Before directly delving into Sakellaraki’s project, we first ought to briefly observe the roots of the mourning tradition in Greece. Both the source material and archaeological evidence presents clearly that the tradition goes back to the early Protogeometric period (11th BCE) of the Iron Age and possibly beyond. Of course, ancient Greeks were not the only ones who had such customs; various civilizations that flourished in Asia Minor, Mesopotamia, and many others located in different regions had similar practices as well. Yet, our focus will only be set on ancient Greece for the purpose of this article.
Ancient Greek funerary rites were composed of three main sequential phases; prothesis, ekphora, and burial. Mourning and lamentation were among the most essential elements of the prothesis. One who prepares to cross Styx would be laid out on a kline (funeral bier) and women would clean, anoint, and often decorate his/her body with flowers. Attendants and the household would then begin engaging lamentation in standing or kneeling position around the voyager. In most cases, these lamentations were orchestrated by an elder within the household who would harmonically lead other women so the dirge would continue without interruption.
There were also moirologists (professional mourners), eksarkhos gooio, who would be hired by the family and become the chief mourner to perform a proper lamentation. During these lamentations, the sorrow of loss would naturally impel the attendants to cry—and even some to beat their own chests and attempt to rip their hair. In the second part, ekphora, the voyager would be escorted from his/her home to the burial site with a processional cortege. Depending on which social class the family belonged to, transportation of the body would be in an elevated manner where chariots and armed soldiers accompany the cortege. At last, burial or entombment would take place.
Among all these rites, women’s presence was undoubtedly dominant. Almost every act was conducted by them and no aspect lacked their influence. In her article published in 2018 on History Today, Patricia Lundy wrote; “the men kept their distance to salute the dead, physically signifying their separation from the realm that belonged to women.” Sakellaraki’s work affirms that modern women’s role—at least in some parts of the Earth—has identical aspects with the ancient way in the aftermath of a loss. Thus, by presenting this continuity via photography and other means of visual implementations, Sakellaraki’s project bears a neoclassical perspective. It derives its artistic strength through rendering a custom—with a glance of the 21st century— that has a classical root embedded deeply in Greek culture.
During my writing process, I was lucky enough to talk to Sakellaraki, and I asked her the following question:
Why do you think women came and continue to come forward as the chief figure in the aftermath of loss/death particularly within the Greek society and surrounding regions?
Dad is dead, come back home.
Alas, this was how Sakellaraki found out about the death of her father over the phone from her sister. In 2016, the year she lost her father, she returned to her homeland Greece to attend the funeral after spending a decade abroad working towards her studies and career. Hence, the emotions and thoughts she was experiencing during her time in Greece gave rise to The Truth is in the Soil, a long-term photographic project. Of course, this type of project was bound to have particular personal elements, which I believe is another strength, as these elements make the project even more special and unique. They form the departure point, but the scope of the project is not merely limited to these personal elements. The extent of the scope is enough to be embraced by many—we have all either lost or will lose someone we love at a certain point in our lives. This truth makes the project a universal one; although the structure may change, we all mourned or will mourn in some ways.
When I thoroughly observe the artistic perspective that Sakellaraki adopted and applied within this project, there was one specific thing I felt like I was exposed to: a serein. It is a meteorological phenomenon where it rains calmly even though the sky is clear and there is no single visible cloud. Her approach feels abstract yet tangible at the same time. One can mostly make sense of what the artist was aiming for, but these straightforward characteristics never nullify the aspects that let the observer’s mind interpret open-ended elements without any compulsion. On the other hand, her artistic versatility keeps the focus and mind of the viewer stimulated. We see a remarkable range of approaches and techniques in the project. From integrating hand-stitch embroidery on old photographs from her father’s archive to physically interacting with and transmuting the space that will appear in the frame in a unique way, Sakellaraki’s passion and love for this project overflows from its every element.
Besides my humble observations, I also have a brief description from Sakellaraki herself that presents the purview of the project. Here is how she worded it:
At the beginning of the article, I pointed out that it wouldn’t be inaccurate to situate Sakellaraki’s project within the neoclassical sphere, for it is exploring and conveying the remains of a specific classical custom via photography. She also enriches this neoclassical propensity even more with her way of storytelling. We encounter instances where viewers may only appreciate the entirety of what was captured if he/she knows enough about certain ancient references that appear in ancient literary sources. Her storytelling often relies on concepts and realms within ancient Greek belief structure, such as Tartarus and Erebus.