Researchers of the Gennadius

Benjamin Anderson

Cornell University

Louis Francois-Cassas’s Voyage Pittoresque de la Syrie (Paris) Vol. 2, Plate 56.  

The Temple of Venus in Baalbek (present-day Lebanon) is distinguished by its unusual circular ground-plan. When the British scholar Robert Wood visited in 1751, he noted that “the lower or Ionic story is at present converted into a Greek church, and separated from the higher or Corinthian story for that purpose.” In his 1758 publication of the site, Wood included a view of this temple-church, and drew attention both to the modern wall that rendered it suitable for worship and to the surrounding houses. Joannes Gennadius owned the 1827 reprint of this volume. 

By contrast, the view published by the French artist Louis-Francois Cassas based on his visit of 1785 shows neither the wall nor the houses, and Cassas does not mention the church. Had this house of worship been abandoned in the intervening 30 years, or did Cassas alter its appearance to suit his Romantic aesthetic? In either case, the presence of both Wood’s and Cassas’s volumes in the collection of Joannes Gennadius is a testament to his capacious conception of Hellenism, which extended well beyond the Aegean and embraced the Romantic alongside the Classical. 

Fiona Antonelaki

Postdoctoral Researcher, National and Kapodistrian University of Athens          

In my research, for more than a decade, on the Modern Greek literary archives of the ASCSA, housed at the Gennadius Library, I have been particularly interested in the audio files of these collections: vinyl records, magnetic tapes, cassettes. Among the Constantine Tsatsos Papers, I am delighted to have come across an undated vinyl record made by Tsatsos’s brother-in-law, Angelos Seferiadis (1905-1950), younger brother of Ioanna Tsatsou (1904-2000) and the celebrated poet George Seferis (1900-1971). In 1967 Seferis brought together and published the remaining poems of his beloved brother Angelos under the title Sēma. Angelos’s recording presented here contains his reading of the poems “Messolonghitiko” and “Spring rain” by Miltiadis Malakasis (1869-1943) as well as the prose text “The Little Drummer Boy” (by an unidentified author), which had been included in a Greek schoolbook printed in 1947.  

Our recording provides rare empirical evidence for the study of prosody and performance style, and confirms that Malakasis’ poems enjoyed popularity as recitation pieces. More importantly, it relates a fascinating story from the early Cold War period: when he left Greece for the United States after WWII, Angelos Seferiadis struggled to secure a job in New York as he had been accused of being a communist. Finally, that brilliant man was hired as a Greek language instructor at the U.S. Army Language School in Monterey, California, where he worked until his untimely death in 1950. This recording takes us to the final years of his migrant life: apparently, it was used as instruction material to accompany Angelos’s classes. Preliminary research has revealed that the Army Language School actually housed a recording studio with “state-of-the-art phonographic record-making equipment.”   

As the principal investigator of the project “Reading Poetry Aloud: Education, Culture and the Media in Greece, 1930-1960”, funded by the Hellenic Foundation for Research and Innovation and hosted at Laboratory of Modern Greek Philology at the University of Athens, I look forward to collaborating further with the Archives of the ASCSA. I thus hope to contribute to the digitization, critical investigation and dissemination of rare audio archives that enable us to reconstruct ephemeral histories of reading and sound cultures of the past.  

Aliki Asvesta

Historian, Travelers Program at the Gennadius Library (1992-2014)        

Joannes Gennadius assembled a unique travel collection that allows us to wander, in our imagination, through the Ottoman Empire, the Greek lands under Venetian rule, and eventually through the territories of the newly formed Greek state. 

A major source for this collection was the library of the English collector, politician, and writer William Beckford (1760–1844). Like many young aristocrats of his time, Beckford embarked on the Grand Tour — the educational journey through Europe, particulalry Italy, designed as both a rite of passage and a way to broaden one’s intellectual horizons. 

For Beckford, travel was never just about seeing the world. His journeys were closely tied to his passion for collecting. He sought out travel books and manuscripts that would enrich his library, many of which would later resonate with the priorities Gennadius pursued in assembling his own collection. 

Among these works, I have chosen one that originally belonged to Beckford before it entered Gennadius’s library. Published by one of Beckford’s tutors, it was intended to educate him and guide his reading, even at a very young age. Remarkably, Beckford had inherited a vast fortune at just ten years old, after his father’s death. 

This particular work holds a special place in the history of travel literature. It contains original antiquarian observations and, above all, geological explorations of the regions it describes. For Beckford, it was a kind of imagined Grand Tour, opening pathways for his future travels while at the same time laying the groundwork for his own collection. That Gennadius later acquired a copy of this same work, one so significant to Beckford, shows the care and discernment he applied in selecting the books that would shape his library. 

Interestingly, Beckford and Gennadius never met. Beckford died in May 1844, just months after Gennadius was born. Yet, once Gennadius settled in England, he was able to explore Beckford’s travel collection. It offered him a guiding thread, a model for enriching his own library, revealing the criteria he followed and the insightful approach he applied in shaping a collection that combined careful scholarship with a sense of exploration. 

Roderick Beaton

Emeritus Koraes Professor, King’s College London & Chairman of the British School at Athens

When the news of the Turks' arrival in Smyrna first broke, George must have believed that the two people he loved most in the world, his mother and his sister, were trapped there. By the time the fires had stopped smouldering in Smyrna, and in Paris the full extent of the destruction could be read in the newspapers, he knew that Despo and Ioanna, at least, were still in Athens and unharmed. He wrote to them there, a letter raw with grief, bewilderment and anger. Twisting and turning through its disjointed phrases is the thought of what must have happened to their relatives.  

There is nothing of the 'poet' about this letter. It is a letter that any young man, whose life had been turned upside-down by such events, might have written to his mother. Touchingly, incongruously even, it plucks the hope of renewed family life, love and the possibility of happiness for those who mean most to him, out of the destruction.  

Monday evening 

Dear mum 

Your first letter came two days ago with the newspapers on the eve of the catastrophe almost. From then events have tumbled out of control, the Turk has entered our Smyrna, burnt it and is massacring us. How can I describe for you the days, the agonies we're suffering here in a foreign land and what an inhospitable foreign land it is. ... Thankfully, you two are now safe. You and Ioanna are the most important thing. Our only terrible anxiety now is our relatives in Smyrna. Dad has cabled you. No reply so far. He went to Le Temps to ask about Uncle Kokos. They don't know anything. We're driven mad. Write to me as soon as you can with details. ... I'm sitting writing to you because I must write to you. I can't gather my thoughts, everything comes to me as though in a dream and then I think of you and your nervous disposition and so sensitive, my poor little mother what kind of a state can she be in? ... Can the human mind find room for such a thing, in the twentieth century, the century of humanity, a city of three hundred thousand people can be made into a graveyard in just four days. Cable me at once: where is Uncle Kokos, Uncle Socrates, Aunt Elli? Where have they ended up – because I can't bring myself to imagine that they didn't get out somehow, write to me what they're thinking about the future. Write to me everything about the state of Greece, hysterical, false Greece that without the least heroism, the least self-sacrifice, without the least protest even, could sacrifice a hundred thousand of her children. ... Angelos has a room next to mine, a clean little room, it's warm and we have our meals together, every lunchtime and evening Dad comes round after we've eaten, and we have coffee the three of us, we think about you and talk. He's wretched too. He's thinking of taking an appartement and sending for the two of you to come and all live together for the time being in Paris. Who knows if all this mightn't even be to the good if we can draw together tightly as a family once again. That's why you shouldn't be sad, if people are together with love and health everything else can be mended. ... If there's the least thing you need, send us a telegram. Take care of Ioanna and tell her to write to me. I kiss you and I kiss her. George.i 

Shortly after this, a telegram arrived at the rue Bréa: sauves seferiades. The whole family had come through safely. 

Harriet Blitzer

Buffalo State University          

From a Sea Captain's pocket in 1750

A fragile 18^th century text, quite small in dimension (ca.18 x 12 cm), and clearly printed on mold-made Venetian paper, appears in a general search for the Aegean environment in the catalogue of the Gennadius Library.  Entitled Λεξικόν Τετράγλωσσον της Ιταλικής, Ρωμαϊκής, Ελληνικής και Λατινικής Γλώσσης, it was published in 1750, in Venice. The four languages are identified as Italiana, Ρωμαϊκή (this is called Greca Volgare in the actual lexicon) Latina, and Greca Literale.

In the front matter is a list of Greek letters with their pronunciation and use in Greek words, and an explanation of Greek numbers, names of months, and days, with alphabetical equivalents in Greek and Latin. These are followed by, in Greek and Latin, the Lord’s Prayer, the Hail Mary, the Nicene Creed, the Magnificat or Canticle of Mary, the Ten Commandments, and other ευχές. Pages 29 – 153 are devoted in alphabetical order to the Λεξικόν Τετράγλωσσον or Vocabolario di Quattrolingue. Page 154 enumerates the Seven Gifts (Isaiah 11:2), and the Fruits of the Holy Spirit (Galatians 5:22-23) in Greek and Italian.

But the last eight pages of this pocketbook-size text are a big surprise. First, there are environmental details, including a three-page list, in Greca Volgare (Ρωμαϊκή) and Italian, the Κατάστιχον των Δένδρων των Καρπερών, or, Lista degli Alberi fruttiferi, comprised of the domesticated fruit-bearing trees found in the Aegean and eastern Mediterranean (for example, η κυδωνιά, or, il cotogno; η σορμπιά, or, il sorbolaro). Two pages record the Κατάστιχον των Δένδρων των ακάρπων, or, Lista degli Alberi infruttuosi, that is, non-fruit-bearing trees (e.g. η δρυς or, la ghianda). There are even entries for wild shrubs, Κατάστιχον των Δενδρακίων or, Lista degli arbuscelli, such as, η σπαρτιά, translated as la ginestra; and, το σχινάρι, or, lo schino. Following these is an exacting description of the parts of trees, such as το κούτζουρον, το κορμάλι, or, il troncone dell’albero, and τα κλαδάκια του δενδρου, or, I ramuscelli dell’albero.

Second, there is a list of the weapons of war, Κατάστιχον των αρμάτων και πρώτα της Φωτιάς, mainly firearms (e.g. ο κομπαράς, or la granatum), and of hand weapons Κατάστιχον των αρμάτων του χεριού, or, Lista dell’armi da mano (e.g. swords, bow and arrow, e.g. το δοξάρι, or, l’arco).  In the last pages of the book is Lista delle Galere, e delli vascelli dell’Armata navale turchesca, con li nomi delli comandanti, a specific list of the galleys and ships of the Ottoman naval armada, with names of both their individual commanders and their watercraft.

The final page contains the principal winds in the Aegean and eastern Mediterranean, Κατάλογος των Κυριωτέρων Ανέμων or, Lista delli Venti Principali, including the Βορέας, Γαρμπής, and Λεβάντες.

For whom was this comprehensive 162-page book printed? Clearly for use by an educated Venetian Christian after the Ottoman-Venetian War of 1714-1718 and before the decline of the Republic of Venice in the late 18^th century. It is quite possible that this guide book was kept in the frock coat pocket of a Venetian sea captain who needed to be able to identify the extant remnants of the Ottoman Naval Armada, to communicate and trade with locals, and to develop a visual familiarity with the regional wild and agricultural environments of the Aegean and eastern Mediterranean.

Catherine Boura

Ambassador & Historian       

ATHANASIOS SOULIOTIS–NIKOLAIDIS (1878–1945) 

With care and foresight worthy of Gennadius himself, Athanasios Souliotis—an officer in the Greek army, known for his behind-the-scenes role in the Macedonian Struggle and for his activity in Constantinople between 1908 and 1912 under the pseudonym Nikolaidis—carefully preserved historical records, documents, letters, and photographs that vividly reflect both his work and his times. His archive was donated by his widow, Sophia Proveleggios-Soulioti, to the Gennadius Library and is now kept in the Archives of the American School of Classical Studies. 

As I was studying Souliotis’s archive, I was unexpectedly struck by a small portrait sketch of him. On the back, in his own handwriting, he had written: “Paris, myself.” 3  The drawing must therefore date from after the Balkan Wars, when Souliotis was in Paris on what would be his final national mission, from October 1913 to August 1914. 

Looking at this modest sketch, my thoughts turned naturally to Joannes Gennadius. Fully aware of the enduring value of archives, he entrusted to the Library not only his own personal papers but also those of his learned father. Among his collections are volumes of albums filled with countless clippings—scrapbooks in which he gathered newspaper articles, photographs, sketches, and cartoons on the major historical issues of his day. These volumes bear witness to the importance he attached to the “image” as a form of documentation—one capable of capturing people and events, and of serving as vital evidence for understanding societies, historical developments, and cultures. How might he have viewed this particular sketch? Where would he have placed it within his carefully ordered collections? 

In contrast to the formal photographs of the period, in which subjects often arranged their posture with deliberate care, sketches tend to reveal something more intimate and human. They bring into sharper focus people’s efforts, emotions, and limitations within the flow of history. Souliotis’s sketch encourages the researcher to look more closely at the many facets of a complex personality—a man who worked passionately to shape a new historical reality for the Hellenism of the Ottoman Empire, only to see his vision ultimately collapse. Within this archive, beyond the man of action, we encounter a restless spirit who felt that, “deep in his soul, he was an artist.”  

Alexandra Burkot

PhD candidate, Brandeis University, Schwarz Music fellow 2023-2024

Levidis' L'iliade manuscript 

Is it silly to say when the first time I laid eyes on the digitized manuscript of Dimitry Levidis’ L’iliade it was love at first sight? I remember excitedly texting my friends about this wonderful discovery I’d made—a mid-century Greek oratorio set to an adaptational text of Homer!—and feeling a little like I was gushing over a new partner. Even before I had applied for the Schwarz Fellowship on Music, I was already picturing the grand finale of this project. An edited manuscript, a new premiere, the discovery of a lost masterpiece—my imagination ran wild, intoxicated by infinite, ambitious opportunity. 
 
I was—and still am—infatuated with this manuscript. Like any relationship, it was not without its difficulties, such as messy handwriting or a lack of external scholarship. These difficulties, however, led to the most marvelous opportunity of the whole project: the opportunity to learn about myself. In many ways, the history of this manuscript is also the history of my family. Levidis lived and worked in Faliro, where my mother had lived as a little girl, and had published this work in 1942, when my grandmother had just been born. Levidis’ L’iliade has not only given me academic and scholastic purpose, but has helped strengthen my connections to my family and my history, for which I am forever grateful.  

Katerina Carpinato

Ca' Foscari University              

My first visit to the Gennadius Library dates back to the autumn of 1986. I wanted to study Dimitrios Zinos's translation of the Batrachomyomachia (Venice 1539) to make a comparison "from Greek to Greek." I was 23 years old and had a classical education. I didn't want to become a "Modern Greek scholar," but simply I tried to understand the reasons for the historical evolution of the Greek language. At that time, it was possible to purchase a facsimile reprint of the Iliad by Nikolaos Loukanis (Venice 1526), in paperback (with a blue cover) or hardback. That (blue) book marked a turning point for me. Those were times when, for reading manuscripts and ancient books "off-site," we relied on expensive and difficult-to-find (and preserve) microfilms. The Internet did not yet exist, and digitization of rare texts was not yet available. The decision to reproduce the book was due to Francis R. Walton, who wanted to make the first translation of the Iliad into a modern language available to the public. Thanks to the sensitivity of the Gennadius Library administrators and their heritage promotion policies, I have learned not only the importance of studying ancient and modern texts but also of valorizing knowledge through the creation of activities, initiatives, and products aimed at a wider audience. 

Maria Christina Chatziioannou

Director of Research, Emerita, Hellenic Research Foundation    

Rereading Ioannis Gennadius personal correspondence 

Ioannis Gennadius is one of the most important figures in the world of Greek diplomacy, combining a multifaceted political education with negotiating skills and British cultural standards. Gennadius entered British life during the heyday of the British Empire. This was also the period when Ioannis Gennadius built his personal social network. The 1860s were a preparatory stage for his acclimatization to England through the circles of Greek diaspora merchants. After 1875, from his position as diplomatic representative of the Greek state, he would penetrate the world of liberal politics in England. From 1902, after his marriage to an Englishwoman, he adopted the cultural behaviors of Edwardian society, which opened up new social and political opportunities for him. Gennadius created a social network through careful management, outside of family and local ties. Ioannis Gennadius managed client/patronage networks that had their roots in traditional forms of power, which continued to function as evidenced in his archive, a personal journey that intersects economic power, political authority, and intellectual inquiry. He embodies the archetype of the social, political, and cultural mediator, and the concept of identity in a state of "in-betweenness." 

Sarah Clark

Eleftheria Daleziou

Historian, Archivist ASCSA   

A Golden Tray, Madame Gennadius, and the launch of «Βασιλεύς Κωνσταντίνος»

Among an array of personal objects belonging to Joannes Gennadius, there is a golden plated tray, stored in a velvet case, which belongs to Florence Gennadius. The commemorative tray with the enameled photograph of the passenger liner “Βασιλεύς Κωνσταντίνος” at the center carries the following inscription: PRESENTED TO HER EXCELLENCY MADAME GENNADIUS ON THE OCCASION OF THE LAUNCH OF «ΒΑΣΙΛΕΥΣ ΚΩΝΣΤΑΝΤΙΝΟΣ» FROM MESSRS CAMMELL LAIRD’S WORKS BIRKENHEAD JUNE 9^TH 1914. 

Madame Gennadius was requested to perform the naming ceremony of the passenger liner. It was the first of two vessels built for the National Steam Navigation Company of Greece which belonged to the Embiricos family. It would be the largest ship registered in the Greek mercantile marine intended for transatlantic trips between Greece and the United States. Indeed, «Βασιλεύς Κωνσταντίνος» carried, in 1915, thousands of Greek reservists living in the USA who sought to travel to Greece to join the mobilization. It was also the vessel which carried, in 1917, Dimitrios Gounaris, Ion Dragoumis and other Greek politicians to exile in Corsica because of the Greek National Schism. «Βασιλεύς Κωνσταντίνος» was requisitioned as a troopship by the French military in 1918.

The commemorative tray is certainly not one of the most impressive, artistic or precious objects of the collection, but it stands as a symbol of Madame Gennadius’s presence and contribution to Joannes Gennadius’s diplomatic service during the fateful years of WWI. Delving into the archival material one can follow the events of the day through newspaper clippings and a series of photographs. Florence Gennadius was not there, however, to break just the bottle of bubbly on the ship’s bows. She kept a mindful, supportive and observant presence during this strenuous period for Gennadius. Her unparalleled philanthropic work for the Greek people stands as proof of this. Various philanthropic organizations in Greece and in London had sought and received her support for their campaigns since the Balkan Wars, during and after the First World War. However, few people, among them Gennadius himself, had commented upon Florence’s contributions. “Madame Gennadius had stood intelligently and faithfully all these years”, commented Dr. Henry Smith Pritchett, president of the Carnegie Foundation on the day of the inauguration of the Gennadius Library in April 1926. She was so much more than the woman behind the man, she was the woman who stood by the man.

Jack Davis

Carl W. Blegen Professor, University of Cincinnati

One treasure of the Gennadius particularly opened my eyes, during my directorate of theASCSA, to the prospects of enriching my knowledge of the landscape of the recent Greekpast through the study of unpublished works. MariaGeorgopoulou in 2011 suggested forvolume 9 of theNew Griffonthat I prepare an essay about Prosper Baccuet’s "THEORIGINAL DRAWINGS FROM THE "EXPÉDITION SCIENTIFIQUE DANS LA MORÉE,”purchased by John Gennadius at auction in Paris in 1905. Gennadius had annotated thecollection:“I have cleaned, inlaid them neatly, but have kept them in the same order. Theyare an invaluable addition to my copy of the Expédition Scientifique. J.G." Gennadius wasparticularly interested in the French military expedition tothe Peloponnese, which wrestedcontrol of the Peloponnese from the Ottomans in the fall of 1828, and in the subsequentarmy of scholars that followed the French forces to Greece. Baccuet, a young cavalryofficer and artist, accompanied the latter. He remained best known for his work in Greece,his landscapes popularized at the Salon in Paris between 1831 and 185l through theexhibition of tableaux inspired by his travels. The unpublished drawings in the Gennadiusthat describe Navarino and its vicinity helped me to understand the landscapes describedby many French officers in their memoirs and by western European travelers during theyears of the Greek revolution. They are among the earliest representations of Messenia andshed light on a reborn Greece.

Dimitris Dimitropoulos

Research Director, Hellenic National Research Foundation         

The words above—almost impossible to understand today—were written by VesafitoAli Pasha in April 1818. She tells him she forgives him for not sending his carriage tofetch her and adds that she is sure that, if God grants him a long life, he will grant herthis favor and many more. It’s a snippet from a strange and unexpected documenttucked among the many varied papers in Ali Pasha’s archive, part of the Ioannis ChotzisCollection at the Gennadius Library.Itisrare to hear a woman’s voice in a world that was almost entirelydominatedby men,and it instantly adds a human, playful touch to a landscape usually painted in the harshcolors of politics, war, money, threats, and the management of local, state, or eveninternational affairs. In this little letter, the personal shines through: a woman we knowalmost nothing about, daring to be sweet, witty, and teasing toward the formidable,hard-nosed Vizier of Ioannina.At the same time, it reminds us of history’s many layers, the little surprises hidden inthe sources, the charm of the insignificant and the unexpected, and how flowers canbloom even in the harshest of soils.

Karen Emmerich

Princeton University, Zoë Sarbanes Pappas Fellow 2025-2026   

A photograph of Ilias Venezis during the filming of Gregory Markopoulos’s adaptation of the novel Γαλήνη [Serenity] (Mytilini,1958). This photograph shows novelist Ilias Venezis on Mytilini in the spring of 1958, among a crowd of extras during the filming of Gregory Markopoulos’s adaptation of Venezis’s1939 novel Γαλήνη [Serenity]. The novel—which treats the arrival of refugees from Asia Minor to the then-barren land of Anavyssos on the Attic coast in 1923. The novel itself was popular at the time of its initial publication: it sold out its first printing within months and quickly went through several editions, even during the devastating period of the Axis Occupation. Between the 1950s through 70s,Serenity was adapted several times for theater, television,and film—including by experimental Greek American director Markopoulos.The Venezis Archive has a wealth of materials regarding Markopoulos’s film: a copy of thescript, photographs, press coverage, and copious correspondence. At some point during the years-long editing process, Venezis seems to have lost confidence in Markopoulos as its director, and while the film was completed, it was never released; indeed, Venezis called it an athliotita, or “wretched thing.” Regardless, this photograph drew my attention because of the intimacy with which it shows Venezis seeming to engage with the (re)negotiation of history that this adaptation of his novel entails..

Elizabeth Fowden

University of Cambridge, M. Alison Frantz Fellow 1996-1997       

1 MS of Benizelos’s History

1a facsimile of first page of the mufti’s History of the City of Sages ms now in Topkapı Palace Library

‘I have rarely felt my heart beating more vigorously or joyfully’. In December 1927, Gennadios glanced over one of the innumerable auction catalogues that arrived at his London address. This time it was Hodgson & Son’s auction of mainly well-known travelogues from the library of the geologist and writer, John Hawkins (1758-1841). Before Gennadios tossed it in the waste paper basket, his eye alighted on the name ‘Beninzelo’ in Lot 457. ‘As if by some miracle’ he had discovered the autograph manuscript of the History of Athens by his great-grandfather Ioannis Benizelos (d.1807), scion of one of Athens’ leading families.

The manuscript’s discovery was a personal and scholarly triumph for Gennadius since Benizelos’s History is the earliest known account of Athens, from antiquity to the present, by an Athenian with local knowledge. We know today that Benizelos was not the first local writer to compose a history of Athens based on ancient sources as well as autopsy. That honour goes to the unnamed local Muslim mufti who lived in Athens two generations before Benizelos and wrote in Ottoman a History of the City of Sages, also based on ancient sources, local legend and eye-witness reports. The Ottoman History survives in the Topkapı Palace Library, in a single manuscript, like Benizelos’s History. Perhaps the greatest divergence between the two is that what inspired the Athenian mufti was to explain the ancient buildings, as well as the name ‘City of Sages’ by which Athens was known in the Islamic world. By contrast, in his History Benizelos is not focused on monuments and antiquities, except when they are being stolen by foreigners.

2 Ο Λόρδος Ελγιν και οι προ αυτού ανά την Ελλάδα και τας Αθήνας ιδίως αρχαιολογήσαντες επιδρομείς 1440 - 1837: ιστορική και αρχαιολογική πραγματεία / υπό Ιωάννου Γενναδίου. F 530.1

[NOTE: This volume contains Gennadius’s bound, corrected proofs of his Ο Λόρδος Ελγιν και οι προ αυτού ανά την Ελλάδα και τας Αθήνας ιδίως αρχαιολογήσαντες επιδρομείς 1440 – 1837. The opening quotation in Label 1 comes from his Prologue of this book. You can open the book to ΜΕΡΟΣ ΟΓΔΟΟΝ ΕΛΛΗΝΩΝ ΦΡΟΝΤΙΔΕΣ (unnumbered, between 133 and 135).]

Gennadius gathered evidence about how antiquities were interpreted and valued by local communities and Europeans either resident in or visiting Greece. He not only collected, but also produced synthetic analyses based on his collection. In 1930, the Archaeological Society at Athens published Gennadios’s assessment of foreign intervention in archaeology of Greece: Lord Elgin and the archaeologizing raiders who came before him throughout Greece, and especially in Athens, 1440–1837. Gennadios devotes the first half to Elgin, whose exploits were first recorded and deplored by a local observer in Benizelos’s History of Athens. In the second half, starting with ‘Part Eight: Greek Concerns’, Gennadios as scholar-patriot confronts head-on the frequent accusation by foreign travellers that contemporary Greeks had no interest in their past and the antiquities amidst which they lived.

Many of Gennadius’s questions foreshadow current scholarship, which aims to recover neglected views by groups who did not record their interpretations in writing, were misinterpreted by those who observed and recorded their interactions with antiquities, or wrote in Ottoman Turkish. Muslim views of Greek antiquities is a flourishing area of contemporary research that Ioannes Gennadios and his contemporaries could not have imagined. Proof of this is the refusal of the Philomuse Society (founded in 1813) to allow Muslims as members – a refusal condemned by a co-founder of their library, William Gell, whose writings and drawings Gennadius avidly collected. We can only imagine with what puzzlement Ioannes Gennadius might have greeted the appearance of the Ottoman Turkish History of the City of Sages in a book auction catalogue. His breadth of vision would have impelled him to acquire it for future generations to explore. Completely in character with Gennadius’s capacious intellectual and patriotic horizons is the expansion of the Gennadius collection to embrace Ottoman Studies, one of the strongest areas of growth in the library’s research and international reputation.

Elizabeth Fraser

University of South Florida   

Of the many fine costume books in the Gennadius Library, the Recueil de cent estampes représentant différentes nations du Levant (Paris, 1714) is among the most influential. Based on paintings commissioned by French ambassador Charles de Ferriol in Istanbul, the folio-sized volume contains 102 sumptuous costume plates depicting the peoples of the Ottoman court, Istanbul, and the broader empire. The Recueil Ferriol, as it is known, was a popular work and its depictions of Ottoman society were extensively mined by European artists, book illustrators, and artisans for well over a century after its publication. It appeared in several editions and languages. 

Like other costume books about the Ottoman Empire, the Recueil Ferriol features Greeks of Anatolia and the Aegean Islands, another reason for this significant book to have found a place in the Gennadius Library. In fact, the library holds three copies: one donated in 1981 and the other two bound into a single volume, part of Joannes Gennadius’s own collection. “A unique copy” -- as Gennadius states in a pencil inscription inside -- the volume intersplices black and white engravings with hand-colored ones. This compare-and-contrast arrangement, appealing to the attentive bibliophile, recalls Gennadius’s own system of visual juxtapositions in his fascinating scrapbooks. 

Maria Georgopoulou

Hunter Lewis Fellow at the Gennadius Library 1998

“Piantta della Città di Candia, attacata dalle Armi Ottomane e diffesa dalla S(erenissim)a R(epubbli)ca di Ven(ezi)a, sotto il commando dell’ Ecc(ellentissi)mo Sig(no)r Procu(rato)r e Cap(ita)n Gen(era)ll Fran(ces)co More(si)ni.” 

Exquisite hand-drawn bird’s eye view of the siege of Candia (Herakleion) by the Ottomans in 1669. It was bought in auction in 2022 thanks to the generosity of the Overseers of the Gennadeion, and complements the unique collection of maps of the island of Crete owned by the Library, a collection that became the backbone of my dissertation.  

The 25-year-long siege of Candia by the Ottomans (1645-1669), otherwise known as the Cretan War, was a catalyst to produce maps meant to solicit European support to defend the cause of Venetian Crete as a last bastion of Christianity in the Eastern Mediterranean. Gennadius was able to acquire several remarkable maps from the period—rare primary witnesses to the history of Venetian Crete. 

Like most of the maps, this drawing displays the attacking forces with their siege machines and the trajectories of the artillery towards the walls. Dated to July 1669, two months before the surrender of the city, this plan is oriented to the south, focuses on the fortifications of the island’s capital city, Candia, and enumerates the ships of the defenders as well as the encampment of the Ottoman forces on the horizon next to Mount Ida), the so-called ‘Candia nova.’ In the lower section of the map, we see the ships of the Christian fleet; it is worth noting that the flagship of the French squadron La Thérèse is shown engulfed in flames, an event that occurred on July 24, 1669. In addition, the bastion of Sant’ Andrea (bottom right) is depicted destroyed, an event that occurred during the last phase of the siege. 

The key to the map, and a comprehensive list of the participants, both Venetian and Ottoman, appears within the curtained title cartouche upper right, held by two cherubim. The most illustrious name amongst them is the commander-in-chief of the Venetian forces, Francesco Morosini (1618–1694), who was sent to relieve the besieged island of Crete in 1667. Within two years the city of Candia had surrendered to the Ottomans and Morosini had to stand trial for treason and cowardice but was acquitted, and eventually was elected doge of Venice in 1688. This map shows the last significant effort by Morosini to win back the island. 

Anastasia Yangaki

Institute of Historical Research, National Hellenic Research Foundation            

I recall numerous occasions when the Gennadius Library has significantly supported my research through its acquisitions. It is often the only place in Greece where I can find books that not only assist but also broaden the scope of my studies. 

As we live in a digital age, I have noticed that younger generations (particularly Generation Z and Alpha) increasingly rely on online information - often found in digital encyclopedias - that is not always reliable or detailed. In this context, the Gennadius Library stands out as a true ark for the preservation and promotion of accumulated knowledge. Therefore, I would like to focus on a category of printed reference works that are increasingly rare today, yet have long been safeguarded by the Library: encyclopedias. These works deserve renewed attention, both for the sake of those of us who remember their value and for younger audiences who may not be familiar with them. 

But which one should I highlight first? The Θρησκευτικὴ καὶ Ἠθικὴ Ἐγκυκλοπαιδεία? The Πάπυρος – Λαρούς. Γενικὴ Παγκόσμιος Ἐγκυκλοπαιδεία? The Μεγάλη Ἑλληνικὴ Ἐγκυκλοπαίδεια, the Θρησκευτικὴ καὶ Χριστιανικὴ Ἐγκυκλοπαιδεία, the Ὑδρία. Ἑλληνικὴ καὶ Παγκόσμια Μεγάλη Γενικὴ Ἐγκυκλοπαιδεία? Should I perhaps mention La Grande Encyclopédie. Inventaire raisonné des sciences, des lettres et des arts, or the monumental Iconographie chrétienne. Histoire de Dieu by M. Didron (Paris, 1844), part of Johannes Gennadius' original collection and available at the Library? This latter work, I believe, has supported many early-career researchers in Byzantine and medieval art, and continues to do so. In the realm of Byzantine studies, special mention must also be made of the more recent Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium (3 vols., New York–Oxford, 1991), which shares a similar scope and scholarly approach. 

All of these encyclopedias contain a wealth of rigorously documented knowledge, compiled by hundreds of researchers. They often provide authoritative answers to questions that remain underexplored, even today. Many of the entries in these encyclopedias are the product of long-term, meticulous research. Created in a pre-digital era, they reflect the immense effort of individuals who consulted diverse sources and distilled their findings - usually succinctly, due to the format - into texts that are still of great value. These encyclopedias cover hundreds of topics, both specific and broad, offering concise yet authoritative insights. 

Georgia Gkotsi

University of Patras

Among its rare and imposing volumes, small treasures lie hidden in Ioannes Gennadius' personal collection: books humble in their binding and the quality of paper—yet precious for the history of cultural mediations. Such are the volumes of translations from Greek literature by the Victorian author Elizabeth Mayhew Edmonds, many of them accompanied by dedications or dedicatory letters to the esteemed Greek diplomat, who with meticulous care pasted these letters inside these books along with related press publications. Edmonds' dated and signed handwritten dedications and letters, though they constitute private expressions of tribute to Gennadius, carry the awareness of their public function, intended as they are for a recipient of high political standing, well known for his collecting activity. 

These small books establish a distinctive archival source that captures the transnational, social movement of books as symbols of respect, gratitude, and cultural friendship. At the same time, they function as multilayered evidence—repositories of reading habits, translation strategies, gendered relationships, and intercultural connections. Observing how the traces of interpersonal relationships are inscribed upon their material bodies—the setting of Edmonds's offerings, their careful preservation by Gennadius, as well as the underlining and interventions that bear witness to the active dialogue between donor and recipient—today's researcher can reconstruct part of a dynamic and multifaceted process: the introduction of modern Greek culture to the middle-class English-speaking public, the negotiation of its cultural value through translation choices, and the active effort to shape an international literary network that transcends national boundaries. 

Stavros Grimanis

Head of the Historical & Palaeographical Archives, National Bank Cultural Foundation, Demos Fellow 2017-2022      

’Εἰς τοὺς αχλδ [sic] Κυρίλλου πατριάρχου Κωνσταντινουπόλεως κατηνέχθι το μοναστήριον εἰς μέγα χρέος καὶ ἤτουν ἡγούμενος Ἰωννίκιος. Ἐπίρε σινοδια καὶ ἐποίησεν 

εἰς τὴν πόλιν καὶ του ἐδόθη απο τον πατριάρχην η παρουσα ἀπανταχουσα.* 

The 1633 encyclical (apantachousa) of Patriarch Cyril Loucaris survives in excellent condition, written on parchment in a patriarchal chancellery hand and bearing both the patriarch’s signature and the validation of the Venetian bailo, Pietro Foscarini. Such documents were often issued to solicit financial support for monasteries, churches, patriarchates, or individuals, and while formulaic in language, they offer rich glimpses into real lives, communities, and everyday challenges. 

This encyclical concerns Abbot Ioannikios of the Monastery of Dousikos in Thessaly, compelled to seek funds outside his monastery. Refounded in the mid-sixteenth century by Bessarion II of Larissa, Dousikos had become a vital spiritual, social, and cultural center, renowned for its manuscript collection, active scriptorium, and meaningful contributions to local society. Yet, only eighty years after its refoundation, the monastery was already struggling financially. This document reveals the strong sense of Greek-Orthodox solidarity nurtured by shared religious and communal bonds. 

The encyclical targeted Venetian territories, explaining the bailo’s formal validation, and reflects Loucaris’s close connections with Venice—during complex diplomatic circumstances that eventually led to his death—, which may have shaped its issuance.  

Far from being mere museum artifacts, documents like this are living historical voices. Preserved today in collections such as the Gennadius Library, they act as time capsules, offering a vivid and human glimpse into the Greek-speaking world during a pivotal and often turbulent era. 

*brief later note on the back of the document.

Philippos Iliou

Historian, Creator of the Bibliology Workshop

An EPON Member at the Gennadius Library

Historian Philippos Iliou (1931–2004) came of age during the turbulent years of the Occupation and the Greek Civil War—an era that profoundly shaped both his political convictions and his intellectual path. His passion for history emerged early and was inseparable from his political engagement. As a student at the American College, his prize-winning essay on Adamantios Korais in 1949 signaled a remarkable talent—one soon met with expulsion, due to his beliefs.

Self-taught, like many of his contemporaries, he later found refuge in the Gennadius Library. His mentor in the illegal EPON organization (United Panhellenic Organization of Youth), Kostas Filinis, recalled his surprise when he realized that, in between clandestine meetings, Philippos Iliou spent his days in that library. Ekaterini Koumarianou, on the other hand, remembered the “jealous astonishment” of the historical-philological community when the result of that work was published.

It was the first publication of the twenty-two-year-old Philippos Iliou, From the Correspondence of Korais: Unpublished and Forgotten Letters, which was issued as a standalone volume with the support of the Gennadius Library’s administration in June 1953, while its author was on his way to Makronisos to serve a twenty-month term in isolation.

Even in this early debut, the hallmarks of Iliou’s scholarship are unmistakable: rigorous documentation, critical insight, and intellectual depth. We get a first glimpse the historian who would go on to transform Korais studies and leave a lasting imprint on modern Greek historiography.

Popi Polemi, Head of Bibliology Workshop “Philippos Iliou”

Stephanos Kaklamanis

National & Kapodistrian University of Athens

I wonder if there is any other poem in our literature that with such art and completeness has enclosed within it the pulse of the place and the time of its place and has expressed the greatness of a people in their struggle for freedom and progress like “Erotokritos”. As a printed book, a true encolpion, they made of  it the gospel of their soul, their breath and their inspiration and they traveled with its verses through time, having it as their companion and advisor on the many paths of heart and life. Erotokritos was born in Crete during the Renaissance, with its poet rendering with his words and sensibility even the most subtle nuances of the life of a society that was at its best. The 1713 edition, the first of a long series of reprints that by 1915 exceeded 55, marks the path of Erotokritos towards world and  eternity thanks to its unparalleled impact on a people who, fascinated by the simple style of their poet, made it their own to listen to and read, song and refrain, spectacle and absolute expression of the beautiful and the true. I too have been traveling with Erotokritos for nearly half a century, and with the same enthusiasm and emotion, ever since I held in my hands this copy of the Gennadius Library, the oldest and, until recently, the only one of the first edition of the work.

Panita Karamanea

National Technical University of Athens. Schwarz Urban Architecture Fellow 2022-2023        

For the 100 Years Exhibition of the Gennadius Library, the Stademann’s Panorama engraving of the Plain of Attica is proposed, held in the collection. The Panorama captures the timeless and symbolic landscape of Attica—long regarded as a place of cultural “origin” for Western civilization. This 19th-century image reflects how artists and scholars of the Grand Tour period saw Greece: not just as a travel destination, but as a sacred ground of antiquity, philosophy, and democracy. In that time work, the sweeping plains, distant mountains, and soft light evoke a sense of timelessness—revealing a landscape that inspired awe in ancient philosophers and modern travellers alike. Stademann’s romantic depiction preserves a vision of Attica before the modern city’s expansion, evoking the idealized landscapes sought by early European travellers, and it reflects the romantic fascination with ancient Greece during his time, which parallels the spirit of early classical studies and exploration. His work aligns with the scholarly and artistic impulses that led to the founding of institutions like the Gennadius Library, a space dedicated to study, explore, preserve, and celebrate the cultural legacy of Greece. The engraving serves both as a historical document and as a visual echo of the values that shaped classical scholarship in the 19th century. By choosing this piece, I aim to highlight how artistic representations have contributed to our visual and emotional understanding of the classical world, long before photography and modern excavation methods, a fact that has also influenced my personal research and work on understanding the landscape of Attica. By including it in the exhibition, I wish firstly to honour the intertwined traditions of artistic representation, archaeological inquiry, and the enduring power of Attica as a symbolic and intellectual homeland of the West and secondly to highlight the rich, unique and important collection of the Gennadius Library.

Alexandra Koumpouli

Postdoctoral Researcher, University of Ioannina. Schwarz Urban Architecture Fellow 2025-2026     

During my Schwarz Fellowship at the Gennadius Library, I had the opportunity to explore part of the collection of Edward Lear related to Thesprotia, Epirus. Encountering this material was unexpectedly moving. More than a decade earlier, in 2014, I had visited an exhibition at the Archaeological Museum of Igoumenitsa that presented Lear’s views of the region. At the time, I had just begun to develop my research interest in the architecture of Thesprotia during the late Ottoman period. Lear’s drawings—sensitive to both landscape and built forms—offered a rare visual testimony of places, towers, houses, and settlements that have since disappeared or dramatically changed. 

Among these works was a drawing connected to the town of Filiates, my birthplace. Lear had passed through the area only briefly during his travels, yet his image captured elements of a landscape and built environment that would later become central to my academic path. 

Years later, standing in the Gennadius Library and encountering these materials within its collections, I felt a profound sense of continuity. The drawing seemed to mark the beginning of my own intellectual journey. It reminded me of the enduring power of place—and of the curiosity that first led me to explore the architectural and historical landscapes of my region. 

Natasha Lemos

Visiting Research Fellow, King's College London  

Included in this volume is one of the earliest printed examples of intercultural encounters between Ottomans and Greeks and the very first example of Turkish written in the Greek alphabet, later known as Karamanlidika writing. The Turkish text is a translation by Ahmet, the Kadi of Verria, of the “complete truth” of the Christian faith composed by Patriarch Gennadios Scholarios for Mehmet the Conqueror and accompanies the original Greek. It is part of the first printed testimony we have of the encounter between the Conqueror and the Patriarch in the Pammakaristos Monastery in Constantinople. Although published over a century later it does feel like living history. Another very important feature of the book is the inclusion of texts which show the earliest signs of European scholars’ interest in the history of modern Greece and in the modern Greek language. Its presence in the Gennadius Library testifies yet again to the range of Ioannis Gennadius’s collecting interests at a time when Ottoman Greece was of little interest to most people.

Alexis Malliaris

Assistant Archivist, ASCSA  

The Avvisi are reports on the Venetian – Ottoman conflicts. These are short – page pamphlets, a precursor to newspapers, initially handwritten and then printed. With wide circulation in Europe, especially during the 16th and 17th centuries, they were the main source of information for the European world about events of wonder, war, trade, diplomacy, etc. Venice par excellence, as well as other cities in Italy were the main centers of concentration and dissemination of news from the Venetian and Ottoman areas of the Greek East. Subsequently, cities in France, England, Germany, the Iberian Peninsula and the Netherlands were also centers of these ephemeral informative publications, which functioned as the first shapers of European public opinion in modern times. This specific publication in Italian was printed in Venice by the well – known printer of the time, Antonio Pinelli, in 1687. It broadcasts the Venetian occupation of the city of Athens by the troops of the commander – in – chief Francesco Morosini and records the Venetian bombardment of the Ottoman arsenal, namely the Parthenon, with the devastating consequences for the famous ancient temple. On the title page there is an emphatic depiction of Venice, with a very clear political connotation, seated on the lion of St. Mark, brandishing a sword in her right hand, a symbol of war, and in her left, the yoke of justice. 

Metaxia Markaki

University of Thessaly. Schwarz Urban Architecture Fellow 2024-2025

A central discovery during my time at the Gennadius Library was the personal archive of Konstantinos D. Karavidas – a seminal yet underexplored figure in the study of 20th-century rural Greece. To my surprise, the archive turned out to be exceptionally large and rich, comprising over 150 boxes filled with handwritten notes, sketches, correspondence, literary drafts, as well as official state documents and reports. What began as an intention to consult specific materials evolved into a more systematic effort: over the course of the year, I began carefully working through the archive box by box. This methodical engagement revealed a depth and breadth that far exceeded my expectations and opened up new avenues for inquiry.

In Karavidas’s writings, I have been drawn by the compelling figure of the Asto-chorikos – a hybrid city-village dweller who inhabits both urban and peripheral worlds. This figure challenges the dominant narrative of the periphery as abandoned or empty, instead embodying care, agency, and a right to dwell in both spaces. Drawing on Karavidas’s literary and political texts, as well as the intellectual contributions of his wife, Toula, and daughter, Zoe Karavida, my archival research has aimed to explore an alternative epistemology – one potentially rooted in feminist and transepistemological dimensions. These materials, in dialogue with oral histories and my fieldwork from Arcadia and Mount Mainalon, have helped me unearth marginalized yet visionary practices that point toward new socio-ecological imaginaries. From this peripheral landscape, emerges not only a critique of extractive urbanization but also radical alternatives for participation, communing, and ecological cohabitation. In response to the exceptional richness and sensory qualities of the Karavidas archive, I developed an experimental, autoethnographic method to document my engagement with the materials. Struck by the tactile and affective dimensions of the handwritten notes, sketches, and documents, I began filming my interactions.

This approach not only served as a personal research memo but also sought to capture the often-invisible processes of archival discovery – the textures, gestures, and sensory impressions that shape interpretation. By foregrounding the materiality of the archive, this method aimed to highlight its depth and significance while opening possibilities for new forms of scholarly expression, such as a video essay. This work-in-progress serves both as a methodological innovation and a reflection on the embodied nature of archival research.

Giorgos Mavrogordatos

Former Professor of Political Science, National and Kapodistrian University of Athens              

Although it constitutes the obvious and indeed inescapable foundation of Greek-Turkish relations, few Greek commentators and presumed experts today appear to have actually read the Treaty of Lausanne (1923) and the attached Convention concerning the exchange of Greek and Turkish populations. Even fewer appear to have read the records of the actual proceedings of the Conference which produced these international agreements. When prompted, some do not even know where to find them!

One can of course find them in the Gennadius Library, as I did. The Library holds not only the official French publication, but also its British equivalent, and even a collection of British documents on the Lausanne Conference published in Istanbul by the Bogasiçi University.

Alper Metin

Cotsen Traveling Fellow 2024-2025

Giovanni Battista Muazzo’s Cronico is more than a genealogical repertory; it is a vivid testimony to the Venetian presence in the Eastern Mediterranean. Carefully charting the trajectories of patrician families in Crete - whether through colonial duty, military service, or mercantile enterprise- it traces their fortunes up to the island’s Ottoman conquest. 

During my tenure at the Gennadius Library as a Cotsen Travel Fellow in 2025, I had the privilege of examining this manuscript in depth. Its value to my research is profound: it sheds light on the Venetian diaspora in the Aegean and its intricate entanglements with Ottoman realities in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. By cross-referencing surnames mentioned by Muazzo with Catholic parish records from major Ottoman centers - such as Istanbul, Izmir, Chios, Lesbos, and Tinos - we can follow how some of these families forged new roots in diverse Ottoman urban and insular settings. They sustained their identities while adapting to shifting political and confessional landscapes. Through Muazzo’s lens, patterns of kinship, alliance, and mobility emerge that shaped not only Venetian society but also the cultural and architectural fabric of the wider Mediterranean. In anticipation of the Library’s centenary, Cronico stands as a shining example of the richness of its collections and their enduring role in advancing the study of interconnected Mediterranean worlds. I look forward to presenting these findings in my forthcoming publications. 

Lynda Mulvin

University College Dublin

Among the treasures of the Gennadius Library is a copy of The Arabian Antiquities of Spain (1815) by James Cavanah-Murphy architect (1760-1814). Recently highlighted by Librarian, Leonora Navari, this is an architectural gem of monuments of al-Andalus, Southern Spain from around 1800. Cavanah-Murphy created a record of the Great Mosque, Cordoba, Royal Palace of the Alhambra, and Royal Villa of the Generalife, Granada in a systematic building survey of measured drawings: plans, elevations, sections and vistas. The Gennadius volume contains extra illustrations which demonstrate his methodology in seeking sources of Medieval architecture to introduce new modes of expression for contemporary architects and practitioners. Cavanah-Murphy’s preliminary drawings gathered in this unique copy range from pocket sketches with instructions for engravers, topographical drawings, and spectacular hand-tinted colour drawings, such as the extra-illustration Plate XXXII, which depicted an alcove at the Alhambra. The finished plans, sections and elevations of the monuments were translated into prints as he worked in collaboration with artists and engravers towards the final publication. His skill is clear, as he laid out the blocks of holistic survey, notable is his awareness of drawing as a lens in architecture, as these combined resources reveal cultural characteristics in this exceptional architectural appraisal.

Emily Neumeier

Temple University       

I first saw this image at the Gennadius Library when looking through the sketchbooks of the British traveler William Haygarth. I was eager to see these drawings for my Ph.D. dissertation on the architectural patronage of Ali Pasha, because they offered a first-person look at the governor’s realm in Ioannina, which Haygarth had visited in 1810-1811. When I came upon this specific page in Haygarth’s sketchbook, I became very excited because it was the first image I had seen of Ali Pasha in his palace that was created by someone who had actually met the governor. Before then, I had seen lots of other images of Ali Pasha in European prints, but those were all done by artists who had never been to Greece. What struck me as a big difference between those images and the sketch by Haygarth is how Ali Pasha is surrounded by all the members of his court. It’s a busy scene—in one corner two men are being served coffee (one wearing the attire of a Christian mountain warrior and the other wearing the turban and robes of a Muslim), and on the other side of the room stands Ali Pasha’s polyglot translator from Corfu and a scribe leaning over to write up the buyurdu that would allow Haygarth to travel through Ottoman lands. Ultimately, this image reflects the cosmopolitan nature of Ali Pasha’s court as a true meeting point between Europe and the Ottoman Empire, between East and West, between Christians and Muslims—and sitting at the center of it all we find Ali Pasha. 

Nikos Nikolaidis

Researcher, Centre for Asia Minor Studies. Kathryn and Peter Yatrakis Fellow 2023–2024      

The Stathatos Room entered my life gradually. I first encountered it in an article about the treasures of the Gennadius. When I eventually stepped inside, what struck me was not its grandeur but its intimacy — the sense of entering a space assembled with care, memory, and intention. 
 
In the 1920s, Eleni Stathatos composed this interior from fragments of the Ottoman world: an iconostasis salvaged from a demolished church in Arta, a wooden chest transformed into boiserie, and Iznik tiles acquired in Paris and installed around her fireplace. Born in Istanbul, I sense here something uncannily familiar; the warmth of aged wood, the shimmer of glazed tiles, the presence of icons that lends the room an almost sacred stillness. 
 
As the 2023–2024 Kathryn and Peter Yatrakis Fellow at the Gennadius, I studied another Athenian salon: that of the early nineteenth-century hostess Madame Masson. Her interior, too, was a stage for encounter, where Greek Orthodox elites, European travelers, and Ottoman officials gathered amid plush cushions, vibrant carpets, and gilded objects. Like Masson, Stathatos shaped her interior deliberately, layering objects, materials, geographies, and histories to produce a deeply personal space. Both women transformed the domestic sphere into a site of cultural negotiation. 
 
The Stathatos Room embodies for me the spirit of the Gennadius Library: preservation not as stasis, but as living dialogue—between past and present, scholarship and self. 

Giorgos Noussis

PhD Candidate, National & Kapodistrian University of Athens     

Memory Traces of a Past

A theatre ticket, a library book order form, a menu, a press publication on the Lavrion question, an invitation to dinner, an admission ticket to the Paris International Exhibition, a pamphlet on the Dilessi murders. The above indicative items, together form a personal corpus of sources and at the same time, reconstruct the personal universe of a man who lived from 1844 to 1932: Joannes Gennadius.

In 2024, I had the pleasure to participate in the documentation and digitization project of a part of Joannes Gennadius’ collection, specifically his scrapbooks. The diversity of the material and its distinctiveness—as a result of J. Gennadius’ “strict” selectivity in the arrangement and structure of the documents depicted—are, in my opinion, the first things one notices.

Recalling, as a historian, the process of documenting this material, I find myself thinking—beyond its unquestionable value and uniqueness as a memory imprint of a significant historical figure—about the agent and his work, as subjects of historical research: how might one study the construction of Joannes Gennadius’ memory? How can we re-think aspects of the Greek State’s history through the personal trajectories of individuals?

I believe that a personal collection has two directions: it informs us about the past as well as about the agent itself. In this case, one could see J. Gennadius’ precious collection as a source of information and at the same time, as an attempt to form a narrative about the past; Hence, we could see J. Gennadius, both as a political figure and as a guardian of his own public memory. And that is, to say the least, something fascinating.

Stavros Oikonomidis

Director of the Greek – Albanian Archaeological Project at the Tri – National Zone of the Prespas. Demos Fellow 2022-2026     

The Travel Trails Project – Travel and Explorations in the Eastern Mediterranean, 1500 – 1830

As an archaeologist I have been studying the old European travelers for something more than thirty years, and now I am indexing European travelers’ texts for the Travel Trails Project in the last three. I found this platform to be an ideal research tool for my own studies since it offers the unique possibility to trace back the majority of the travelers’ notes through tags related to particular subjects. Working on the Travel Trails platform one can use subjects and tags as bookmarks, database records and metadata by browsing    among texts full of information of all kinds, for a vast geographical area that concerns the eastern Mediterranean, the Greek area and the Levant. For a period of four centuries, travelers, diplomats, artists, scientists, priests, missionaries, merchants, pirates and other people who happened to cross the Balkans, the Ionian and Aegean Seas, North Africa, Syro - Palestine and Anatolia for different reasons each one, wrote, described, observed and preserved memories of cultures, customs, social behaviors, wars and revolutions, as well as thousands of antiquities, which no longer exist today, or they have been removed from their native lands.

From a collection of almost 500 titles, I have so far searched and discovered, thanks to Travel Trails, valuable information related to my archaeological studies, as well as topics that have opened new horizons in my research. Using the Travel Trails I manage to locate more easily sites, monuments and persons throughout centuries, countries and nations.

Ayşe Ozil

Sabancı University

I first came to the Gennadius Library in the year 2000 and returned to its rich and ever-expanding collections almost every year. As a witness to a quarter of its lifetime, I have found it a true pleasure to delve into its archival collections which include a rare travelogue of a local Greek in southern Asia Minor in the mid 19th century, a series of Greek newspapers from Istanbul at the turn of the 20th century, and the administrative statute of a Greek community in one of the Balkan towns during the Ottoman era, among many other diverse handwritten, typed, drawn or photographic material.  

The Gennadius Library stands as one of the finest examples of the preservation and presentation of the historical material on the Greek communities in the Ottoman Empire. Visionaries of the 1920s recognized the magnitude of the transformative effect of the Greek-Turkish Population Exchange which took place in 1923. They have built a scholarly tradition to preserve the archives of the Greek world out of a crumbling empire. This has proved vital over the years for the writing of the complex history of Ottoman Greeks.  

The Gennadius Library has taken care not simply to offer the sources to the reader, but it has excelled in bringing together scholars to facilitate intellectual exchange towards a critical and balanced history of a difficult topic often wrought with nationalist biases and descriptive constraints. As it held on to the remnants of a past long gone and made them available to research, the Library has also stepped through time with grace and professionalism, adhering to its solid intellectual tradition while meeting the latest technological demands of a new age of librarianship. It is a home to a scholarly safeness.  

Curtis Runnels

Boston University       

Small things may have large consequences.  For me it was an item from the Heinrich Schliemann Papers.  One hundred years after Schiemann’s death there was an exhibit in the Gennadius Library, In Search of the Homeric Heroes: The Development of Prehistoric Archaeology in the Aegean (July, 1990), which came at a time when Schliemann’s reputation was at its lowest ebb, suffering from claims about his mendacity, cheating, theft, and suggestions that finds such as Priam’s Treasure or the Mask of Agamemnon were fakes.  If these accusations were true, doubt would be cast on all his archaeological finds, shaking the foundations of Aegean Prehistory.  Thus I was surprised by what I saw in one of Schliemann’s Mycenae excavation diaries on display.  I saw that it was written in competent English and in a flowing hand.  I had assumed that if he was a “pathological liar” his claims of fluency in languages were untrue.  But here was proof that he didn’t lie about his language ability. Perhaps his archaeological claims were also true?  Had the revisionist picture of Schliemann gone too far?  From that moment I was determined to discover if Schliemann’s archaeology could be trusted and the resulting research helps support a picture of Schliemann’s growing competence as an archaeologist. 

Konstantinos Stephanis

Head of The Efstathios J. Finopoulos Collection, Benaki Museum            

Among the numerous treasures to be found in Johannes Gennadius' scrapbooks is a rare playbill advertising a “New Grand and Impressive Spectacle of the SIEGE of MISSOLONGHI, or the MASSACRE of the GREEKS”. 1 

Only three months after the Missolonghi Exodus -a tragic event in the history of the Greek Revolution that fuelled philhellenic sentiments across Europe and the United States- a new piece by J.H. Amherst was staged at the Royal Amphitheatre (Astley’s) at Westminster Bridge (July 24, 1826).  

The Gennadius playbill gives a plethora of information about this particular “equestrian Melo-dramatic spectacle”, which featured “costly dresses and decorations”, all “founded on late historical events.” The equestrian evolutions, combats, marches and all the stage arrangements were performed by Mr Ducrow, a celebrated circus artist famous for his equestrian performances, especially in Astley’s Amphitheatre.   

The performance included a “Triumphal ballet”, exotic characters such as “Zongoda, a Wandering Armenian Seer or Fortune teller, with a song of incantation”, Lord Byron’s “Greek War Song” 2 addressed to that “heroic people” to rise for their Independence, a “faithfull picture of the horrible famine”, as well as the “heroic resolutions of the Greeks to suffer any extremity, rather than submit to their oppressors”.  

In previous years, different plays were inspired by other events of the Greek Revolution, such as one devoted to the infamous despot of Epirus, “Ali Pacha” (1822), or another one titled “The Revolt of the Greeks or the Maid of Athens” (1824) after Lord Byron’s death at Missolonghi.  

These ephemeral playbills, few of which have survived, are a reminder and a testament of steadfast philhellenism, liberalism and humanitarian sympathy for the horrible atrocities of war. These plays fused real-life events, exoticism, news reportage, admiration for the classical past and Christian values in contrast to Ottoman culture, Islam and subjugation.  

It should not be mistaken that the main purpose of such plays was to create a public spectacle for a mass audience. They entertained and informed the public at the same time, presenting historical events and personages, and familiarising them with faraway lands. The scenery of these spectacles was based on topographical drawings and prints reproduced in publications of travellers who had visited the country, such as Lord Byron, John Cam Hobhouse, Edward Dodwell, et al.  

These mass-oriented entertainments influenced public opinion in the same way as did journals and newspaper articles, prints and pictures which left long-lasting impressions on the minds of audiences and created sympathies towards a just cause: the independence of a nation, with a distinguished classical heritage, from Ottoman rule.  

Edward Trofimov

Constantine and George Macricostas Fellow 2025-2026

I selected the Lexicon of Medieval Greek Demotic Literature 1100-1669 (Λεξικό της μεσαιωνικής ελληνικής δημώδους γραμματείας 1100-1669) by the renowned Greek philologist Emmanuel Kriaras (1906–2014), since it has been an extremely useful tool for my research. I work with middle and late Byzantine religious texts of “popular” origin, namely confessors’ manuals, sermons, and saints’ lives. For these texts, classical dictionaries of Ancient and Patristic Greek often appear to be insufficient, since they do not encompass medieval vocabulary, especially vocabulary of a vernacular character. At this moment, unfortunately, a comprehensive dictionary of Byzantine Greek that encompasses vocabulary from all existing types of sources does not exist. Therefore, Kriaras’ voluminous dictionary is indispensable for Byzantinists coping with texts that were composed for an audience distant from the linguistically archaizing circles of Constantinopolitan elite. Recently, Kriaras’ Lexicon helped me to decode the exact meaning of the term “συστατικόν,” which I found in the title of a short text from a fifteenth-century penitential manuscript preserved at the National Library of Greece. In Modern Greek, the word “συστατικό” means “ingredient.” In Medieval Greek, however, this term could signify a letter of recommendation provided by a bishop to a priest delegated to his new community. The connotation of the text titled “συστατικόν ἱερέως” becomes clear.  

Niki Tsironi

Institute for Historical Research – National Hellenic Research Foundation        

The Gennadeion Library, renowned for its rich collection of manuscripts, rare books, and unique artifacts, provided an intimate and inspiring backdrop for the International Conference on “The Book in Byzantium: Byzantine and Post-Byzantine Bookbinding” held in October 2005. The library’s architectural elegance and serene environment set the perfect tone for scholarly discourse and exploration of Byzantine and Post-Byzantine bookbinding. The curated selection by Vangelio Tzanetatou, and presented to the participants of the conference, not only showcased the artistic beauty of the bindings but also illustrated the evolution of techniques and styles throughout Byzantine history. Each binding told a story, reflecting the cultural, religious, and artistic influences of its time. 

The presentations and discussions during the conference were enriched by the tangible connection to the materials being discussed. Scholars and enthusiasts alike had the rare opportunity to examine these historical artifacts up close, fostering a deeper appreciation for the artistry involved in their creation. The interactions among attendees were lively and insightful, as the unique characteristics of each binding sparked discussions about their significance, preservation, and the broader context of Byzantine literature. 

Dr. Maria Georgopoulou and Dr. Eirini Solomonides played pivotal roles in facilitating these exchanges, guiding participants through the collection with their extensive knowledge and passion for the subject. Their contributions not only highlighted the library's resources but also underscored the importance of collaboration between scholars and institutions in the field of Byzantine studies. 

The reactions of the distinguished speakers, including the late Mgr. Paul Canart, were a testament to the profound impact that such experiences can have. Witnessing their admiration and enthusiasm reinforced the idea that the Gennadeion Library is not merely a repository of books but a vibrant center for intellectual engagement and cultural preservation. 

This event left an indelible mark on all who attended, fostering connections that would extend beyond the conference itself. The unique experience at the Gennadeion Library not only enhanced our understanding of Byzantine bookbinding but also deepened our appreciation for the enduring legacy of Byzantine culture and its influence on the world of literature and art. The memories of that day remain a cherished reminder of the power of knowledge, collaboration, and the beauty of historical artifacts. 

Gonda Van Steen

Koraes Professor, King’s College London   

I knew it would emerge one day, and I expected it emerge from the archives of the Gennadius Library… What? The picture that captures material hardships and make-do attitudes of mid-twentieth-century Greece, amid the fraught transition from Civil War to Cold War state. And there it was, on view in the Loukia Efstratiadi Archive: a picture of a Greek priest in front of a destroyed ikonostasis, but a holy wall rebuilt with cardboard boxes that once responded to local deprivation with the abundance of the free-market economy of the USA. “Salted Creamery Butter,” read some of the boxes, and the imprints or contours of the big cans they once held are still visible in the picture. “Donated by the people of the United States of America,” they go on. “Not to be sold or exchanged”—in case there was any doubt. And, somewhat presumptuously, “Keep under refrigeration.” A picture of hardship and recovery, of church and state intertwined, of humanitarian aid as a new, practical religion—but most of all, of a Greek spirit of resilience. 

I thank the staff of the Gennadius Library who let me photograph the picture and granted me permission to use it in a future publication. 

Maria Vassilaki

Art Historian

The story I will tell is as old as I am. But even older is the Gennadius Library, which this year celebrates 100 years since its founding. On the occasion of this anniversary, I look back on my first visit there, as a student, and on the first book I held in my hands: the Interpretation of the Art of Painting by Dionysius of Fournas. 

It was the years of the Dictatorship and I had just begun my studies at the School of Philosophy of Athens. Many distinguished professors had been removed due to political views and the first classes, in the packed amphitheater on Solonos Street, were disappointing. One day, sitting in the uncomfortable seats of the amphitheater, I met a third-year student who told me that he intended to specialize in Byzantine art and was also taking classes in iconography. Our discussions continued on other occasions. In one of them he mentioned Dionysius of Fournas from Evrytania and his manual, The Interpretation of the Art of Painting. He understood that I had never heard of either the author or his Interpretation before and urged me to look for it at the Gennadion. 

Until then I had only known the Gennadion building from the outside and when I found myself inside, I was impressed. With the help of a willing librarian I located the editions of the Interpretation. The first, from 1845, was in French, by A.-N. Didron, the second, from 1855, was in German, and was followed, in 1900, by the publication in its original text, in Greek, by Athanasios Papadopoulos-Kerameus, in St. Petersburg, at the expense of the Imperial Russian Archaeological Society. Departing from Gennadius, hours later, I now knew that the monk Dionysios had written the Interpretation of the Art of Painting, between the years 1727 – 1733, on Mount Athos, with the help of his student Cyril from Chios. 

Although my final decision to become a historian of Byzantine Art was formed much later, that first contact with the Hermeneutics, at Gennadion, was so decisive that it remains, to this day, a fundamental aid in my research on iconography, the art and technology of religious painting after the Fall of Constantinople. 

Catherine Volmensky

PhD Candidate, University of British Columbia. M. Alison Frantz Fellow, 2025-2026   

Two interior scenes of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre and a partial cityscape of Jerusalem appear in Charles Thompson’s 1752 travel account. As an art historian working on Byzantine and Ottoman-period ecclesiastical gold embroideries, I am interested in what this engraving can tell us about the mobility of forms and intermedial relationships with embroidered scenes of the Lamentation.  

In the Epitaphios worked by Despoineta (1682), exhibited at the Benaki Museum, the embroiderer references the landscape of Christ’s Passion through the domed ciborium and four hanging lamps. When examining epitaphioi (processional veils) with complex compositions, I am always curious about how the embroiderers obtained images of the interior spaces of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, as hanging lamps appear in the background of many seventeenth and eighteenth-century veils. The lamps and ciboria embroidered on veils recall the aedicule containing Christ’s tomb, the Rotunda, and the area around the Stone of Unction. In the engraving’s lower right scene, forty-four lamps illuminate the interior of Christ’s tomb. Through the mobility of print, this type of scene no doubt circulated widely. I believe that engravings in travel accounts, such as this example, help answer how Jerusalem’s forms moved across space and media. 

Nikolaos Vryzidis

University of West Attica

One of the most challenging tasks for me as a scholar is to visualize the context in which an artifact was produced. While tangible remnants provide invaluable first-hand insights into the materials and techniques used, they cannot replace visual sources that offer a deeper understanding of the settings in which these artifacts were created. Regardless of a painter’s or engraver’s ‘truth’, the impact of an image depicting a process can often be more powerful and revealing than the objects themselves. This realization came to me during my review of the bibliography on textile production and consumption in Ottoman Thessaly. To my surprise, historian Socrates Petmezas argued that the driving force behind Eastern Thessaly’s proto-industrialization lay in rural, often domestic weaving workshops. In an effort to explore this, I searched the Gennadius Library’s holdings for visual sources of textile production in Thessaly and found a pivotal piece of evidence: a depiction from Views in Greece by Edward Dodwell, showing women engaged in domestic tasks, including what appears to be thread spinning, in a village outside Larissa. Though a modest discovery in itself, this image deepened my understanding of proto-industrialization in nineteenth-century Greece and sparked a desire for further investigations into related objects. 

Maria Giouroukou

Philologist – Palaeographer                  

The methodical way with which John Gennadius approached the acquisitions of his library is captured, I think, in a handwritten note stuck in the album of costumes created in the late 18th century by the artist who has been identified as Georg W. Graf von Rumpf. The drawings depict inhabitants of the Aegean islands, Smyrna and Constantinople, and officials of the Sultan’s court. The German Johann Hermann von Riedesel, in his book Remarques d'un voyageur moderne au Levant (French translation, Amsterdam 1773 [GT 667]), preserved information about a German Count Rumpf, married to a Naxos woman from a noble house, who lived in Naxos with his family (around 1760 – 1770), where he met her himself in 1768. For me personally, the drawings that Rumpf was inspired by Naxos, with types of local society – men and women, lords and shepherds, ladies and maids – constituted the living link that connected the dozens of nuggets of archival information that I had gathered from research in consular and community archives of the island with the snapshots of everyday life on which the study I was conducting focused. And this connection would not have been possible without the album compiled and bequeathed to us by Gennadios. 

Alessia Zambon

University of Versailles Saint-Quentin-en-Yvelines (University Paris–⁠Saclay. Cotsen Traveling Fellow 2011-2012      

Among the Gennadius Library's unique and precious documents, my research greatly benefitted from a small sketchbook (inv. A305.5B) containing valuable information on antiquity collections in Athens during the early 19th century. The manuscript is entitled 'A Collection of Seventy-Five Drawings Executed in Greece for Lord Guilford'. Frederick North (1766–1827), the fifth Earl of Guilford from 1817, travelled to Greece several times: first between 1788 and 1791, then between 1811 and 1813 and again from 1823 on. One of the sketches depicts William Gell in front of the Pnyx wall, enabling us to date these drawings more precisely to 1812 or 1813, when the scholar was in Athens at the same time as Lord Guilford. Although the author of the sketchbook remains anonymous, Greek captions suggest that the artist was probably Greek. I suspect it may have been Spyridion Trikoupis, who was Lord Guilford's secretary at that time. The pencil and pen-and-ink drawings depict monuments in situ and antiquities belonging to various collectors, including Lord Guilford and the French vice-consul Fauvel. Tracking down these objects, enabled me to identify some of them in museums such as the Louvre, the British Museum and the Athenian museums, shedding new light on the history of collections.

Simos Zenios

Stonybrook University. M. Alison Franz Fellow 2015-2016 & Cotsen Traveling Fellow 2018-2019        

Joannes Gennadius explains in the accompanying handwritten note that this 1824 German anthology of recently published Greek patriotic texts confirms a “conjecture” he had advanced in 1903. Two years, that is, before acquiring “this pocketbook,” and two years before reading on its pages the title “Lieder von Korai,” the future founder of the Gennadius Library had already identified the author of Asma Polemistirion (1800): “Korais was the creator” of what was perhaps the most influential revolutionary song of the period. 

Authorship, however, is not a claim of patrimony. Its identification does not conclude the task of philology, which must also examine Asma beyond its birth and trace its later life—one lived with foster parents. Within contexts, in other words, that differ in various ways from the “first year of freedom” — the date inscribed on the cover of the original edition. Such a reading must preserve both the heterogeneity and the continuity between the “Graeco-French” people of 1800 and the “Deutschhellenes,” the German-Hellenes, of 1824; between political and national revolutionary discourse; between the propagandistic war song and the poetic anthology. 

A reading of this kind—one that does not erase deliberately fatherless character of the 1800 edition—may move beyond a sources-and-influences framework to reconsider Asma’s points of reference. It can thus discern new constellations within Korais’s intellectual universe: revolutionary violence, for instance, as a means of regeneration alongside education, and the staging of that violence as public execution, spectacle, and festival. 

Studying the crystallization of these unexpected forms reveals the dynamic and experimental character of the transfer and adaptation of revolutionary vocabularies. It underscores equally the structural role played in this process by the cultural and literary field.