“And now the duet: Oh mickey with your mom!” the composer’s father, Giorgis Theodorakis, proudly announces.

His son, Mikis, plays the piano, softly singing Manos Eleftheriou’s verses, while his mother accompanies him: “The boy is unhappy, and I look into his eyes…” At the end, the mother’s giggles of pleasure are faintly heard before they move on to the next .

“Let’s go to!” the composer gives the order, and the sound of the piano keys sets the rhythm for Mrs. Aspa, who seems to be enjoying the moment. “A bat on the roof / guarding my house / who will tell / know my trouble …” As exhausted as the sound may sound from the burden of so many decades, but the moment is touching. Moreover, very few records-documents with the Theodorakis family have been preserved. He is not only an excellent singing composer, but also the son of his mother. In addition, he always had a soft spot for his family. To his father and his patriotic attitude, which was a role model for him. As he wrote, he saved his life “not once or twice, but dozens of times, since every moment when I was on the verge of death, my thoughts turned to him, and a mysterious power brought him to me as a Guardian Angel.” to save me…”

When she lost him, she felt as if “the most precious part of my life left me, which, apparently, only he could give me, and then I realized that I live only for him …” Here is what he wrote in 2012 in a letter to the Society for Continental Studies, in which the diary “From the 1912 epic. War Pages” by his father George M. Theodorakis. He also had a soft spot for his mother and, of course, for his brother Giannis.

Several surviving recordings of Theodorakis and his family show the composer’s weakness for his parents and brother.

The audio document of the tender comes from the composer’s valuable and impressive archive, which he has donated to the Friends of Music Association’s Lillian Woodury Music Library since 1997. The recording reminded me of our conversation in May 2013 at the rehearsal of the show “Who is my life …” at the Badminton Theater, which he watched tirelessly for three hours.

After seeing the rehearsal and how he fixes small details or rewards members for anything related to his parents, I asked if this was the final report. “If by some miracle I could live ten minutes in the past, I would choose to eat at the table, in Pyrgos in 1939 or in Tripoli in 1942, when my mother, father and brother sang my new song together,” he answered. .

September 2 marks the one year anniversary of the death of Mikis Theodorakis, and his archive at the Megaros Musikis Music Library is full of documents, testimonies from personal and family moments, musical, political, social, some of which were seen close to more than 3,500 visitors at the My Galaxy exhibition, which can now be visited through the website of the Music Library (www.mmb.org.gr). This is a valuable virtual tour of the world of Mikis Theodorakis, who simultaneously appreciates Greece with its deepest traumas and greatest wonders.

One of the touching letters that the composer himself sent to his parents on October 28, 1969 from Oropos is preserved in an audio document read by his father, George Theodorakis. “My dear parents. Thank you for today’s package and especially for your visit today. It’s true that we’re a little far away, but we’re there, and that’s great. Do not grieve for me, because, as you know, I am perhaps the happiest person living in this country today. I see the sky, the sea and I have a close relationship with music. What else do I want? In Ikaria I saw mountains and firs and was happy there. I wrote a lot of music. And here I will definitely write more. This is everything for me. So I don’t want to be sad. (…) The climate here gives me a headache here and there. But Novaltin calms me down. Fortunately, I have a lot of medicine with me. Although I have no appetite at all, I still try to eat well. I move and rest normally. At the same time, I’m slowly getting my life back on track. There is a shower and an electric washing machine next to my cabin. As soon as I gather enough clothes, I’ll do the laundry. A bathrobe is required for showering, as well as khaki shorts. I forgot to bring my nail brush. I would also like you to send me copies of Eleftheri’s folk songs. Poems, as well as collections of poems. Poetry in general. (…) Kiss Mirto, Giannaki, Nica and your grandchildren. I live with the thought of you and imagine sunny days when we will all be together again. I kiss you with respect and love, your son Mikis.”

“I came to Oropos 27 times to meet you only once”

Those who worked on the exhibition “My Galaxy” – Stefania Merakou, Valia Vrakas, Erato Koutsoudakis, Alexandros Harkiolakis – note the great devotion that George M. Theodorakis shows to his son. Significantly, he kept reviews and clippings from the newspapers of Mika’s student years in the archive, which he pasted onto blank pages. On June 28, 1970, his father wrote in leather-bound newspaper clippings about his son’s imprisonment at the Oropos camp: “My dear Mickey. I have come to Oropos 27 times and traveled 2700 kilometers to meet you only once. Otherwise, I saw you as a shadow from a distance of 300 meters. Oropos was one of the biggest challenges of my life. But that’s where the satisfaction comes from. Today you are holding a concert in London at the largest theater in the world with the largest symphony orchestra in the world. (…) I thank God and exclaim: “Now you release your Despot slave.” Your father loves you.”

On May 23, 1973, he attempts to compile a report on a collection of press clippings. “Today, since the day you arrived in Paris on April 13, 1970, 11 volumes of your book have been completed.”

“I have complete confidence in you,” Mikis Theodorakis said when the director of the Music Library asked him if he would like something highlighted during the installation of the exhibition. “If you’re showing sheet music, don’t limit yourself to just the cover or the first page. It must be seen that in order to write a manuscript of a great work or a symphonic work, a lot of work is required.

The impressions of the public in the visitor’s book move Stefania Meraka, as does the interest of many schools who visited the exhibition even in difficult conditions due to the pandemic. Now the digital visitor can discover the great composer through his own words, texts, notes, interviews. His manuscripts were always neatly laid out on the table, notes, scratched pencils. Everything is preserved, along with family photos, memorabilia, gifts, a box of cigars from Fidel Castro, and Konstantinos Glicksburg’s signature in the corner – he ended up at the Greek embassy when the gift arrived. Even their personal correspondence with Mirto in the 1940s has been preserved. But this is the only part of the archive that cannot be accessed while his wife is alive, according to his wishes.

“The happiest moment in my life was when my daughter was born. The most unpleasant thing is when I lost my father,” these are his words. Mirto, Margarita, George and his family. Mikis, Angelos, Stefanos, Alexandros, Mirto grandchildren. “This is my little family and the living traces we leave in time, after our first meeting in Philopappou in July 1944 and from a lifelong journey, before which the passions of Odysseus seem like a trifle.”