sculpture, installation,
notions of drawing, text and performativity

A song for my father

Can a song exist when nobody can listen to it? A music score of feelings, personal notes, compressed time and space must be one of those. That’s a song for my father. He is the one who taught me that everything is possible. I love/ed and admire/ed him tremendously. I miss him immensely.

My father loved singing. This music score is a personal take on one of his favourite songs; with my own notes for him. 

For the score of this song I used images and maps from four different places that my father lived:

  • Avdella, the village of Pindos where he was born (map on top left) – We are proud Vlachs with our own idiomatic language.
  • Tyrnavos, where he grew up (landscape on the left)
  • Athens, where he lived during his teens and early adulthood for few years (map on the bottom right of right page)
  • Larisa, where he lived most of his life (central landscape with the point touching the sun at his shop with beautiful fabrics from all over the world)

My father, Ioannis Migas, was born in Avdella Grevenon on January 7, 1944, and died in Larissa on May 22, 2022, because of a heart attack; after several years of problems in his warm and sensitive heart. He lived his life to the fullest and I was always looking up to him as the most charismatic person I knew growing up. 

He was a constant source of inspiration for me and we mutually loved and admired each other.  He was the best father I could ever have. He loved his/our family and always did everything he could in order to make everyone happy. His big loves were his/our family, his shop with fabrics, and soccer. He was a super talented soccer player, an amazing salesman and businessman, and the most beautifully dressed person I knew – most of his clothes were tailor made with amazing fabrics. He loved wearing hats, vests and beautiful coats for winter and for summer white or colorful shirts. A self-made, super smart, authentic personality who always liked to make people laugh and was ready to help with any means he could to anyone in need.

Growing up in my father’s shop in Larissa, the designs and textures of the beautiful fabrics were my first and most vivid introduction to art and design —I wasn’t exposed to any contemporary art until I was 19 years old. I remember walking with him in the center of Larissa and people stopping to talk with him. He was so popular that when he died the local newspaper put him on the cover with an article about his life in the section of Sports – the years that my father was involved as a scouter in the local team AEL the team was doing great and they won the National Championship.

I could write a book about my father’s life. 

For now, I made this piece.

Rest in Peace my beloved father.