A decade ago, in the neglected district of Metaxourgeio, deep in the heart of Athens, a team of like-minded creatives kickstarted an unstoppable movement to reclaim abandoned buildings and generate a new neighbourhood energy. Communitism is a collective, a space, a programme of events and a way of life. They are also partners in the Tiny Spaces Deep Connections project, along with TaikaBox and INWOLE in Potsdam. During the Tiny Spaces kick-off meetings in October 2024, Tanja sat down with two members of Communitism in their new space – Kookooli.
Tanja: First of all, I would like you to introduce yourself and say who you are and what you do.
E: Hi, I’m Efrosyni Tsiritaki. I live in Athens, Greece, and am a cultural professional. I’ve been a member of Communitism since 2019. I have had different roles in the association with different proximity to the core of the group. Right now, I’m representing the team in the Tiny Spaces Deep Connections project.
N: Hello, I am Natassa Dourida. I think I’m also a cultural professional? My background is in structural engineering, restoration of monuments and then cultural management. I move somewhere between these, I guess, plus urbanism.
A couple of days ago, I was shown the rough cut of a fascinating documentary about Communitism. Can you tell me a little about the origins of Communitism?
N: I guess… We have to go back to 2014 or early 2015 when I was a structural engineer working on restoring monuments like Byzantine or Neoclassical buildings – but these were all outside of Athens. In Athens it was a crisis, people were not spending any money on the city and not restoring it, not caring about that aspect. And me, feeling as a young professional that I don’t have the creative outlet to my profession that I needed – because I did study restoration of monuments inspired by Athens, and wanting the locals to understand that Athens is a beautiful city, which they were not understanding at the time. So I had this insight that they don’t feel it’s a nice city because it’s not taken care of, not cleaned, not restored. And I was thinking of ways of activating the area of restorations and in general taking care of the monuments that are everywhere in the city, these abandoned buildings that are kind of crumbling upon us.
There was this feeling of a city decaying and then, in a psychological way, you enter this vicious circle – it’s a self-fulfilling prophecy, ‘The city is not good’. The fact that you live in such a place makes you feel that you deserve such a thing, and it’s a way of living so that, in the end, you’re not taking care of the environment or of yourself. I thought that if we could have a process that goes the other way – that it’s us changing our environment around us – then what would that mean to us as people? It could contribute to our self-awareness, give a better view of ourselves as persons. So, that was my thought process – like a mass therapy session, which to an extent, it did happen – it does take on that dimension.
So, I wrote the project. It was also very much just an idea, and then a fellowship on cultural management came to my hands. They were asking for thirty Greeks with any degree and a creative idea. So my creative idea was about a community that would run a sociocultural centre in a building that the owners would give for free in exchange for its maintenance. Keeping these buildings in use is the most effective and cheapest way of keeping them alive. It’s the misuse that helps them collapse in the end.
During that fellowship I went to Germany. I spent seven weeks outside Greece – for the first time ever – which was very precious, because in Greece, it was a crisis. It was like a constant pressure cooker, you couldn’t really think or be inspired, you know? So, that was super helpful to decompress, to get inspired and see how people did it in Berlin back in the nineties. Based on that short education that I got and, given the demands of that fellowship, I restructured the project into a process of developing the community that would claim a building, so it was a sociocultural experiment.
This is what we did for the first three years. The idea was to design three artistic events that would involve communities from the neighbourhood of Metaxourgheio, which is in the historical centre and has something like three abandoned historical buildings and about twelve communities per block; so many young creative bohemian professionals. So through this programme of three artistic events, the community would develop an abandoned heritage building into a sociocultural centre and the owners would give it for free in exchange for maintenance. And after these events, if it succeeds, we would have the community, the building, the legal structure, and the business plan to continue. And, against all odds, it did happen. And then we had the building granted permanence in 2018, and we ran it as a sociocultural centre until 2023.
I have to say that the process of the three events might be the only thing that I somehow want to take credit for – in the sense that “this is what I thought”. And then from the moment it started, the planning and everything, which was in December 2015, my role was only of stewardship, and everything that happened next was the creativity and the collective power of the city, of whoever was contributing in the space. So several principles developed of making space together, making a community through making a space together, and so on, and I was just observing them throughout the next six years we were in the space. And somehow, this is now part of the research I am doing.
Efrosyni, at what point did you come in, and how?
E: When we think of the narrative, I think it was quite an established community by then, with lots of people populating the building, and also the main team taking care of and managing the building, and co- and self- organising. I think I went there for a party for the first time, without knowing it was Communitism, it was just an event with different things happening and music in a heritage building, so I was curious. I actually learned about Communitism through a workshop from Maria Petinaki about the Metaxourgheio area. We created a kind of a little street game for people to get acquainted with different communities and different aspects, because it is a very diverse neighbourhood compared to other neighbourhoods in the centre in Athens, and there is a special quality of more coexistence and less friction than others, and it’s quite residential compared to others, less commercialised – at least it was, five years ago.
So, I was kind of intrigued. There was this format of social Thursdays where anyone could come and pitch an idea, and I had just come back from Berlin then – also a very inspiring month – and I wanted to pitch a poetry night. I met Natassa for the first time, and talked about my background in architecture and my interest in crafts. There was a space run by two architecture students that they had activated as a wood workshop, upcycling and things like that. So I got into that group first, and then through that, more involvement in the association, and eventually working and participating in events.
Where do both of you feel that Communitism is right now in its process?
N: We have a spiral as a logo, which, for me – I know that these kinds of symbols can be interpreted in several ways – is a spiralling cone, in a 3D way. It was a schema, a shape that I would describe to my therapist at one point when I was very young. Evolutionary spiralling up, let’s say. In the earliest parts of your life you start very broadly, just circling the centre point, which is your truth. Each turning point going up is a kind of crisis that gives you messages and meanings, and allows you to evolve. I don’t know how many spirals there might be, but I would say, right now, we might be on our third, fourth – somewhere there, somewhere where you’re actually changing. It becomes a little steeper. The inclination changes because you have to pull through something more demanding, maybe, but also, you’re closer to your truth and more motivated to get there.
It’s a nice image, because it gives direction and a sense of learning. Efrosyni, what do you think about where Communitism is right now in your experience?
E: I think it’s definitely in transformation and transition. I think we’ve described the previous six years with very much a sense of gravity to the space we had, because it was so big and beautiful and it could facilitate and accommodate a lot of people who couldn’t get a space in the city to create. Moving out of there in 2023, there was a sense of dissolution but not disillusion. Of course we were heartbroken, and within the group there were different reactions: anger, denial, disappointment, stubborn optimism, gratitude. In the end, what happened was that although the intention to stay long term by buying the building had been there, with our radical way of working and learning together, we couldn’t follow the rhythms of the market. A businessman ended up buying it, and he is using the cultural capital we built to make a cultural center, but of course without the community backbone, with much more business logic. That was a hard realisation for us, to feel like we’re a part of gentrification and to feel used by pinkwashing. A smack in the face really, knowing we didn’t make it in time.
But I wouldn’t change the experience, honestly. And looking forward, next time round all this experience was not for nothing. We won’t be starting from zero. We had something very solid, now it’s something more liquid and more airy, but still very much there, because obviously the network is still in the city. The people who created in the building are still in the city, populating different areas, different spaces, making their own, collectively organising between them… Our people, from the time of that happening,are still interested to commit to the next stage of strategizing to find the new building, the next building or participate in how we get that. Because obviously it was a question of taking what we’ve learned in the last six years and seeing how we could advocate and create a case for being in a space more permanently, not having to worry – having space security and securing it for communities and culture.
What do you feel, from that transformation or that spiralling, what are the key things to take with you to the next level?
E: First thing that comes to my mind is that… We grew up in a time, in Greece at least, when this more western and more individualist pace and way of living was taking over. In our history, we have a culture of solidarity and community and neighbourliness, and at least me, growing up in a city, I didn’t have that kind of experience. So, this opportunity for people to become part of a collective was a very big learning curve. There were lots of things to learn in terms of how to communicate, how we express, how we define borders and privacy and respect and diversity. Yeah, a lot of learning.
I do think that on reflection of the six years, there are things to learn from that bit. And I think we also tried consciously to do it well, because we needed it. But one thing I think was quite crucial for this part of the transition had to do with our relationship with commitment – how people define that, what emotions that brings up when it comes to commitment to collective things and not personal things… I think that worked differently inside of everyone. It also was expressed differently, but there was a sense of committing to the mission and still being behind it, in the capacity that you can.
What about you, Natassa?
N: I think that as an association, or as a project, I kind of feel that some of it connects to my research, in the sense that… The first – for me, this is the third phase – the first phase was the conception and the testing of the sociocultural experiment part, and the second phase was actually managing space in a community manner. Each one gave everyone a lot of [things to learn]. The first was inspiration, a kind of a big bang of bringing things together, the second was kind of establishing a different way of living and experiencing the city, living in a community. I grew up in a village, and the sense of community does exist there, somehow more than the city, but it’s still not necessarily pleasant. Like, it has to do with luck. Are you lucky enough to be in a friendly community towards you as a female and so on, or not? So it doesn’t necessarily feel like a safe place for a woman. That was my reasoning to move to Athens, the freedom to be yourself.
So, we kind of established a village accepting diversity. This was a learning of huge value as a proposal to the city. It had so many layers. Learning-wise, there’s a lot to unpack there. But, it was all about unlocking creativity and creating space for that, and finding ways to be in the city in an alternative manner. On that, I agree with Efrosyni. And now, the next step is somehow… If the issue is space for creativity, past and present, let’s say, and the first part was “how does it express itself in the city”, now the issue is “how does it get secured within the city”. So, this time around, the learning challenge is to find ways of doing things in a manner that is safe and also sustainable, and can guarantee that it will be there for the next 20, 30 years. So that people feel safe to commit to it and not be afraid that in a couple of years it might not exist if you are to invest your knowledge and your dreams and your creativity in it. This is the learning point.
I think personally, it taught me so many things. I think it’s always teaching me. Being in a community and allowing for the surprise that the other mind is bringing to the table, and from so many different walks of life. Because it also happened that, at that moment in time, in Athens – everyone was here, with the refugee crisis, with the socioeconomic crisis, documenting what was happening here, there was a lot to learn, for sure.
The impression I got from the documentary was that this was a huge movement you created, it really touched thousands of people who came through Communitism in different ways – participating, working or even living there. I’d like to reflect the interaction between the space you created, the village inside the city, and the surrounding city. And what about the official political level? Did you have any interactions that way?
N: Ah, forget about it! When it was a project, it came as a response or a reaction from the public sector that it could not, and would not, do anything about it. So it was like; let’s forget about nagging about how the state can not, and let’s see what we can do, because our life is now and the buildings are falling now.
From the public sector for the first four years, the government of both the city and the country…Either the left or the more progressive mayor of Athens – he was not exactly on the left, but he was kind of more intellectually open to new practices. But still, there was just an intention. “Congratulations, thank you but we cannot really help with things.” But at least there was some protection. Like, given how many crazy legal loopholes we were exploiting, they were never after us. It would be like robbing a church! How easy it could have been to have us end up indebted for the rest of our lives. So, there was this kind of protection. Which is warming in its own way. — I need to be a little bit humble, in that I think that the movement pre-existed. I was even inspired by the movement that was already in the neighborhood of Metaxourgheio. So, this concept of a village – we do call Metaxourgheio the Village – or we did, pre gentrification. So I think they were there already, they were taking the city with a carnival. And what we did was offer a space for it. So, by having a physical area of manifestation you could make it more tangible and prove the case of an alternative creative industry in Athens that no one knew. The creative community of all of Athens anyway was looking for space to express, and it found its space there, projected on the walls of the building somehow.
E: The way I experienced it throughout my involvement was… I think it felt very internal, like a bubble that once you were in it, it felt like a universe. But in terms of the building, it felt like a safe space, like our little village protected. I think that there were definitely different levels of interaction with the people… There were people I really think felt the same way about it and were aware of it, and I think that was quite a lot of the international collaborators that we had, who probably had similar experiences from their own countries. And also, part of the migrant community that we collected. Maybe they didn’t have the same references, but culturally they were more used to having this kind of collective existence, this emphasis on solidarity. Also there were a lot of audience who were not aware of the process, part of the big events or even smaller ones – I just want to note the spectrum of awareness and interaction in the community. And if I felt like everyone was on board that was there, maybe I would feel like it was a movement, like bringing people into a militia! But it didn’t necessarily feel like that.
But I did feel sometimes, when I saw things happening in the city or collaborations like the festivals, it felt like part of a bigger movement, a European or a global movement, or like the alliances that we felt like we had and that we were there for others. In that sense, yes.
N: I second that in the sense that I am more invested in the movement now, after we have left that space. All these people who saw what we did may feel that they can do it. I’m expecting to see more and more spaces in the city, because they are now empowered and feel free to think of new ways of doing things. And I think we are seeing it. This year more and more spaces are opening from people from our network. So I would like it to become a movement.
I actually want to go into the future, also linking with Tiny Spaces Deep Connections. How do you see the vision from here – the transformation, the spirals – where do you wish it would go, and how would Tiny Spaces fit into that?
N: I think that Tiny Spaces is a kind of Trojan Horse to go back in, somehow. One of the learning elements of the process was becoming a community by making a space, and by making a space together you feel some kind of ownership to it, because it has a part of you in it. So you always feel welcome and safe to go back to it.
Over the first year, we have already been reactivating it, but now we are bringing artists here, and giving artists the opportunity to have this as their central mission while they are here, they will bring energy to that space, and also keep bringing back the community, keeping the memory and feeling of that practice alive.
The goal is that, hopefully in a year and a half or two years from now, we will have the land to install a container. That will be the next space, our space, and the artists who will come will be the first ones to actually activate that space within the container, so it’s going to be the cross-pollinator of the past and the future. And I think that in a way, even if we had designed it, it wouldn’t have been so well situated in our moment.
E: I really relate to the Trojan Horse thing, because I think when things are smaller and contained they are much easier to digest, for the public and also for the people managing things. It’s just contained. So there is a way to have a little prototype, like a microscale of how something works and just multiply it, or let it expand. We’ve been discussing a lot of defining what tiny spaces are and realizing how subjective that can be, because tiny is a sense of scale that depends on your size and your context, and it changes a lot. There have been different things thrown into the conversation in terms of the Athenian tiny space; there’s an ambulance, there’s a sailing boat…There are many options that relate differently to the mission and the place where Communitism is at the moment and can bring different things to our process. I think we’re quite open as a group to ‘walk the talk’ about it, to be a pilot and experiment and research into how spacemaking and using tiny spaces can unlock creativity and creative processes.
N: I’m also super excited for our exchange: your practices, methodologies… I’m looking forward to coming to Oulu – at least at one point, I will come. The project will be my present!
Slow travel?
N: Maybe from Zürich, not Athens – it might be that Zürich is my starting point… about a day and a half less travelling. I’m looking forward to the exchange. What we are going to learn from you… With Inwole we have already had some exchange, but you are like an exotic fruit. So, I’m looking very much forward to that. The lectures, the knowledge that we are going to generate and share through the platform of the project.
Efrosyni Tsiritaki and Natassa Dourida were chatting with Tanja Råman.