Eirene Constantinou

Eirene spends most of her days in her art studio, EVOHK, on the coastal city of Larnaca. Just a stone's throw away from the sea, Eirene runs her space in a refurbished traditional building in the Old Turkish Quarter. It sports huge glass doors with oak frames, massive arches, and tall ceilings. She walks through her gallery space on the ground floor and makes her way upstairs to her studio. The small space features a kitchen, art supplies, many canvases, and a little chill-out area at the very end. She takes a seat on a large black beanbag, right in front of a bookcase. It’s filled with books on art, antique leftist magazines, and a vintage photo of a donkey. 

“My goal was to wake up every morning, drink my coffee, and come to a space where I can meet other people and have conversations. Not just about art. Why do we exist? What makes us ‘art workers’? 

“Why do we do this thing professionally? Why do we want to get paid for this thing? Is it because the paintings on the walls are beautiful and people enjoy that you have talent? That’s definitely not art.” 

Eirene founded EVOHK in 2017 as a multifunctional artist-run space for individuals and groups to come together and collaborate on different projects. The space has since hosted several exhibitions, music events, poetry nights, and workshops, and is part of a larger international network of artists. One could say that EVOHK has offered a safe space for local artists to express themselves. It’s a unique concept for a small island like Cyprus. 

It’s obvious to anyone that Eirene has found her calling with art. She describes a purpose that comes from it; how creations can leave their marks on people’s lives. 

“I think the purpose of creating and producing something every day is for someone to love it and feel it as much as you do,” she says. “So that they too can create their own change in history, in society, in life; to give substance to our collective realities.”

Although EVOHK has provided a space for artists like herself to be creative and facilitate dialogue, Eirene admits that she hasn’t felt creative in a while. “I stopped being an artist,” she says. She describes a gloomy reluctance to share her work with the public since she’s returned to Cyprus. 

“The day before yesterday, I had asked myself why I don’t have many photos of my works of the last five years on my [social media] profile. Maybe I subconsciously did not think I could communicate with this audience. As soon as I returned, I stopped being interested in liking something. 

“Because I knew I was being rejected from the day I came back home. And all my ideas. So, after that, I didn’t see the point in trying to win something that could not be understood. In short, competition has been completely absent from my daily life – of course I’m referring to friendly competition and cooperation.”

She lacks dialogue, Eirene adds. She longs for it, even. But she’s struggled with having meaningful interactions since returning from abroad. She’s found it difficult to find her place. 

“Wow! Home! That’s such a difficult question… I need some time. I need a cigarette. I need to smoke now.”

Eirene has felt this way for a long time. It’s apparent that she loves Cyprus, and appreciates it for what it is. But life on the island feels stagnant. She describes its state as delicate, like a “fragile robot” moving on crouches. “One small thing can go wrong, and the whole thing will collapse.” 

“Why do I think reality is like it is? The way we are now? So many reasons. To be honest, I don’t even want to bother thinking about it. I'm tired, I'm frustrated, it's possible that there aren’t any reasons at all.

“Okay, maybe there are.  They are a-b-c-d. When you sit down to group, categorize and see where each comes from; when you begin from the bottom and start going up; I think you will understand where all this comes from and why we are in this Cypriot reality.

“The one that none of us can stand, and the one that we all want to leave. I'm tired of hearing this.”

Eirene is hinting at the long-standing Cyprus Problem, which she claims has created an internal battle on what it even means to be Cypriot. 

“I feel that we are many diverse pieces – I would like to believe, anyway — a very interesting story, isn’t it? Basically, I believe that I am from different places, around this island, and then we all came here and created what now holds us captive. Yes, it's a nice story.”

However, Eirene has managed to find a glimmer of hope in the most unexpected place: the Green Line – a stretch of land that runs from East to West that separates the northern and southern territories. It’s been patrolled by the United Nations Peacekeeping Operation in Cyprus since 1964, when civil dispute first erupted on the island.

“The other day, when I was taking part in a workshop with other artists, I learned something; That line was purely designed to divide. But there is another way to look at it; that line is a space between the two sides that is common.

“That’s the way I see it. How I would like to see it. And I think others will share this thought. That if we start seeing it that way, everything will change! I can’t be sure that this will be a positive change, but we all know that working to bring people together instead of driving them further apart — I mean, it should bring on something better.”

Born in 1991 (and therefore long after the divide), Eirene has only ever known her country under division. Yet, despite that, she says it’s important for her to see reunification one day. Whether that’s plausible, on the other hand – she admits she’s pessimistic. 

“There are so many places in Cyprus I’d like to visit. I have to say, I have already seen so much of this island. But to be honest, I’ve been avoiding… or maybe not avoiding; I am afraid to drive alone beyond the crossing points[to the north]. No one has invited me to drive me there, I guess that is part of the reason. But I never made that decision for myself, to go and visit. I wish I could change that. 

“I’ve seen so many photos of places that are supposed to be my island, that are supposed to represent my heritage. My father’s heritage, who was from the ‘occupied’ area. Oh gosh, why did I even use that word?

“As for what I want to see here on this side [the south]? I have time to do it. 

“That’s all. I just want to see everything that will be taken away from us soon. Sorry. I truly feel like it’s coming to an end. Any hope, any progress, any effort we’ve made for reunification, coming to an end. After all that’s happened recently – it’s over. 

“I know it’s a dark thought, I’m sorry, but it’s there.”