Erieta Attali: Chasing the light of Delos
The idea for Delos‘s exhibition was born halfway across the world, in Singapore. That’s where Erieta Attali, then in her early 20s, was teaching at the university. A representative of the Greek embassy approached her at an exhibition on her favorite subject—bridges—and discussed the possibility of an exhibition about archaeological sites in Greece. Having started out as an excavation photographer, she accepted and brought some initial ideas to the table. Her extensive travels for photographic projects and teaching—across New York, Santiago, Tokyo, and Paris—had taken her far from Greece. However, practically speaking, it was impossible to get all the permits she needed from the Archaeological Service. So she focused on a single subject: the center of the ancient world, Delos.
A few days before her exhibition at the Benaki Museum, “Delos: Land at Sea”, she recalls:
“I had already made my first visits in September 2022, scanning the island from end to end with the help of my assistant and my partner. Every evening we had to leave by 7 because the site was closing, and the light wasn’t ideal—we were missing the best time. I applied to the French School of Archaeology for permission to stay a few evenings. They granted it easily, as I was also in a three-year residency at the Cité Universitaire in Paris. I returned with my assistant to Mykonos in October. When we arrived, we were met with intense winds but also incredible light. Flights were canceled, and we were stranded on the island. That’s when I had an overwhelming experience. From Little Venice, I could see Delos in the distance—waves crashing, the wind howling, and an incredible orange-red-pink light bathing everything. I thought, this island is so close, yet so far. Isolated in the middle of nowhere but also at the center of the Aegean. That’s what the whole concept was based on. Had I not been stranded in Mykonos, I wouldn’t have seen Delos this way. In the end, we managed to stay only two out of four nights at the guesthouses of the French School. The wind was so strong, our tripod couldn’t even stand. On New Year’s Eve 2023, I returned and photographed Delos from Paros and Naxos. I wanted to see it from afar, to explore its relationship with the other islands, to understand what it means to be both in the center and in the middle of nowhere. That’s when I applied to return in June, September, and October 2023.”
“Right now, architecture in Greece is commercial. But Delos is unique. I never expected that first innocent and unsuspecting trip to become a life’s work.”
Born in Tel Aviv, the renowned Greek architectural and landscape photographer grew up in Istanbul in the 1970s—a city where the images and smells of other eras were always present. Her childhood memories include idyllic landscapes, Byzantine monuments, the Bosphorus, and the Princes’ Islands, where she spent summers. But also moments of terror: the threat of war during the 1974 invasion of Cyprus and the bloodshed of Red May Day in 1977.
“A person growing up in such a city is inevitably shaped by the Keratian Gulf, the bridges, the ruins, the island life. These images sparked my early fascination with documentaries and remote landscapes. That continues to this day. I published the book ‘Periphery: Archaeology of Light’, which won the prestigious Gold Award at the German Photo Book Prize 1920, examining architecture in the world’s hinterlands. Whenever I return to Tel Aviv, childhood memories of the old city, the sun, the sea, the long beach come rushing back. I think about where the Mediterranean ends—and my mind drifts to Gibraltar, the gateway to the Atlantic.”
When she eventually followed her mother to Athens, the comparison with the City was overwhelming. On Sweden Street, where they settled, she met her first girlfriends and Americans who were in and out of the American School of Classical Studies. At 13 she decided she wanted to be a photographer: “My family didn’t approve at all and I was desperate, I had to find a way to make it on my own. I had to find a way to make it on my own. I was lucky enough, when I finished high school in Marasleio, to create the first antiquities conservation department with a photography class in a Vocational High School on Patision. It had great teachers and the director of the photography department was Ieronymidis, who specialized in archaeological Photo. By the time I graduated there was a Photography department set up at the TEI, where I took the exam and passed. My professor there was Nikos Panagiotopoulos. I graduated with a specialization in archaeological and scientific photography and my first job was in Vergina. There I was chief photographer for five years and I was lucky enough to work with Angeliki Kottaridou. I specialized in the underground Macedonian tombs and ancient Greek painting. I also worked with Maragou on Amorgos and on many other excavations for twelve years.”
In 1995, the late architect Giorgos Simeoforidis invited her to collaborate, and her whole course changed. “The first assignment Simeoforidis gave me was to photograph Zenetto. I went to Lycabettus and photographed the rock around the theatre. It was a surprise to him, but he ended up making a cover. I think it was for an architecture triennale in Milan in 1996. I climbed the rock and photographed in large format rather than digital. In 1997 I left for a postgraduate course in London, at Goldsmiths, working at the Thessaloniki Museum at the same time. All my life I’ve been doing this, studying and working at the same time. The next commission from Simeoforides was for an exhibition on Greek architecture of the 1990s. And that’s how my career as an architecture photographer officially began. In 2000 I got a Fulbright scholarship and went to Columbia, New York. When I returned, I worked for the Americans at the American Institute for Aegean Prehistory as head photographer at Pachia Ammos in Crete. For a year I commuted back and forth between New York and Crete.”
In 2001, he began research on famous glass buildings in America and then around the world. He received a Japan Foundation fellowship, traveled to Tokyo and met Kengo Kuma, with whom he was to work closely. From 2003 to 2018 she taught at Columbia, which sponsored two of her books. She talks about her life around the world: “I lived through 9/11, I saw with my own eyes one of the towers fall, I saw Notre-Dame in Paris on fire. I can’t stand violence, so I never go near dangerous areas. I grew up between two wars, the one of 6 days, when my parents ran me to shelters for 10 months, and then Istanbul in the summer of 1974, when we had a blackout every night and heard sirens. I have terrible instincts and can sense when there is great danger.
When Greece went into crisis, I didn’t leave Greek architects, but when I realised in 2013 that there was a total deadlock – in New York, Fifth Avenue and Madison were deserted – I decided to do a PhD. I was accepted by Católica in Santiago, Chile, but at the last minute I decided to go to Melbourne, to RMIT, and work with the great architect Martin Hook for two reasons: one that he was one of the best PhDs in the world (research by practice with tremendous decades of experience) and two because their architecture is very forward thinking. For three years I was back and forth teaching in Manhattan and Chile and working in Tokyo. I was flowing, I was 55 pounds. My study was published as “Landscape into architecture: the inversion of content and context in architectural photography”.
I ask Erieta what she thinks she has gained from this tour of the planet. “It gives me so much. You see how united people are, that in difficult times people, even those who we think are too cold as a people, support each other. In Australia, where I felt terribly alone, I couldn’t connect with people, I was initially completely dismissive of them, until I became very much connected with a family in Sydney, who turned out to be the most human of anyone I had ever met. I had to drop the resistance. It’s not just cold professional relationships, they can stand by you. There’s a humanity that I don’t see here anymore. If you ask me where I learned the most about my life, I’ll tell you New York, Columbia, and Japan, from its society. It’s been an ongoing life journey. If I stop traveling, I’m in trouble.”
– Where has he encountered the most interesting architecture in recent years?
“Apart from Australia, I’m overwhelmed by Chile. They may not have had money, but they had great ideas. Mathias Klotz managed in the 1990s to make very simple buildings overlooking the Pacific, from cottages on the ocean to simple villas, with very low budgets. He managed to make Chile very well known thanks to its modern architecture and created a whole generation of architects. Chileans are restless spirits, they don’t sit around, they go everywhere. I was there last August. I prefer it because it’s winter then and it’s nice light, like in Brazil – summer in these countries is terribly humid and too much rain. And I only go to Japan in winter. I chase the light.”
– Is it true or a myth what they say about the Greek light?
“Myth. I have now lost my connection with Athens because as a photographer I was formed in different parts of Greece, not in Athens. By the way, I have to say that Greek architecture has entered a different phase. The differences between the pre-crisis and post-crisis period are obvious. Right now architecture in Greece is commercial. But Delos is unique. I never expected that that first innocent and unsuspecting journey would turn into a life’s work. Of course, it is not only Delos but also the Aegean Sea. From a young age I wanted to work on Cycladic Culture, prehistoric settlements in relation to the landscape and the Aegean. I was overwhelmed, but Delos came and embraced me. My next Drawing: is the wider Aegean, the seascapes. As for the light, having spent different seasons in Delos, I can say it is overwhelming. The light changes dramatically between September, October and December. I’ve photographed Delos from an inflatable, from a plane, I’ve walked all over it. And yet, I think I’m still at the beginning.”
