Between the thriving towns of Northern Santorini and its vibrant beaches to the South lies a true hidden gem. Tucked away in the labyrinth of whitewashed backstreets, tiered bell towers and wooden doorways of Megalochori you will find Symposion, a cultural centre and truly immersive experience of music and mythology.

Inspired by the Nine Muses of the arts, housed in a turn-of-the-century winemaking facility, Greek mythology and ancient music come together in one harmonious display within the confines of the domed hall-come-performance chamber.

Wandering through the cobbled streets of Megalochori (pron. Mega-lo-hori) you are immediately hit with a different vibe to any other corner of Santorini island. Gone are the overcrowded streets of iPhone-wielding tourists, to be substituted with a charming village centre whose bougainvillea-canopied square is more like to seat groups of local men playing tavli than rowdy shirtless boozers.

The settlement dates back to the 17th century which is relatively young by Greek standards, although other settlements on the island date back to over 5,000 years ago. The most distinctive features of the village are its vast surrounding vineyards, cementing Megalochori as the heart of Santorini’s wine industry. In centuries past it exported sweet Vinsanto wine across all of Europe and still does to this day. Once a haven for pirates, it eventually played host to prominent intellectual and ecclesiastical figures across the 19th and 20th centuries, before becoming badly damaged by the 1956 earthquake which struck the island.

It wasn’t until almost four decades later in 1999 that local property developers began to restore the old, crumbling buildings and breathe new life into them, and the village now stands as a beautiful example of classic Cycladic architecture. 

We could’ve spent hours perusing the independent craft shops, poring over the charmingly decorated streets and doorways, or sipping Santo coffee beneath the shade of a Eucalyptus tree, but tucked away in Megalochori’s backstreets a true wonder awaited us.

We were greeted at the gate by the warm smiles of Argy and Yannis, but our attention was quickly grabbed by the unique architecture of the building behind them.

A pair of steel doors were framed by a mosaic of differently coloured volcanic rocks, unusually not limewashed but left to bare their unique design and history, caper plants growing from within the cracks. The parts of the building that were plastered were inset with rustic wood and stone textures, and a beautifully mismatched set of tables and chairs beneath macrame parasols (one could only dream of such a thing in rainy England) immediately set the tone of the courtyard as a laidback, bohemian-style performance area.

As Yannis went to set up indoors, Argy gave us a tour of the buildings.

Built at the turn of the last century by master artisan and winemaker Zorzis Ioannis Saliveros, this building which used to make 80,000 bottles of wine had now been reimagined into a cultural epicentre. It had sat empty for 50 years before the couple had acquired it in 2018, moving on from the Venetian tower that had housed their workshop and exhibition centre since 2011.

In honour of their first premises they named their new home Symposion by La Ponta, a name intertwined with both Ancient Greek history and the more recent past of the winery.

The name Symposion comes from the Greek word sympinein - ‘to drink together.’ In ancient Greece, people would drink during a banquet accompanied by music, dancing, recitals and conversation. Their wine was carefully cut with water so that they could maintain lucidity and gain inspiration from the Nine Muses.

When viewing the property one thing that instantly struck them were the nine circular holes above the entrance door; immediately a sense of symmetry with the Nine Muses of the Arts was formed, and this inspired the purchase and transformation of the premises.

Argy and Yannis strove to preserve every possible aspect of the building, making only minor renovations with respect to the storied history of Megalochori. You can still see the old wine barrels and grape-pressing pit from the factory’s winemaking past. The site now houses a performance chamber, artisan’s workshop, botanical garden and Homeric wine cafe, which is where we sat and enjoyed one of the local Yellow Donkey beers.

As we entered the performance chamber where Yannis was tuning his instruments, the fusion of both artist and musician was immediately evident and omnipresent.

Every aspect of their home was art, from the stone benches and leather trunk tables to the bathroom sinks. He was a musician while she utilised his musical talent in artistic ways, repurposing instruments as everything from exquisitely placed decorations to toilet roll stands.

Traditional drums diffused soft light through their skins, adding to the soft glow that filtered down from the chamber’s two skylights. Casually-placed baskets of goat horns and bamboo canes added an old-worldy ambience, while a sunbleached ladder and clusters of snake plants oozed bohemian vibes in the courtyard. Each piece of furniture had been carefully repurposed from something else; two wicker baskets and a door made a coffee table, and a seashell and a foot pump created the most whimsical bathroom sink. The entire site was a symphony of relaxing earthen tones, undeniably Santorinian but with a nod to the island’s history seldom seen in other, more modern, areas of the island.

There was not a straight line in sight, a fact which Yannis pointed out to us was no coincidence. Were there any straight lines in nature? he asked. The answer was a resounding no, and it seemed obvious now that humans were not made to live in square white boxes, but that we should be living harmoniously with nature and all its imperfections.

He led us through to the chamber, where he was ready to make his performance.

A reverent hush settled on the room, and with that Yannis began to play.

The sweet, mellifluous notes of the lyre began to fill the air, captivating us and transporting us to a time of ancient myths and age-old legends. He played for us one of the most classical Santorini songs, melodies which brought waves of emotion into your chest like those of the mighty Aegean Sea, and finished by playing no less than the oldest song in the world, written in 2nd century AD Greece.

Even with no formal education in music you can quickly become lost in the mystifying tones of ancient compositions as we did, and this only continued as Yannis played a series of floating melodies on the most unusual of instruments, the double Syrinx- or twin cane flute- which swelled up to fill the chamber as though we were watching an entire orchestra.

Words really cannot do justice to the way these ancient instruments, so masterfully played, instil such a sense of primordial wonder within, and lift your spirits as high as the eternally blue Santorini sky above.

Once the performance was over we were shown around the artisan’s workshop, where a display of tsabounas of all different eras sat inside a cabinet. The tsabouna, or Greek bagpipe, was the instrument that initially drew Yannis to Santorini, having visited the neighbouring island of Naxos in 2006 where he learned to craft and play the instrument from a local shepherd. Upon his arrival in Santorini he met the last living tsabounier on the island, and through playing the unique instrument at village festivals began to revive an interest in its distinctive sound.

With childlike glee we were invited to create our own set of panpipes in Yannis’ workshop, crafting them from rubber bands and reeds harvested across the island under the instructions of the master instrument maker. Once they were sanded down and assembled in size order, we strained our lips into the correct shape (“like spitting sunflower seeds”) and managed to produce a sound.

Although we were far from master pipers, Yannis presented us with an instrument that required nothing in the form of training to play.

The lyre, crafted from wood, strings and a tortoise shell (not real) was an instrument that was so simple to play, yet delivered the most complexly moving sounds. Yannis instructed us to hold the instrument between us, each holding one edge of it and plucking at the strings. We novices sounded somehow as though we had been playing for years, and continued to pluck gentle rhythms as Yannis read from the Odyssey.

Never had we fallen in love so instantly with an instrument; of course the lyre could be learned and mastered, but even just by plucking strings at random we were able to create the most pleasing of sounds.

As the afternoon drew to a close it was time for us to depart, panpipes in hand, but within the halls of Symposion we’d left a small piece of our souls amongst the earthen walls. We had entered as novices, but left feeling a spark of that connection to music and Greek history that Argy and Yannis so strived to create.

You can find Symposion on Facebook and Instagram.

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