some of the buildings that have sunk in the sea. Ancient Epidauros is a city full of legends and history since antiquity has left its mark indelibly on it. The city of Ancient Epidauros today attracts the interest of people who look forward to meeting the place where Greeks chose to show to advantage their art, spirit and civilization.
Ancient Greek Theatre
It is a warm summer evening in Greece. You take your place in the great open-air theatre of Epidauros. Seated on ancient stone set in the hillside you watch the seats around you gradually fill. An air of expectancy grows as the sun slowly sinks. The stars glimmer. The lights go down and in the darkness there is a palpable silence. From somewhere comes an eerie, rhythmic beat of music. When a soft spotlight picks out the shadowy masked members of the chorus moving in a slow ritual dance around the circular space or orchestra below you, an old buried gene raises the hairs on the back of your neck. Why?
The stone you are sitting on was quarried out of a mountainside near the city of Argos some 2,300 years ago. The author of the play you are about to hear was probably born a century before that. But those dim dancing figures are evocative of something even more ancient; the mystical cult of the god Dionysus. It is from there that the theatre, the dance, the drama, the tragedy to be played out before you has its roots.
Our little theatre in Epidauros is even more ancient than its more famous relation. Do ghosts of the past dance here, in honour of the god, on warm summer evenings?
The Cult of Dionysus
The cult of the god reached had Greece by sea from Thrace by the 7th century BC. Many of the rites at his festivals were shrouded in mystery, as were the secret Orphic rituals and the festivals of the goddess Demeter in Eleusis. The main place of his worship was at Eleutherai, a city about 50 kilometres north west of Athens, situated on the road between Eleusis and Thebes. The remains of an ancient temple of Dionysus are still to be seen near the ruins of the city
Dionysus, according to Greek myth, was the child of the god Zeus and a mortal woman, Semele. Semele, so the legend tells us, was the daughter of Cadmus, king of Thebes. Zeus was filled with desire for the beautiful princess and visited her often in her father’s palace and the girl became pregnant. Hera, the jealous wife of Zeus, disguised herself as Semele’s nurse and instilled in her a wish to see the god in all his divine glory. When her wish was granted the sight was too much for Semele. The brilliant glow surrounding the god engulfed her in flames. Zeus snatched the unborn child from her womb before it too burned to death. As it was immature, he enclosed it in his thigh and gave birth to it when the time was ripe. So Dionysus was born twice and the double birth earned him the title ‘Dithyrambos’.
After this second birth of the god from the thigh of Zeus he was put in the care of nymphs on Mount Nysa in Thrace. Zeus disguised the child as a young goat to keep him hidden from the jealous Hera. The goat/child was brought up in a cave and resumed his mortal shape when he became a man. Hera persecuted him until she drove him mad, when he left Thrace to roam the world. At some time he was cured of his madness and became divine. He showed mortals how to cultivate grapevines and make wine. He was good and gentle to those who venerated him, but he brought madness and desolation upon those who scorned him or the lascivious observances of his cult.
During her pregnancy Semele was seized by an uncontrollable desire to dance. Whenever she heard the flute she danced and the child in her womb danced also. Dionysus or Bacchus was the god of vegetation, wine and ecstasy. The vegetation in the form of the vine produced the wine. Drinking the wine resulted in a mad ecstasy, which found its expression in music and dance.
Dionysus was a god worshipped by country people. He was believed, by the simple peasants who worshipped him, to die each winter and be born again in the spring. So to his disciples he represented new life, resurrection. His female followers were known as Maenads or sometimes Bacchantes. They left their homes to live in the wilds, following the god with rapturous energy, wearing the skins of animals and were believed to have mystical powers. His male followers dressed in goatskins and were known as Satyrs. Symbols of fertility, they inhabited the woods and unploughed fields. At celebrations of the god’s feast they drank, became inebriated and engaged in wild dancing.
Not much is known about the ancient ceremonies in honour of Dionysus. Probably some of his male followers, wearing garlands of vine leaves in their hair, danced in a circle singing the dithyramb , a song relating the birth and sufferings of the god. This method of expressing religious fervour by the singing and dancing of a chorus was an old one. Poetry was an ancient art in Greece and the dithyrambs were probably sung in verse from early on. The songs would have been simple but grew more intricate as time went by.
What is known is that, circa 550 BC, Peisistratus, ruler of Athens, brought about great improvements to that city. He loved culture and encouraged the development of art, pottery, sculpture and architecture. Athens at that time was a city-state, which is a small town surrounded by villages and farms. Peisistratus wished to unite the populations of the town and the countryside. So he brought the peasant cult of the god Dionysus to the city of Athens. The statue of the god was brought from Eleutherai and placed in a shrine beneath the south eastern slope of the Acropolis. (On the Acropolis, in those days, were sanctuaries dedicated to Athena and Poseidon. It was the central place of worship in the area.) There, each spring, in the place where the god’s statue was lodged, the eight-day festival called the Great Dionysia was held. At some festivals the god was carried in procession in a ship on wheels. On a wooden column hung a wool robe topped by a great mask. This represented Dionysus and wine was mixed and offered to the mask before being drunk by the celebrants.
Masks have been used and worn since Paleolithic times. Masks disguised the wearer, proclaiming a different identity. They were worn at ceremonies and the wearer was often believed to be possessed by the spirit of the animal, person or god depicted by the mask. The masks which represented Dionysus, though, were far too large to be worn by anyone and were heavy, made of olive wood or marble. Through the mask the god manifested himself.
The orgiastic dancing and the singing of the dithyramb, which followed the drinking of wine, slowly developed into something more formal at the Great Dionysia in Athens. The participants of the chorus were probably brought in from Eleutheria for the celebration of the festival of the Dionysus. Poets vied to write the verses sung by the chorus which told of the birth and life of the god. The steps of the dance conformed to a pattern established by a leader. Eventually the chorus performed in a circular area or orchestra surrounded by an audience seated on wooden benches arranged in a semicircle. At the Great Dionysia the members of the chorus wore goat skins and goat masks; disguised as satyrs, followers of the god. The goat masks, tragos, gave the name of tragedy to the performance. The chorus danced and sang words, which were mimed by an actor on a raised platform.
Tradition has it that one day in the mid 6th century BC a certain actor, Thespis, departed from the normal and engaged in a conversation with the leader of the chorus. The art of drama was born. Thespis also introduced the wearing of masks for the actors, so he was able to depict several characters during the course of the ritual. He changed his mask in a small tent or skene set to one side of the orchestra. (In time the masks worn by actors, in the plays that developed, were large, with exaggerated expressions and the wide mouth contained a brass megaphone, which helped project the voice to the large audience.)
So the first Greek dramatic productions (the word comes from a Greek word meaning to act or do) were performed in honour of Dionysus around his altars at his festivals - the Great Dionysia in Athens in the spring and the Rural Dionysia in the winter. All performances were free to slaves and free men alike, supported by the state because they were considered to be religious functions and the audience could number 20,000. If the spectators took a dislike to either the actors or the play, they would pelt the cast with figs and goat’s cheese.
(This article is an extract from my research for a possible book on theatre and it’s origins - Maureen Carter.)
Octopus Fishing in Ancient Epidavros
George Tsalafos stares intently through an 18 inch metal tube with a 12 inch diameter glass bottom, watching for signs of movement. A long lead tied to our boat pulls a frozen fish wired into a tight cage. There is activity in the rocks below: an octopus eases slowly toward our bait. George signals to steady the boat; I drop the oars; the boat's movement slows. Holding the glass and metal tube with one hand, a six foot long, 4-tined spear in the other, George marks his prey.
The octopus has wrapped itself around the baitfish and is being pulled slowly along by the natural movement of our boat. Taking careful aim, George waits. His patience pays off; with a quick thrust, the spear slides through the water and hits the target. Seconds later, he has the octopus in hand and slips his knife between the eyes. He places it into a recycled plastic olive container with holes drilled through.
Within half an hour, using this method of relaxed watchfulness and expert hunting skills, we have five octopus, a number George deems sufficient.
On this mid-August afternoon the water is calm, the air sultry. Despite hats and sunscreen, the sun broils our skin. The blue my Grandmother tried so hard to describe colors the water. And everywhere on the horizon, as if the Gods scattered them, are rock outcroppings, fingers of land, and inhabited islands.
While he brings in the boat to the beachfront in this sheltered cove, we find several fist-sized rocks and place them on the seawall for George. This takes just moments; rocks line the shore.
George turns all the octopus inside out, cleans them, then lifts them high in the air, repeatedly throwing and pounding them against the seawall several times. He puts all the octopus and rocks we gathered into the plastic container, closes the lid tightly and begins a ten-minute process of rolling the jar, the octopus moving back and forth between the pounding rocks to complete tenderization.
In a final step, he leaves them hanging in the hot sun before broiling them for dinner.
We hunted for octopus on each of the three days I spent in a beach house tucked into orange and lemon groves in Ancient (Palea) Epidavros on the Peloponesse, Greece, home of the famed Epidavros Theater. George Tsalafos, my host, lives in New York City in the winter and is the owner of several parking garages there. Greece is his homeland, this waterfront home his for the last twenty years. Nana Loiselle, half-owner of Telly's Taverna in Astoria, New York, Irene Lista, also of New York, and I were his guests.
To get here we drove through the village and down a dirt road, passing orange and lemon groves lining the roadway. We passed the entrance to the property twice; there are no signs or mailboxes. Irini recognized an ancient stone structure at the side of the road. We parked and found a path leading behind the old dwelling, walked more than three hundred yards through mandarin and lemon groves until we reached an opening in the trees. To the left was George's house, a five room oasis expanded by a covered patio rimmed with geraniums and overgrown with grapes. Night-blooming jasmine and trees full of ripening fruits lining a long path to the sea.
The first thing Nana did was head into a small grove of trees less than ten feet from the house; within minutes she was back, her dress pulled up to form a container. Figs!
We pulled back thin green skin to expose a sweet center the consistency of jam, full of tiny seeds. These fresh tree-ripened figs taste unlike any I have eaten before: sweeter and livelier. Is it the sunshine? The organic farming? My love affair with Greece? We eat our fill under the grape arbor, demolishing the entire mound, drinking chilled spring water.
From the house we walk through pear, apple and plum trees down a long marble tiled path to the beach where George keeps his boat. By the waterfront there is a round marble table under another grape arbor, and plenty of seating on the breakfront.
We spend long lazy hours by the water: meal time, siesta and play time in sunshine or under moonlight. White grapes heavy with juice hang above our heads.
The water is warm, soothing, buoyant with salt. It is effortless to float on the surface of the water in the sunshine, not swimming, lazily hanging out. The sun is warm and comforting, the air full of voices and laughter.
There is always an ever-changing group of us, swimming, boating, laughting and talking, eating, playing Greek music on the radio or on tape, dancing whenever we're moved. Relatives, friends drop by bringing homemade wine, bread, and fresh-picked vegetables.
From the fruits of the trees to the fruits of the sea this area bursts with life and growth: Petalithas (limpets) clinging to rocks, sea urchins, crabs, baby fish one or two inches long, all manner of larger fish, are visible from shore and as we swim. We are warned to wear beach shoes; sea urchins lurk near shore. Long black prickly spines poke through the pebbles and rocks, reminding us.
During the second afternoon, Nana smiles as my eyes widen: she has picked up a sea urchin with her bare hands! Telling me not to worry, the secret is in how you hold it, she sends me to pick a ripe lemon from the grove beside the water. Then she pries petalithas from the rocks with a knife and plucks more urchins from the deeper water, cleans them and hands them to me, squeezing lemon on top; have I ever eaten seafood this fresh? It has a thousand taste sensations, each competing with the other on every surface of my tongue. I realize why Greeks talk so much about food; why dinner conversations are as much about the food being eaten as about politics and life. There is a lot of enjoyment and much to talk about when food is so fresh that nature's subtle complexities emerge.
Sounds drift easily through the orange groves. After eleven PM, I hear Greek music in the distance. I discover that at the head of the road, within a ten or fifteen minute walk in either direction are two modern discotheques.
My last night I walk from the beach house up a scented path to a stunning whitewashed building in the middle of an orange grove. The lobby leads to a discotheque with a covered bar and a dance floor open to the night sky. It has a changing light show dictated by nature: a big orange moon and thousands of stars traveled over the dance floor the night I was there.
Combining nature and architecture with a reverence for the ancient, there is a hint of classical form and shape. Somehow layered on to the stark modernity of both the building and music there is a sense of the texture and depth antiquity lays.
It seldom rains here in the summer; at least not enough to stop the dancing! There is both Greek folk dancing, mostly in the style of the area, and ultra modern Greek, European and American dance.
My three days spent here by the water in Epidavros, with George's generous hospitality, have been almost meditative; a good way for my body to complete the ten hour time shift caused by my trip from Seattle to Greece, and to downshift from the faster Athenian pace.
Besides the octopus, the homemade wine and bread, the home-cured olives, our last meal before returning to Athens includes two platters of fish we have caught: one fried, one charcoal broiled, and a huge container of wild greens Nana gathered under the lemon trees.
The aromas, the Greek words and music that ride in the air all plug into the childhood world that sits just under my skin, and I begin to understand my immigrant Grandparents more completely.
The majority of the food I have eaten over the last few days was something we gathered, hunted, fished for, picked from trees, plucked from the sea, enjoyed from the hands of people who made or grew it. There was wine from a neighbor, tomatoes from George's mother, bread and olives from friends.
I always heard love in their voices for this other place, this land where they were born, for the eloquence of the foods, mineral rich and in season, for the taste of the water and the color of the sea.
I thought I understood their closeness to the earth and elements, for they brought that with them by growing herbs, fruits and vegetables for health and life, and flowers and nourishing friends for their souls.
But I see there is so much more here, in this land of sunshine. Now, most of all, I understand the longing in their voices.
Eleni Vainas
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