I.Votanikos diary
2
I, Andi Schmied, confirm that the work presented in this report is my own. Where information has been derived from other sources, I confirm that this has been indicated in the report.
Edited and printed in London, 2012
“Beautiful as the chance encounter of a toilet paper factory and a bunch of dogs in an army base�
4
This project is not about clearing up an area, because there would not be any resources to do so and there would not be material to create anything in its place. This project is not about inventing new utopias, forgetting what is already on the site, because I do not believe in ahistorical perspectives. This project is not about gentrifying an area, because at the present time even the center of the city is struggling to survive. This project is not about letting nature grow all around, in its beauty and wildness, because cities are about people. And people should be the nature of them. This project is not about changing people, because people are the way they are, they got to certain ways of being during their lives, which are their own conclusion. This project is not about putting back Votanikos on the track of production, because it is over the productive way of living. This project is not about getting a forgotten area into the circulation of the city; because already the city itself is dysfunctional and the area works in a very different way.
This project IS ABOUT an area that is out of the general urban logic and keeps being out of it. This project IS ABOUT building up new ways of interaction upon the existing conditions. This project IS ABOUT the full use of human and physical resources. This project IS ABOUT human conflicts, thinking, discussion and experiences. This project IS ABOUT people continuing their ways of living in different platforms, with using the freedom they are surrounded by and interacting with each other. This project IS ABOUT memories, places, movement. THIS PROJECT IS ABOUT VOTANIKOS.
6
Index
I.Votanikos diary p.10. The banal p.16. The mental creation – Academia Platonos p.22. Living, sharing – The village p.32. Fast commuting – the main road p.36. Physical work – the factory workers p.56. Life, survival – the Roma p.64. The pure body, the forgotten mind: Prostitution p.68. Drawings of the people of Votanikos
II.Votanikos tool kit p.76. The abandoned catalogue p.90. The abandoned tool kit p.94. The human kit p.98. Votanikos introspections
III.Votanikos in action p.118. Stepping out of progress - a moment of pause p.120. Other moments of pause p.122. The route p.124. Animations p.134. The Matrix p.136. Votanikosness- Incisions, cuts, relocations p.144. Transformations, animations p.158. After the incisions p.160. The Matrix II - after the interventions p.162. The Post Mall - Conclusion
IV.Votanikos room p.180. Plan of the room p.182. Elevation p.196. The Post Mall in function p.204. A field for encounters
8
On the absence of use and the sense of freedom “How can architecture act in a terrain vague without becoming an aggressive instrument of power and abstract reason? Undoubtedly, through attention to continuity; not the continuity of the planned, efficient, and legitimated city but of the flows, the energies, the rhythms established by the passing of time and loss of limits.� (Ignasi de Sola-Morales)
10
The banal
The first time I got off the tube at the station Eleonas, the tube station of Votanikos,I felt I was entering a place where I am not expected. I turned to the right and just followed the only road were I have not seen any dogs. It was also the widest street so I felt that even if a dog would come – which seemed to be almost sure – I can just walk to the other side of the street. I kept on walking and on my left I saw a huge construction site; it did not seem to be active for the past several years. Seven cranes were looking up to the skies, and a huge concrete block that was starting to shape the first floor of a building was surrounded by all types of plants growing around them. This is the site of the never-built shopping mall, and stadium, the site of a forgotten future, a physical memory of something that would never happen… I kept on staring at the structure, and it’s heroic loneliness when the first dog appeared. I started to walk faster and my pulse automatically beat faster. It was 32 degrees and a clean blue sky, but I did not want to take off my woolen jumper just in case a dog bites me. I tried not to look there and the dog just continued its way without caring a lot about me. It disappeared just as it had appeared. Some minutes later when I already could concentrate on other things then my pure survival instinct, I realized that I was just passing by a small fire that was set just next to the road. Looking at it, I could not decide whether it was set on purpose or just the heat and the mixture of all kind of materials that were there made it happen. Even though it was just on the edge of a dried grass field the fire did not spread further. There were several different things burning there; from some large filled and empty plastic bags, little milk boxes, empty egg cartons, pieces of wood, and all of it on the top of some broken bricks and pieces of plaster wall.
I was staring at it for a while and continued my journey. At this point a little van with one wheel in the front and two wheels at the back passed by. The conductor was a half naked very skinny man, carrying apparent trash on his vehicle. The vehicle was not much higher than a sitting person and did not have doors on the side so the loud Greek music filled up its surroundings. The condition of the road was also not perfect; this tiny body was moving on the bumpy ground as if it were dancing to the music. When the driver saw me he slowed down for a while and we started to stare at each other without any feeling of discomfort and when we got all the visual information we needed we turned our heads and continued our ways.
12
A journey through Votanikos – from north to south, from the mental to the physical
14
Going a bit further dogs were resting in the grass, watching how the little bugs that surrounds them are interacting. A big open space followed with four benches in its corners that were so far from each other that you barely could see who is sitting on the other one. All of the benches were located below a tree to have shadow. I sat down on one of them alone and was observing the three old men, who were on the other benches. I started to take pictures of them, and decided to approach. I gave them maps of Votanikos and my watercolors with water, to paint for me how do they feel about the site, but except of one they declined. The one who was sitting the closest to my bench was listening to the radio and drew a little house and a heart on the back of the paper; on the blank side.
Entering Plato’s Academy, where only “geometers” could enter in its original times one is not expecting a green park with spread around ruins in it. But that is what it is. I walked in the academy and on the right just next to the door I have found a playground for children; without any children around it.
16
The mental creation – Academia Platonos
18
We had no form of oral communication and even the physical one seemed to be quite poor. They preferred the silence to my company. One old lady approached a very elegantly dressed old man on the bench and they were just sitting next to each other listening to the radio until I left.
20
I found a little valley in the Academy where the original ruins were. They had no signs around them; they were just there. The ruins shaped a “U” and on the other side of the valley there was one speared rock. I sat down on that one, which was the only one in the sun. In the shadow there was a couple kissing, sitting on Plato’s ruins and it seemed that they were completely self-absorbed. Two, approximately 10-year-old boys came down the valley with their bicycle and sat next to the couple, facing them about two meters away. They sat on the ruins as well, and were just giggling. Meanwhile, the couple did not even realize that there was anyone staring at them. The time seemed to stop at this moment. I quietly walked away.
Living, sharing – The village
22
Going south from Plato’s Academy I encountered a small village-like place, surrounded with abandoned factories and filled with dogs. I was very afraid entering some of the streets, since all the dogs were barking at the same time. Finally I found a street where I did not see any of them, though even then I knew that soon I am going to meet one. The first thing I saw were clothes hanging on a string on the street, drying. Questions started to come to my mind. Is it because they have not enough space inside? Does it mean that no one would ever steal these clothes, or would they just not even care about if it were stolen? They were right next to a small mobile barbecue stand.
24
24
Going a bit further, I found a door opened, and I looked in the house; it was a living room with no one inside. The furniture was a bit old-fashioned and in bad shape, but everything was there that one might possibly need; the sofa, the television, a little table and a lamp. Looking around the wall to see what is hanging there I have seen that there is a hole in the wall that connects this living room to the one in the house next to it. The hole in the wall was not bigger than 40 centimeters and looked like the result of an accident; but even if it were an accident it could have been easily fixed.
Which means that it really does not bother the residents to live in the same acoustic and light space with their neighbor. Going further, I entered a dead-end street that ended with a square with several abandoned buildings around it. All of them were opened but filled with trash. On the square itself there were modern ruins; pieces of the buildings around it, that seemed to be unused spaces and collection of volumes. Even from afar I could see that there is a sofa right in the middle of the ruins, which going closer gave a completely different understanding. Right next to the sofa I found a lunchbox that still had food in it that looked just a few days old.
The ruins of the surrounding factories are used in the same way as the ruins in Plato’s Academy; seating, eating, kissing, stalking.
26
Going on in the village I met an old woman who was just watering her flowers in front of her house. There were no separated streets and sidewalks so it was hard to define where where the boundaries were between the spaces; whether putting the flowers where she had them would bother a car that passes by or not. I tried to ask her with my “Greek body language� if she would paint for me on the Votanikos map, but instead she searched for some other people from the village to do it for me.
28
A 50-ish man came and sat down with me and he even spoke a bit of English. He started to paint, taking the task very seriously. I was sitting with him for more than an hour in the sun, him painting, me asking questions that he did not really answer, and people gathering around us.
30
After he finished his painting he invited me to his house to have lunch with him and his friend and three of the kids. They made a special plate for me with tomato, cheese, orange, a strong Greek coffee and some bread and even though I was not hungry I ate it all. They invited me for dinner as well, but I had to say no. After I left I quickly jotted down some of the the things they told me: They grew up in this area; they were born in the same bed on the same day; they work in their own small manifacture companies; their mothers are still friends; they love Votanikos; they really wanted a shopping mall to be built because it was supposed to be some change in the area; there are no changes in the area for 50 years; they want to die there; everyone knows everyone; they have no relationship with the Gypsies who live around there but they accept each other‌ I went towards the main road. On the way, I was passing many dogs lying around; they just seemed to be tired of the sun and I was too tired even to feel afraid.
32
Fast commuting – the main road
After the village I passed by Iera Odos, the sacred road, that used to be the entrance to Athens in olden days and nowadays is the connection with the suburbs. There is nothing happening on the main road. On the corner there is an abandoned ceramic factory that has many of its items just thrown on the street.
34
Just in front of it I found a small spontaneous living room and dinner table set with two chairs around it. Sometimes spaces without people suggest as much the presence of them as if they actually would be there. Votanikos has many of these spaces; abandoned living rooms, abandoned buildings where you can feel the ruins of the presence. I walked a bit more around the road, where the cars were just passing by not showing any interest of stopping here and found some buildings where I could look in and see its emptiness. Some others were half ruined and fenced but in a way, where the ruin instead of a dead space were more like a metamorphosed space suggesting new ways of living. I looked around carefully when can I have a moment to cross the road, when is there a moment of calm, when no cars would come. I crossed and started to get in the factory area.
36
Physical work – the factory workers
I passed by a huge bus garage where some buses were arriving and some were leaving. All of these buses them had some pieces missing; the license plate , some of the windows, pieces of the metal. I wanted to enter to take some photographs and see the life of these buses, but the porter stopped me.
Inside bags of trash, sofas, and papers are laying on the ground. Opening one of the exercise books I see some Greek writing; the only things I understand are the numbers, and dates. Looks like an accounting book, registering incomes and expenditures. It is not fully filled and stops in 1972, though the book is still in fairly good condition. I grab it with another empty exercise book that looks like something that has passed a rainy evening under the sky, and continue my way. My bag is getting heavier and my left shoulder is starting to complain. It’s 35 degrees.
I turned around and I see an empty villa. There are no fences, no blocking to get in. The nature got wild in its garden. Tall grass all over, and signs that dogs have passed by. The villa itself is partly boarded up, partly opened. In the garden there is a piece of wall with the windows on it. It seems like once it was part of the villa, but the wildness in front shows that it was a long time ago. The entrance is open; even the sunshine comes through from the other side of the building, where there is another opening.
38
40
As I was looking at the accumulation of the many objects in this small space there was silence in the room. I scanned with my eyes everything that surrounded me: three tables, one very old computer, papers all over, decoration items, photographs of the family, little plastic objects, folders, more papers, more little objects, a tap with seven different kinds of cheap cleaning products laying in it, some opened and some closed drawers. In this space two middle-aged men. The silence kept on until one of them broke it saying, “Greece nothing. Nothing. Greece nothing.� I did not know how to react and improvised a conversation of the dogs of the area. I wanted to know why there are so many. To this question they could not react. The English speaker also told me with a smile on his face that if I use my camera they will smash it. I quickly put it away.
I see a small kiosk on the left side of the street with a young man just coming out. I ask him about Votanikos but he does not speak English. He shows me with his hands that inside the kiosk his friend speaks English and we go in. They are staring at me as people might stare at an alien.
42
I got back to the road, which is at the same time the sidewalk, the field and the garden. The rhythm of the partly abandoned, boarded up factories on both sides is sometimes broken by very small workshops with two or three people inside, doing mechanical work. Entering one, the workers showed me their machines, told me that they close everything very carefully every evening, because otherwise the Gypsies would come to steal all they have inside. They were friendly and let me take some photographs.
All my communication in Votanikos is mainly through body language.
44
I continued my way and at some point I started to hear very loud Greek music. Going on, the music became louder and louder; it was coming from a kantina on the side of the street. Though only 4 p.m., it was full of factory workers. A barbecue set, a little van with the drawing of a skewer with a lemon, outside people sitting on chairs or wooden boxes. As soon as they saw me they started to invite me. Some of them with a skewer in their hand, some with a Fanta, others just gesticulating, making me understand that they wanted me to join them. I approached, and three men who had proper chairs right away jumped off them to give it to me. Two middle-aged men came to me with a big bag of French fries, pointing at the ketchup, mayonnaise and salt. Another man approached with two pork skewers, and a fourth with a Coke and a Fanta, asking which one would I like. I chose the Fanta. It’s been already five years since my last one. It tasted just fine. I was slowly eating my skewers, which were really good, freshly made on the barbecue, where an older woman and a man were trying to get the fire and sparks as intense as possible with a greasy hairdryer.
46
48
I sat down and started to take pictures. Through the lens they looked so different. They looked like a movie. They were telling me as well not to go further south on the site. Even they, despite their muscles, would not dare to go. Some of them spoke some words in English, and could tell me how they hate this area, and how they have almost nothing to do in their jobs since there is no demand for the products of these factories anymore.
50
52
They just seemed to be living in their own world, unrelated to anything political, social in a conscious way. They were just happy that they still had jobs, even though they earned less than a third of what they used to in better days. They were feeding the dogs and were telling me how they like to be free. That’s is why they are on the streets a lot. When I finished my drink and part of my food – I was still full with the bread and cheese from the village – the two man who were painting on my maps finished their drawings, I said good bye and headed towards the Romas.
54
Life, survival – the Roma
56
I turned to the left. Trucks were going all around me; the sun was burning my skin. A long road awaited me. Having the map in hand it seemed there were not many escape routes. Being robbed was a likely possibility. I had two cameras with me, my little handbag and a very ugly and half broken plastic bag with books in it. I rearranged my items; have put all the valuables in the plastic bag, and left my analogue camera in my hands. Tried to hide my handbag below my shirt, which did not work out.
I started to see a group of about 10 kids playing on the street and as I was passing they were really looking at me hard. My pulse rate was going higher and higher. I did not really know how much of it was a feeling of fear and how much of it was due to the fact that I have been told so many times not to go there. I speeded up and started to take pictures of the fence and house where they lived. Both the fence and the house were fully constructed by doors of different colors that reminded me of the stairs left in front of the ceramics factory on the main road and to the missing doors of some abandoned factories on the way.
58
They had their clothes hanging inside their “garden.� At this point I started to hear a couple of kids shouting to me. First I pretended that I didn’t hear but there was no place to run. In a matter of minutes I was surrounded by 10 of them. Two of the kids were pulling on my handbag very aggressively, and another one tried to get my camera with which I was taking pictures at the very same moment.
60
62
A factory worker just came with his truck and started to shout at them. They all ran away. For some miraculous reason I had everything I had before. I asked the factory worker – who had some notions of English – if he was sure that they would not follow me; he assured me of that and took me on his truck to the next spot of the site – the street of prostitution.
64
The pure body, the forgotten mind: Prostitution
I got off his truck just at the entrance of the street that was my final destination in Votanikos: a very long street without any bordering streets. As I started to go through I became more and more anxious. Policemen approached me and started to question me in Greek but after realizing I didn’t understand, through body language I understood that they were asking me what I was doing there and specifically what I was taking photographs of. “Tourist, tourist” was my only possible response, but it sounded strange in an area that would not be frequented by anyone other than prostitutes and their clients. I was dressed in a very unattractive way; a long checked male shirt with long black trousers. I did not look like someone who belonged there. I showed my ID card, though it was very hard to explain which country is it from. He let me go, but encouraged me to be as fast as possible and never come back here, especially not at night.
66
The rest of the street was deserted. There was no one anywhere. On both sides there were high concrete fences and since the street itself was curved I could not see the end of it. Nervousness was all around me. I started to breathe and go faster. I have found some traces of the prostitution that is going on during the evening on the site; some leftover condoms, porn DVDs, syringes with blood in them. I was terrified. My body was taken over by this sense of fear that the people on this street might experience every day.
Finally, I found myself on the main road, where the prostitutes get their clients from during the evening.
Walking on the main road, it took me an hour to get back to my hostel. I fell asleep in about two seconds.
Drawings of the people of Votanikos
68
Everyone I have asked to draw their feeling about Votanikos highlighted the shopping mall area. An area of the abandoned future. As well meanwhile they were telling me how much they wanted it to be built.
70
Andi Schmied, 2012, London