Participants in a Global Culture

F: How did you become involved in painting? What were the triggers, teachers, influences? How would you describe your work in terms of themes, materials, and technique?

Nikos Moschos: My connection with painting began very early, thanks to my father, Takis Moschos, who is a painter, iconographer, and art conservator. The smells of the workshop, the colors, the pencils, the canvases were an integral part of my daily life, framed by a large library filled with books of all kinds — art and literature alike.

From an early age, I remember myself literally “scanning” works from every era, especially those with dense compositions — from Masaccio, Tintoretto, and Bosch to Siqueiros and Léger. My admiration led me to try copying (on paper) many of these works, which I believe gradually shaped my later aesthetic preferences for a type of painting that is highly kinetic, cinematic in conception, and at the same time enigmatic. In retrospect, I suspect that my preference for Tintoretto or Bosch may also have stemmed from their strong narrative quality which, as a fan of comic books, I likely associated with the stories and frames I loved as a child.

During my art school years, interaction with fellow students and professors redefined my perception — mainly my ability to handle and decode expressive media. Everything I had known until then was being redefined. Every mark on a canvas, the way paint was applied, acquired a new weight. This made me more introspective as a painter, and I moved toward more minimal compositions, constantly questioning myself.

After graduation, my compositions began to grow more densely populated. At the same time, I abandoned oil paints altogether and have since been working exclusively with acrylics, a medium I was already somewhat familiar with thanks to my father. Tintoretto, Bacon, the artists of the New Objectivity, and Tarkovsky provided a great deal of food for thought during this period and valuable tools for what was to come.

Over the past ten years, more specifically, the central axis of my work has been constant transition — the reconstruction of matter, of concepts, and by extension of the psyche itself. This theme develops through sub-themes that have preoccupied countless artists for centuries. These works are composed of both recognizable and abstract elements, ultimately creating visual allegories set within a broader contemporary narrative — one rooted in the attempt to adapt to a constantly shifting reality.

F: How do you see contemporary painting in Greece and around the world? What trends do you identify?

Nikos Moschos: Looking at works produced across the globe, one can easily spot common expressive affinities, regardless of the geographic location of the artists who created them. With very few exceptions, one sees everywhere the same general categories within each expressive medium. This is undoubtedly due to the power of the internet, which, in a sense, has shrunk the world map.
Issues of national identity have been swept away by the torrent of a globalized society and are either found as superficial characteristics of a work or have been entirely erased. This is natural, as the stimuli we all receive are, for the most part, shared. And even when they are not identical, the way we receive them is. The speed at which events unfold and are absorbed is unprecedented.

Simultaneous access to information everywhere has made us participants in a global culture, despite whatever objections some may raise. In Greece, painters — especially those of younger generations — largely follow global trends in every respect. From realistic representation to expressionism and non-objective art, the classifications may appear the same as in the past, but they carry the distinctive hallmarks of our present era. All are, to some extent, immersed in the baptismal font of postmodern culture, which has no fear of even the most disparate combinations. After all, in this age of information overload, every form of art feels like a malleable substance that can be mixed with anything.

Inevitably, all these typologies of art (and of the world in general) have faced and continue to face reactions of varying intensity — primarily from those who defend the traditional values of painting, as well as from those who consider themselves keepers of tradition and who work according to strict ethnological and cultural rules. I would like to conclude by adding that, as is usually the case, in the open field between extreme tendencies there are artists who, aiming at their personal vision, carry the necessary tools of the past into their contemporary quests and evolve, ignoring the unnatural pace imposed by mass culture.

F: Is there an art criticism tradition in Greece today? And more broadly — is the younger generation in Greece being educated to appreciate art, to love beauty, or to develop their own criteria for it?

Nikos Moschos: The relationship of an individual or a society with art can be reflected in many aspects of life — for example, in the design of private and public spaces. Looking at the Greek urban landscape, one is often left feeling anything from discomfort to embarrassment due to bad taste, neglect, lack of planning, functionality, and ultimately, quality. Behind all this lies the position that art occupies in the collective consciousness of modern Greek reality.

That said, the matter is more complex and clearly stems from the socio-political factors that shaped modern Greek history. Looking at the first half of the last century, we see art criticism columns gradually multiplying, with writers from the literary world (Palamas, Politis, Elytis, etc.) who were later succeeded — in the late interwar period — by a generation with university training in archaeology and art history (Kalligás, Chatzidakis, Prevelakis, etc.), who both critiqued and educated an aesthetically untrained audience about artistic developments. The transmission of new ideas continued after the war, during the 1960s and 1970s, when literary and art magazines such as Zygos or Anti (which took the baton from the short-lived Third Eye of the 1930s) thrived, setting trends, promoting artists, and shaping to a large degree the Greek art scene.

From the 1990s onward — until the rise of the internet — a number of magazines such as Arti, Ta Nea tis Technis, and Elculture appeared, signaling a period of creative ferment. Today, we observe a plethora of events emerging weekly — from galleries, foundations, alternative spaces, and even in public spaces, through various artistic interventions. More and more people are involved with the visual arts, as art schools (public and private) in Greece have multiplied, and many study abroad.

Nevertheless, we have never before had so many people, works, and events in constant flow, and yet we see that the ratio of these to serious critical discourse is completely disproportionate. Except for a few cases in newspaper columns, proper criticism has nearly vanished and has been replaced by mere presentations based on press releases. The sharp, well-documented critical voice that could evaluate an artist’s work lies dormant compared to the past.

There are many reasons for this — ranging from mere editorial indifference to the desire to maintain a hospitable image for readers. But the fact remains that with the mere dissemination of information, the educational dimension has been lost. This weakens not only the relationship of visual art with the general public but also the reflexes of younger artists and art lovers. They are turned into passive receivers of all sorts of verbosity and eloquent intentions, without real substance. Admiration and acceptance of whatever is offered.

Beyond this domestically cultivated indifference, in an era without manifestos, where entirely disparate works and forms enjoy equal recognition, one may rightly wonder what the role of criticism could be today. The fluid framework of the postmodern era allows theorists and artists alike to exhaust their subjectivity in one direction or another, without fear or obligation to be held accountable or censored — something that was possible even in times when the criteria distinguishing good from bad were far more concrete. All the more so in a time as insatiable as ours.

F: How have the crises of recent years (economic and health-related) affected the art market and your own work?

Nikos Moschos:Looking back at the last decade, one could easily liken the artist to a climber on a steep cliff or a wandering seeker in the desert.
Beginning with the financial crisis, we saw a large part of artistic production conforming and aligning with more widely accepted standards — regardless of medium — in order to adapt to the needs and demands of a broader audience. Economic insecurity triggered a more pronounced extroversion, which became even more evident through the use of the internet — peaking during the health crisis we are still experiencing. Even the most introverted forms have developed methods of exposure seeking the widest possible acceptance, leaving aside the targeting of a more initiated audience.

With the arrival of COVID-19, the internet became a lifeline for galleries and artists, offering — from a safe distance — everything from digital simulations of individual works on a living room wall to full virtual tours of exhibitions. The physical and digital spaces were, in a sense, equalized, leading to the normalization of online exhibitions and virtual galleries.

Where I think we should focus more, regarding the decisive contribution of the internet, is the gradual shift in the generative intentions and ultimately the qualitative features of a work of art. This parallel reality has altered the value system that reflects an artist’s popularity and therefore their commercial impact.

As both a user of social media and an artist who experienced the pre-internet era, I have the sense that artistic production is increasingly aimed at becoming more easily digestible and more widely approved by the largest possible audience. The artist no longer expresses personal emotion or concern with their own unique idiosyncrasies but could be likened to an advertiser seeking to captivate the public with a spectacular image or a catchy phrase. Everything is exhausted on the surface of the work, and the viewer’s expectations are shaped accordingly.

Even non-objective art produced today has, to a great extent, lost any spiritual or existential substance, dissolving into decorative patterns. Mysteries and associations have been sidelined in favor of a meticulously polished surface that is consumed at the speed of a scroll. Of course, there are always bright exceptions that open a new window in every era.

For me personally, the past decade marked a shift toward a more codified, denser expression — as I mentioned earlier — with a strong sense of transition, built from recognizable and abstract elements. My works rely on numerous preliminary sketches and thus require more production time, even though the number of working hours has not decreased.

This new body of work was first presented in 2012, initially surprising and provoking reflection among those who had been following my work until then. At the same time, it attracted the attention and interest of a new group of supporters, both within and outside of Greece, who continue to engage and connect with the concerns my works explore.

During the past two years — especially in the early months of lockdown — I had the chance to slow down my working pace and to look at the development of my work over the years with as much calm and detachment as possible. Reapproaching them, I felt an urgent need to search for new solutions to fundamental questions about how I construct an image. Contributing decisively to this reflection was a series of drawings I have been developing since 2019 (in parallel with my other works), in which I attempt — working more spontaneously — to give less stylized and more indeterminate compositional forms to the connective tissue of my works.

F: What are your next plans?

Nikos Moschos: Since late 2019, I feel I have been working even more hours — not only to keep up with solo and group exhibitions, but also because I have a desire to see new elements emerge in my works. The series of drawings I mentioned earlier played a crucial role in this process, part of which will be presented in autumn 2022 in Italy.

Until then, I will be participating in group exhibitions in Greece and abroad, which will be announced in due time, as well as in a very interesting residency taking place in the summer of 2022 in Sicily.