His first recorded appearance took place on a summer morning in 1860 in the narrows of Plaka. It was recorded because this shaggy man pulling his donkey loaded with Aeginite jugs was the same as another, an aristocrat, who the previous Sunday was drinking his coffee in Orea Greece on Aiolou Street. Someone noticed him and spread the news – after all, what was Athens at that time… “A handful of nomads” as the humorist Souris would later say.

He didn’t really want to learn that the dirty, ragged pitcher, who plowed the roots of the Acropolis with his donkey, shouting “I have Aeginetan pitchers,” was transformed once a week into… a lord with a rag and a silver-handled cane.

At that time, he proudly walked around the center of Athens, went to church in Kapnikarea and then walked straight to the cafe “Orea Hellas” at the corner of Aiolos and Ermou, where the dignitaries of the time frequented and discussed politics.

The mysterious guy who had charmed (and not only) the ladies

To everyone this man was a mystery. They did not know where he had “landed” in Athens, what his name was or where he lived. It was assumed that he would obviously live in one of the slums of Plaka. Perhaps he lived near Pitharadika (area of ​​Athens, where pottery factories were concentrated – today’s Exarchia) in order to procure his goods from there and shoot straight into the heart of the city.

What is certain is that the itinerant pitcher had not escaped the women’s perception, as he was an upright, intelligent man, with beautiful blue eyes and a well-groomed moustache.

The “work clothes” were not enough to hide his beauty and the few psycho girls and ladies who rushed to get a jug from his creations, were not at all interested in where his hat was kept… Many fell in love with him – they will be found later, let some say – even he, a lover as it seems, of the podogiro no one he had a bad heart. But, you are not bored… What male’s mind dared to reach this far? What was this man? An itinerant juggler, a vicious biowrestler. The women did not turn their eyes on him.

kanatas

Athens, still a lame capital, was struggling to stand on its feet, the water supply network was a luxury that it did not dare to dream of. Pitchers came and went at the public fountains and regularly broke. And the handsome pitcher was the constant feeder.

With this and that, his name was also learned, they called him Giannis, and something about the gray hair, something about the moustache, they used to call him “barba Giannis” even though he himself was not yet 50.

Such was the passion with which he advertised his business that many believed he came from Aegina, although he himself had said many times that he came from Prussia.

The brazen attack, the song and the sharp response of Barmas Yiannis

Barba-Yiannis was loved. He was mischievous (perhaps a little naïve), well-spoken and told jokes that his customers loved.

One Sunday in 1873, having attended church in Kapnikarea and chatting with some ladies outside the church, he unprovokedly received the teasing – which quickly turned into a beating – from a group of spoiled young scions of aristocratic families, who sought to make a show of power on Lord Kanata and “impress » to the ladies.

They relentlessly chased him to the Ermou base and if he hadn’t sought refuge in a store and the assistance of the Police, they would probably have killed him. After all, the young men had already managed to hit him hard on the head, seriously injuring him and sending him to the hospital.

The fame of Barba-Yiannis reached the palace. The indolent tradesman, who had become an emblematic figure of Athens, inspired the Bavarian captain, George I’s chief musician, Andrea Seiler, to arrange an Italian cansonetta for him. The new musical product, now dedicated to the popular kanata of the Greek capital, was regularly played by the royal orchestra and despite its mocking lyrics made Barba-Yiannis swell like a peacock.

“Barba-John with your pitchers and pitchers, feast your eyes,

as wearers of tall hats and elastic shoes, be careful not to be laughed at by some pretty lady and eat your ass and leave your tail.

Barba-Yiannis I adore you, I will love you faithfully, Barba-Yiannis canada”.

The light song was much loved by the Athens of the time, but also by the Athens of the 20th century.

It seems, however, that the Plaka potter himself was determined not to go down in history as a simple picturesque itinerant shopkeeper. So, he decided to respond in his own way.

In 1873, the printing house of Giannis Razis published a 16-page poetry collection, under the title “The folk songs of Barbaiannis the pitcher and various other love songs collected and printed at his expense”, where the poet pitcher, among other things, published:

“You don’t call me, ladies,
what do you have in store for me
if i turn every day
with torn old clothes?

And if the holiday like a lord
I walk archly
with a tall black hat
and with fine gloves?

On the shoulder if I have one
my shawl thrown
and as a grand captain
my mustache twisted?

And if on the donkey up
I load everyday
bowls and pitchers
and am I bawling?

And that he will cheat on me
and I’ll stay open
because I don’t let him
sometime to stop.

And you tell me to be careful
no lady to be found
and the donkey eats me
and leave me the tail.

Do not, my ladies, live,
don’t make it work
and poor barba-Yiannis
I’m sane.

If love squeezes me
and want marriage,
it will also be found by me
like you some lady.

To wash me, to sew for me
the coat, the breeches
and on Sunday with me
to come to the music.

To wear bright dresses

Technically sewn
and let the woman be called
of Barba-Yiannis Kanata.”

Who was Barba Yiannis Kanatas, according to him

In the foreword of the publication, Barba-Yiannis introduced himself. It is the only safe evidence that future generations would have to receive about him.

He said he was from important wealthy family of Bursa and how he spent a not inconsiderable amount for the liberation of Crete (pp. the period from 1770 to 1898, when it became autonomous, the island went through a period of constant wars and rebellions).

With a complaint, but also a critical mood, he noted that instead of being beaten who works modestly on weekdays and walks like a lord on holidays, he should be praised because… “I don’t sit in coffee shops or run to the doors of ministries to ask for help […] I preferred to run with the donkey selling pitchers and singing my hymns, than to become a burden on poor Greece”.

He suddenly disappeared

Like a comet that erased a short shining trajectory and disappeared into the infinity of the universe, Barba-Yiannis disappeared at the turn of the 1880s. Alone, alone, without anyone announcing his flight or death, he was never seen again on the streets of Plaka.

The popular imagination created its own versions of his disappearance. Some said he was Bulgarian (his anatomical features also advocated) and how with the end of the Russo-Turkish war and the signing of the treaty of Ag. Stefanou, who recognized the establishment of a great Bulgarian state, returned to his homeland and started a family.

Others said that he fell in love with a rich French woman and gave up everything to follow her in the West and others that he was seduced by a married Greek woman and when her husband made them fight, barba-Yiannis was forced to leave the country to save the reputation of the adulteress and his life…

More imaginative ones claimed that the benevolent pitcher he was a spywho came to Greece in an extremely turbulent time for the Balkans, fulfilled his mission and left.

Whatever it was, and for whatever reason he came to Athens, barba-Yiannis filled with his presence the active everyday life of the city, became its emblematic figure and wrote his own short, but rough, page in the history her stories. As long as the song of Epitropakis is heard, as long as the film of PAN-FILM, directed in 1957 by Fr. Iliadis and K. Strantzalis, with Vassilis Avlonitis in the role of barba-Yiannis, the pitcher of Athens will be remembered by generations to come. If they are lost, he will be lost with them…