Dimitris Spanos – Playing the tsambouna … and so much more

The headlights of Dimitris’ car dart across the road, illuminating the rocky walls and the narrow street ahead of him. He has to go slow, because thick fog is hanging over the mountains. It is a cold day late in November and Dimitri just has one wish: to go home, sitting by the fireplace and enjoying some quiet moments with his wife and kids.

But there it is! Standing in the middle of road, looking directly in his eyes. Dimitri brakes hard, managing to stop his car just a few centimeters in front of this big black billy goat. A beautiful animal! Great brown eyes, staring quietly, but curiously into the light. Uniformly built, shimmering black fur. Dimitri lets his eyes glide over the impressive majestical animal. Indeed, it is a muscular goat, strong legs, certainly good meat – but Dimitri’s attention is focused on its big belly. « Wow », is all he can think, « that skin and fur would make a wonderful bagpipe. »

(c) Birgit Urban

Before his very eyes, he can already see a beautiful new bagpipe – a tsabouna as it is called in Greek –  he can feel it in his arms, when he would press the air out of its skin and he can already hear the deep sound that will slowly and melodiously make its way out of the air-filled goat skin.

But then Dimitri shakes his head, as if waking up from a dream, and he blows the horn of his car several times. He is getting impatient. « Get out of my way », he murmurs, « you will not be my next tsampouna. I will find another good skin. Get out of my way. I wanna go home! »  Finally, the billy goat makes a turn, disappearing quickly into the darkness, down the rocks and Dimitri continues his way through the fog.

Later this evening – when the meal is finished and the kids are in bed – Dimitri disappears into his workshop for a while. He takes a deep breath, inhaling the smell of wood and tanned goatskin hanging from the ceiling. This is his paradise; here he can dive into his world of music and art – the best moment of the day.

(c) Birgit Urban

He switches on his record player, and it takes him a while to select a record with traditional bagpipe songs from Chios. He just recently found it in Athens, in an old shop in Plaka and it is a treasure to him.

(c) Birgit Urban

Dimitri closes his eyes, listening carefully to the intense rhythm that is filling the room. He surrenders to the vibe, clears his head of everyday worries and now he has enough capacity to devote himself to making a new musical instrument. He is working on a nice piece of wood that he found a few days ago. Its shape suggests that it will make a beautiful flute, and Dimitri wants to finish it for his son. While working on the wood and listening to the music, Dimitri smiles tenderly. Such a pleasure to see the interest the little boy has in his father’s musical instruments, how eager he is to learn. He reminds Dimitri a lot of himself when he was that age.

Dimitri was still a young boy when his godfather introduced him to music. He had many different bouzoukia and listened and played a lot of rebetiko. Dimitri was fascinated by this world of music and wanted to learn more about it. Later, it was his great-grandmother who observed his interest in traditional music with great admiration, who gave him his first bouzouki. And for Dimitri, this was a door-opener to paradise. This instrument taught him dedication, compassion and the stubbornness to get to the bottom of things.

Since Dimitri does not like being told how to do things, he refused to take bouzouki lessons with a teacher. Instead, he taught himself everything. His approach? He listened to the same song for hours and tried to find the notes on the instrument. It took him a year to catch it… and many more months until it sounded really good.

At that time Dimitri lived with his parents and his older sister in Athens. Even though his mother has roots in Akamatra, the family moved to Athens when Dimitri was four years old. His father worked first as a sea captain and later in a textile factory in Athens. Since the family’s life took place in Athens, they all only came to Ikaria during the summer holidays.

Life in the capital was not always easy for them and Dimitri is very grateful to his parents for the sacrifices they made to ensure that their children received a good education in Athens.
Later on, his parents returned to Akamatra on Ikaria and opened a shop for agricultural supplies.
Dimitri, then 18 years old, remained in Athens and began studying agriculture, where beekeeping was of particular interest for him.

But music was his real love! … and so, he often neglected his studies when he got the opportunity to play at a panegyri. In the meantime, he had become a pretty good bouzouki player … and he also used the time to teach himself the lyre and the lute.

With all the music in his head and his degree in agriculture in his pocket, Dimitri couldn’t stand it in Athens any longer and he returned to Ikaria. He started working in his parents’ business and now you can find him planting trees or helping the islanders with creating and maintaining their agricultural gardens.

The rhythm of the island and his work, which is largely dictated by the seasons, leave him enough time for his music. For Dimitri, this is perfect. He likes his routines, never had been a big traveller; Ikaria is enough for him.

(c) Birgit Urban

Coming back to his homeland, Dimitri spends a lot of time researching Ikarian music history – a field that really suits him, since he doesn’t really get into modern music. Exploring and playing traditional music gives him great pleasure and brings him together with like-minded people. These are good moments.

For Dimitri, Ikarian music and its roots belong together. And this is where a long journey has started. A journey that immerses him deeply not only in Ikarian, but also Greek musical history … a journey that offers him many conversations with older Ikarians.

But Dimitri doesn’t just collect passive knowledge, he transforms it into his own music. Not only has he started writing his own lyrics, but he has also begun building instruments.

His interest in making his own instruments began when he discovered that in earlier times bagpipes were part of the traditional music repertoire on the island. A “tsampouna” was part of the Ikarian life – an instrument, that was played to celebrate life and spend good moments together. And then – somehow – it disappeared from the music scene.

Dimitri became curious about this instrument, wanted to know how it was played, what place it could have again in Ikarian music. As he could not find a traditional tsampouna on Ikaria, he ordered one from Chios made by the famous Michalis Kounanis, better known as Babelis, and then, the adventure started: step by step Dimitri studied the instrument and built an exact copy of it. He put a lot of thought into it. It helps a lot that he is good at maths, because that enabled him to design the perfect shape of his first instrument. And of course, he wanted to play it, and of course – again – he taught himself everything.

(c) Birgit Urban

Since then, he has built many bagpipes in different sizes. And a tsampouna needs a lot of time, energy and dedication: you have to become one with the instrument, you have to give it your soul – because for Dimitri a tsampouna is the queen of all his instruments.

Tsampounas are made from goat skin and therefore, the selection of the right “animal” is crucial for the whole process. Dimitri selects the animals very carefully. Their bellies are particularly important, as this part will later become the main part, the bag of the tsampouna. But Dimitri would never kill a goat just for a good bagpipe. He gets the skins after the animals are slaughtered and can often choose the best ones. And then he takes on the challenge of turning this skin into a high-quality tsampouna, whose sound will long remain in the memories of the Ikarian panagyria and its guests.

The result can be seen in his workshop: Tsampounas everywhere, and goatskins hanging from the ceiling, waiting for their time to come.

(c) Birgit Urban

And Dimitri didn’t stop by just making bagpipes: knowing what his hands are capable of, he began to make all kinds of instruments. He uses almost anything he can find as materials: different types of wood become flutes or rattles, goat bones become percussion instruments.

Over the years that workshop has become a kind of museum of different kind of instruments, but most importantly it became a meeting place for various music-loving Ikarians, as well as visitors to the island. People are coming to bring him books, pictures and old records about Ikarian music. They are passing by and over a glass of tsipouro, they recall the names and stories of famous Ikarian musicians and the songs they played. At these moments, Dimitri listens very carefully, because later he will write down these lyrics word for word, trying to play them himself.

(c) Birgit Urban

This shed, in the middle of nowhere on Ikaria, is a treasure for Dimitri and other fellow musicians on the island who, like him, not only want to keep the origin of the Ikarian music alive, but also want to restore the respect this music deserves.

Against the backdrop that year after year, the traditional Ikarian panagyria are degenerating into pure tourist attractions, organized purely for tourists, Dimitri is committed to preserving the actual tradition of music in the collective memory. He became part of a group of musicians who are clearly following this path. You don’t find in them on the very loud dance floors during summertime, more in hidden places where people can really open their heart for the deep traditions of Ikaria.

Playing the tsampouna has opened many new chapters in Dimitri’s life. Not only has he lived crazy moments while playing at different tables, festivals and panagyria, but he also became a teacher – he, who doesn’t really like teachers. But this is different now. Dimitri is not a teacher of the conventional kind.

He only accepts to “give lessons” when he senses that the pupils have a genuine interest in traditional music and the instrument, the tsampouna. And then he is ready to give it all. He recalls the story of a pupil, who was very shy at the beginning, but through music, he was able to open up, inhaling all the vibes of freedom the bagpipe could give to him. Dimitri is very proud while talking about him and showing videos where they are playing together – not only, that he can see the musical progress of the young boy, but also that he can experience how love for music can be passed on to others.

(c) Birgit Urban

And what is the biggest success so far for Dimitri, while playing the tsampouna? Certainly his wife! She is also a musician, and they met each other at an Ikarian panagyri – what else did you expect? Dimitri – describing himself as a bit shy – invited her to play with him … and music became a good matchmaker.

Since then, they have played many times together … and somehow they are succeeding to pass their love for Ikarian music to the next generation. You can find their son and daughter in their father’s workshop … playing with the instruments and getting into the right rhythm. The next generation is preparing to carry on the tradition of the Ikarian music. Against all odds, there is no need to worry.

(c) Birgit Urban

(@ Text and photos: Birgit Urban)