Eva Papadopoulou: Fragments leading into the soul of Greece

Interview by Ira Papapostolou, Art Historian & Critic (AICA International)

From left to right: Ira Papapostolou, Lillian Psylla, Eva Papadopoulou

As part of GRtraveller’s WTM London 2025 Issue, we sought to celebrate the essence of “Greek identity through the senses” — and few contemporary Greek artists embody this dialogue between memory, material, and emotion as profoundly as Eva Papadopoulou. Her artwork from the celebrated “NOSTOS” series was chosen and graciously granted to grace our cover, capturing the delicate intersection of nostalgia, craftsmanship, and cultural heritage.
In this exclusive interview, conducted by art historian Ira Papapostolou, the artist reflects on the poetics of marble, the essence of simplicity, and the timeless beauty of truth in creation.

You were the first artist to introduce marble fragments into your work. Why did you choose marble as your medium? Tell us about your technique.

For me, material is not just a means to an end; it is a dialogue partner in the creative process. Through it, I can express thought, give shape to feeling, and translate an idea into form.

The materials that allow me to express myself are often found by chance, through experiments and accidents. That is how I discovered the marble fragments I now use in nearly all my works. I came across them unexpectedly while searching for marble pieces for a traditional mosaic I was making at the time. They were discarded remnants, useless to marble craftsmen — but to me, they carried a strange kind of life.

I took a small quantity with me, and back in the studio, I began to work with them. The first piece that emerged was a tree, as if moved by the wind in one direction. When it was finished, I felt that something essential had taken place. There was a language in this material that called me to continue.

Over time, and through many rounds of experimentation, I realized that these fragments were the material that spoke most deeply to me. It is a material that guides me, that “responds” — not to impose, but to co-create. It became a starting point, a direction, and a tool for dialogue with the formless, with what seeks to take form.

Today, it remains the main medium of my artistic language. Through it, I come closer — even if only for a moment — to giving tangible expression to an intangible thought.

The Nostos series was born from your own inner journey through the memories and flavours of Greece. Tell us about that journey. How do you wish viewers to feel when they experience this body of work?

The Nostos series is a chronicle of my time — the imprint of the years I have lived. Each object I sought to depict holds a story, a fragment of memory from my childhood and adolescence. Yet beyond this emotional connection, I see the series as a message in a bottle, a trace left behind for the future.

I imagine it much like the artefacts uncovered in archaeological excavations — remnants of another era that help us understand the everyday life of those who came before us. A charred loaf of bread, for instance, discovered after the volcanic eruption in Santorini, can transport you back in time; it makes you imagine the person who pulled it from the oven, or the customer holding it warm in their hands.

In the same way, I want the viewer, when standing before the works of Nostos, to feel as though they are touching a fragment of memory — not only mine, but a collective memory that belongs to all of us. To sense the warmth, simplicity, and nostalgia of a time that may have passed, yet continues to live through the traces it left behind.

What does matter mean to you? What role does it play in your life and in your work?

For artists, matter remains fundamental. It is both the tool and the field of expression. It gives form to a formless thought, bridging the inner and the outer world.

It moves me deeply that the material I use is recyclable — a material not uprooted from the world, but still connected to it. I find it discarded, forgotten, broken, and I give it new form. I take it from nature and, with respect, return it to nature again. I work with it without harming or exhausting the earth — much like humans once did, collecting and transforming, but never in excess.

Matter gains true meaning when there is balance. The fewer and more essential our needs, the less matter we require. The more superfluous our desires, the more meaningless matter accumulates around us.

What matters most to me is that the material I use can reintegrate into the natural environment, completing its cycle — leaving the earth, passing through my hands, and ultimately returning transformed yet familiar. Just as nature has always done.

Is there an artist who has influenced you? Whom would you choose as your teacher?

All artists could, in a way, be my teachers. That is why most artists, when they travel, visit museums — to study the works of others. It is an act of deep observation and respect, a silent apprenticeship. Through another’s work, you try to understand their thought, to sense what inspired them, what need led them to create.

I grew up surrounded by art — in my father’s and brother’s art foundry — where I was fortunate to witness the formation of works by other artists, mostly sculptors. This early exposure to different aesthetics and gestures left a lasting mark. Each of those creators, whether famous or unknown, taught me something. I carry within me an image from each — a small fragment that shaped me.

But the essence is not imitation. The goal is to translate all these impressions, lessons, and memories through your own voice and identity. That is, for me, the enduring challenge of the artist: to filter what one sees and feels, and to express something personal — not reproduction, but interpretation. Not imitation, but inner truth.

We live in a world overflowing with images. What matters is how we internalize them — what we keep, what we let go, and how we ultimately speak with our own voice. Because only when there is personality and authenticity does art gain meaning.

What does beauty mean to you?

Beauty, for me, is harmony. It is what we see — or feel — that brings a sense of balance, wholeness, and calm. It is proportion, the coexistence of elements in an organic, natural way. It can exist in a face, a body, the colors of a painting, the lines of a landscape. It is the fine balance between light and shadow, intensity and stillness, the present and the timeless.

Beauty is a feeling, not just an image. It is something that does not make you look away. Something that does not wound — neither the viewer nor the world. On the contrary, beauty has a healing power; it soothes, it moves, it restores.

True beauty does not shout. It calls to you in silence. It can reside in a simple gesture, in a natural phenomenon, in a small piece of stone. It needs no spectacle — only authenticity.

In art, beauty is not decoration; it is essence. It is the pursuit of a depth that touches the human spirit gently and sincerely. That is why it remains timeless.

Your work radiates personal truth, simplicity, and refined taste. Do you believe these are values people need today?

When an artwork is created with love, honesty, and personal truth, it begins to reflect the artist’s inner self. Every piece becomes a revelation — an intimate gesture of communication with the viewer. It is as if the artist reaches out and says: “This is who I am. This is how I see and feel the world.” That is the way I approach creation — with sincerity. And I hope that sincerity is visible in my work.

The materials I use — simple, raw, recycled from nature — keep me grounded. They do not allow for superficiality or excess. They remind me to work with restraint, respect, and simplicity. Through them, I try to express what exists within me, free from unnecessary ornamentation.

Truth, like beauty, does not shout. It reveals itself quietly. To find it, one must observe, dig deeper, stay still. Life itself is, at its core, a search for truth — about ourselves, the world, and everything around us.

This is also the artist’s path. They carve — literally and metaphorically — experiment, shift direction, and allow form to reveal itself. And somewhere in that process, if they remain present and open, truth appears. That is perhaps the greatest reward of creation.

I believe that truth, simplicity, and introspection are values people deeply need today. We live in a world that constantly distracts us from ourselves. Yet if we stay reflective, if we give space to silence and observation, we may rediscover the truth already within us — just as an artist finds it within their own work.

The ION chocolates, the Loumidis parrot, Delta ice cream — are these childhood memories for you? Why did you name this series “Nostos”?

I named this series Nostos because these works contain objects tied to images of the past. Each object holds a personal story, a memory that evokes nostalgia, which I translate into material and form.

The Loumidis parrot, for example, takes me back to Skyros, to my grandmother. I was still a child, and she would make me a small, watered-down coffee so we could drink it together — as equals — and talk. It was a ritual. A child and an elderly woman, sitting across from each other, with a cup of coffee between them. That image, though simple, stayed with me forever.

The “Butterfly” threads remind me of my mother, sitting and embroidering traditional Skyrian patterns — her movements, the way she held the fabric, the light in the room. These details are etched in my memory, delicate yet vivid.

Every object in this series is a vessel of memory. It belongs not only to me but to a shared Greek experience. It is a trace of an era — perhaps not yet faded, but slowly receding. That very distance drives me to record it, to give it shape, to preserve it a little longer.

It is not merely an act of nostalgia. It is an attempt to speak about the time I lived in — a period that may seem ordinary now but will one day hold weight as testimony. I see this series as a bridge between the personal and the collective, between the present that fades and the past that insists on being remembered.

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This feature is a standalone art chapter of GRtraveller @ WTM 2025,
celebrating contemporary Greek creativity through the work and words of sculptor Eva Papadopoulou,
a dialogue between memory, material, and the timeless spirit of Greece.