The party on Taygetou street had really warmed up and the lights seemed too bright. I turned them all off and grabbed a flashlight that I was waving very fast to make some DIY light show. The light of the flashlight brought dizziness on the alcohol, Underworld played on full volume, heels on the marbles.
Suddenly it seemed that we were all in the air. No soles touched the floor except those of the smokers on the balcony and some on the sofa. The flashlight illuminated the ceiling and in the space of half a beat it shed its light right next to me.
There she was, throwing her back forward, always perfectly dressed, always elegant, with her musical taste that did not need to be questioned, in a scene of dance ecstasy. I almost caught her eye while I was living in that moment.
And then, amidst the scattering of the stroboscopic effect, it was now clear:
in Nina Kotamanidou’s paintings, we were always the ones who danced.
We were never being boring / We had too much time to find for ourselves.
Walking with this blind trust in art, we were the characters in our party portraits.
One Saturday night, we entered her frames with the prospect of artistic immortality and so we would stay there forever:
young, cheerful and healthy – floating, between two beats.
In memory of Nina Kotamanidou
In art we trust.
