I’m still asleep and my good friend Matty comes over and lies down next to me. My good friend is a dog. The sound of an espresso machine popping, the first smell of running coffee, and this first cigarette of mine pushed aside dreams to capture reality from the start. Two such intent eyes and an impatient tail, they will never let me forget and not go on our morning walk.

A backpack, a kiss on the nose, a promise “I won’t be late” and I walk along the pedestrian street Themistocles to the school. “Good morning, Mr. Grumps…”, “…good morning, guys…”, “…what’s Matty doing…”. “Good morning, Chara…”, “…hello…” (usually with a big smile) and other such small and nice things to start with. A few conversations with Chara about current affairs and immediately to the lesson at 11.00. I don’t need to describe the lesson to you because it is reflected in our talk.

Lunch at a nearby school restaurant. Linda: Hello teacher. You’re late.” Me: “No, I’m on time. Hello Mr Thanasis.” (Thanasis is a gentleman who is also on time.) I want to say that I never identify myself as a teacher. I believe that this concept, as far as acting is concerned, can only be given to someone as an honorary title and respect for the great value of his work and his unique contribution to society as a whole. But not as a professional ability. And that’s why I don’t accept this address. I make an exception for neighbors of a nearby restaurant because I know they are not literal. I accept the address as a “golden mean”, between a sense of closeness and some distance at the same time. I accept, as I function as a teacher, the title of professor. So, after finishing my meal, I’ll go home. Someone is waiting for me there and knows exactly when I will return. Or where should I go.

Then home. If I get back in time, Matti will hurry to greet me. But if I’m late, I’ll find him lying in bed, sullen and indifferent. But when he hears how the process of cooking is changing, he finds again … his interest in life. You know, in the old days in the villages, our mothers used to teach us to sleep at noon, so that they too could rest a little. All day long they worked at home without a break. No matter how small the house was, it was enough for them to fall asleep. That was enough. Truth. So they had to get some rest too. These “round” mothers. With big hugs and an apron in the middle. So I learned to go to bed at noon. Matty, of course.

“Going down the steps of the theatre. About a small but often wonderful theatre. After all, that is why the audience comes to the theater. For a miracle.”

Rehearsal time. We almost always go to the school theater together. Backpack and coffee in hand from the corner bar. We go down the steps of the theatre. About a small but often wonderful theatre. After all, that is why the audience comes to the theater. For a miracle So we go down the stairs for three months to create a miracle. It may even seem like a utopia. So how is the miracle done? What tools, what materials? I believe that we should make the way the “materials” of life, imagination and passion “tools”, cast aside all sorts of “impurities” of everyday life that we carry, and with the most beautiful, pure and imaginative things that we bring, get to work, without compromise, but with great faith, maybe we will finally succeed and a miracle will happen. And if we don’t succeed, we shouldn’t lose heart. “We have become so wise, with so much experience”, next time we will become even closer.

End of rehearsal. Exarchia radiate something different from what they radiate during the day. People are everywhere. Music is everywhere and everywhere. Laughter, erotica. A buzz, mostly from young people flying around. Young people. Young men and women are everywhere. A hum that, if you close your eyes and listen, might remind you of that shell you hear in the sea. Yes. Exarchia is a shell, you hear all the waves.

After a glass of wine in the corner, Matty greets me with a wag of his tail, and then I become optimistic.

Based on the seven lessons of the actor, director and acting teacher Louis Jouvet, who in 1940 teaches his student Claudia the role of Elvira from Molière’s opera Don Giovanni, Jouvet-Elvira is represented by the theater company Act Seven (Valtetsiou 45) directed by Thodoros Grampsa. Starring Andriani Kilafi, Stelios Giannakos, Nikos Paliouras and director. Every Friday and Saturday at 21.15. and every Sunday at 20:00.