Eva Petropoulou Lianou interviews Greek artist Konstantinos Fais

Older middle aged man with a trimmed beard and hair in a black suit and tie speaking into a microphone. Greek words behind him.
Konstantinos Fais

Throughout history, there are figures that never fade with time. Figures that, even if born from mythical imagination or ancient philosophical thought, continue to inspire, challenge, and teach. One such figure is Heracles – a hero who didn’t just accomplish twelve labors, but who shaped an entire cultural and ethical worldview across the centuries.

With deep emotion and admiration, Eviasmile today hosts an interview that unfolds Heracles not as a mere myth, but as a multifaceted phenomenon: historical, ethnological, philosophical, artistic, and profoundly human. The artist and researcher Konstantinos Fais, through his visual creations and in-depth study, guides us into the fascinating world of Heracles – from ancient Erytheia to Euboea and the Lichadonisia – proving that this hero is more modern and relevant than ever.

Light-skinned middle aged European woman standing in front of a lake with a sunny beach and trees and people on the other side.
Eva Petropoulou Lianou

1. I came to know you through Mrs. Eva Petropoulou-Lianou, with whom I’ve been collaborating for the past year. Upon discovering your work, I was deeply moved and thought to engage in an interesting conversation about the Path of Heracles. How did your involvement with Heracles begin?

First of all, I must mention that Mrs. Petropoulou-Lianou is a calm yet powerful force in the realm of culture. Despite her cultural and humanitarian actions evolving on a global scale, she chooses to avoid showiness and unnecessary spectacle.

As for Heracles, although I was fascinated by his myth since childhood, my intensive engagement with the hero began about eight years ago, when I decided to delve into highlighting primarily Greek and broader Mediterranean culture through visual art. A thorough study of Greco-Roman literature – essential for understanding Heracles – introduced me to incredible dimensions of the myth that geographically extend beyond Hellenism, even as it developed during the Second Major Greek Colonization of the Archaic period.

The myth’s excellence became strikingly apparent and admittedly captivated me. Heracles not only survived the fall of the Greek world with the rise of the Roman Empire, but became a symbol of strength and bravery, a tool of political symbolism, and an archetype embraced by emperors. Leaders and entire dynasties in the ancient world claimed descent from him – for example, Leonidas of Sparta was considered his 20th descendant, Alexander the Great his 27th, along with Pyrrhus I of Epirus and Fabius Maximus.

From the fall of the Roman Empire through the Byzantine period, the Renaissance, and the Enlightenment, Heracles of Thebes retains his status as a paragon of chivalry, arriving in our times with undiminished prestige…in such a way that all other heroes pale in comparison.

Artist Konstantinos Fais peering out over a pencil drawing he's doing of a statue of bearded Hercules.

2. According to your research, do you believe this hero really existed? What can we learn from his mythology and how can it influence modern life?

First, allow me to congratulate you on your bold and deeply thoughtful question. It’s my belief that this most dazzling chapter of Greek Mythology and of Hellenism as a whole contains a strong historical core.

It may be that the myth was inspired by a prominent Greek figure from the Bronze Age, or a succession of notable individuals whose deeds merged into a unified mythological narrative. The ethnological approach, based on Greek and Roman sources starting with Herodorus of Pontus, suggests that there were at least seven mythical figures named Heracles – and the Roman scholar Varro mentions 43! Roman author Mavrus Servius Honoratus notes that even before the Roman Empire, any man of immense strength was dubbed “Heracles” by the Romans.

Of course, there’s also the contrasting theory that the myth is a purely philosophical construct, its interpretation shifting with the times and the author. Regardless, the knowledge and values transmitted through the myth – from archaic and classical antiquity to modern life – constitute undeniable cultural and moral wealth.

The truth is that Heracles’ myth is transformed throughout recorded history: from Homer’s “performer of great deeds,” to the “king of empires from East to West” in Dio Chrysostom, and then to the “benefactor of the people” in John Tzetzes of the 12th century AD. His character evolves fascinatingly.

Consider the myth’s wide reach in the ancient world – from the island of Erytheia west of Tartessos to the Aornis Rock in Asia, from the Hyperboreans to Ethiopia – people everywhere told of his exploits. As for what he teaches us: to purify our soul and follow the path of Virtue requires constant struggle and sacrifice, regardless of origin or status.

Despite his many epic feats, if I were to choose one defining moment of his life, it would be the famous allegory by the sophist Prodicus – the crossroad where Heracles must choose between Virtue and Vice, ultimately choosing Virtue. As Pythagoras also said, it is the difficult tasks that lead to virtue, not the pleasant ones. He called virtue “the law of the gods” and great-heartedness, prudence, and bravery “strong anchors.”

Pencil drawing of Hercules, half naked and half with his horned helmet and sword.

3. In exploring the etymology of the name “Heracles,” I found that it means “the glory of Hera.” But according to mythology, he was pursued by the goddess Hera. How do we reconcile this?

First, it’s worth noting that Heracles was also descended from Perseus and Alcaeus, which is why he was initially called Alcaeus or Alcides, after that ancestor. Mythological accounts differ by era, region, and author.

The version you refer to is explained as follows: Hera, to punish Zeus’s infidelity, sent two snakes to kill the infant Heracles. I’m fond of the astronomical detail from Theocritus of Syracuse, who wrote that “on the night the Bear [Ursa Major] tilted westward, two snakes with sparkling eyes, dark venom, and terrible fangs charged at Heracles.” Yet the baby strangled them with ease and, when Amphitryon entered the room in a panic, Heracles joyfully tossed the dead serpents at his foster father’s feet.

Another “earthly” version from Pherecydes of Athens claims it was Amphitryon himself who placed the snakes in the cradle to see which child was his own. When the people of Argos learned what had happened, they gave the boy the name “Heracles” – meaning he earned glory (kleos) because of Hera.

Another version: after Hera drove him mad, causing him to kill his own family, Heracles sought purification at the Oracle of Delphi. There, the Pythia gave him the name Heracles – “he who glorifies Hera” – as a form of spiritual redemption.

If we set aside Hera, there are other theories. Diodorus Siculus says the Heracles of Zeus and Alcmene – “the third and final one, who lived just before the Trojan War” – inherited the name from two earlier figures: the Cretan Idaean Heracles and an Egyptian Heracles. Because he lived a similar life to theirs, it was believed that “through all the ages, there was only one Heracles.” This is part of what we call the “ethnological prism” of Heracles.

Lastly, the philosopher Porphyry wrote in On Statues that Heracles was a name for the Sun, from klasthai pros ton aera – “to move toward the air,” symbolizing the sun’s journey from east to west, which purifies the Earth of evil. Thus, the twelve labors were linked mythologically to the zodiac cycle.

And regarding Hera’s jealousy: ironically, it was her milk that made Heracles immortal and created the Milky Way. This strange twist, as Diodorus puts it, shows how his birth mother abandoned him out of fear, while the source of his fear – his stepmother – unwittingly gave him divine nourishment.

Pencil drawing of a statue of a horse's head with a horn.

4. I’ve volunteered for over nine years supporting people with disabilities. Could you share a bit about your artwork and your collaboration with the Lighthouse for the Blind?

Allow me once again to express my sincere admiration for your work. That collaboration was a unique and truly profound experience for me. It’s a real challenge for a visual artist to create for those with visual impairments, as sight is a primary mode of receiving information.

I had to carefully select the appropriate artistic pieces to fulfill this goal. We raised the bar for knowledge through Art and ancient literature because inclusion is a social imperative without boundaries. The first piece adapted into tactile format through the pioneering PIAF method was a portrait of Heracles.

Image of a baby with curly hair holding snakes atop a bed.

5. Through your artistic perspective, can we find the path of Virtue that Heracles followed?

Regarding my art, I can confidently say that it is an effort to highlight our sacred and ancient heritage through each work – the result not only of long-term research but also of selfless love for our heroic and genealogical lineage.

From our modern elders to the ancients, our legacy is unified, and I believe we must respect it and build our future upon its timeless teachings. That said, distancing myself from narrow ideologies or opportunism, I believe it is up to each person to interpret visual stimuli in ways that serve both personal and collective good.

Greed, excess, and superficial modern lifestyles have caused spiritual atrophy in humanity – what Periander once called a “burdensome inheritance.” As Thucydides said, “Without courage, no art holds power over danger.” Food for thought…

6. On your social media, I noticed some of your works have been animated through AI. Can you tell me more about that?

Yes, depending on the context, I was initially hesitant – even skeptical – about artificial intelligence. But I eventually gave in to curiosity and experimented a bit. I must admit, I was impressed with the results.

However, as an artist rooted in classical and Hellenistic styles, I’ll approach this realm with great caution. We “old-school” researchers and artists still say nothing compares to the “smell of paper.” I’m in favor of progress, of course – but with respect for our roots and ethical framework.

7. While writing this interview, I thought schools could organize activities to help students learn about Heracles and draw life lessons from him. What do you think of this idea?

It’s an excellent idea – the real question is whether the authorities are willing to implement it with maturity and vision, as the greatest hero deserves. If we continue to treat Greek mythology – and Heracles in particular – merely as bedtime stories, there’s little hope for serious progress.

Heracles is an epic saga that’s been burning bright for 3,000 years. Interpreting his myth requires a multidimensional approach, and to incorporate it into education effectively demands thoughtful planning.

It should begin with simple storytelling at the early stages, then gradually delve into primary sources and the myth’s historical evolution – from Antiquity, the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, the Enlightenment, to the 19th-century comparative theories and 20th-century psychoanalytical and structuralist interpretations.

Higher education institutions should also take this more seriously. As far as I know, that’s not yet happening. For any such attempt to bear fruit, wisdom and care are essential.

8. Before we conclude this wonderful discussion, is there a final message you’d like to share with Eviasmile readers?

This truly was a beautiful discussion. I’d like to share a myth related to your island. Beyond Heracles’ connection to the healing springs of Aidipsos, tradition tells us that after he conquered Oechalia and took Iole, the daughter of the city’s king, they went to Euboea – to Cape Cenaeum – where he built an altar to Cenaean Zeus.

To offer a sacrifice, he sent a herald, Lichas, to nearby Trachis to bring him his ceremonial robe. However, Lichas revealed the whole affair to Heracles’ wife, Deianira, who, overcome with jealousy, gave him the tunic soaked with Nessus’ blood.

Heracles wore it to perform the sacrifice, but the poison seeped into his flesh, causing it to rot. In pain and rage, he hurled Lichas into the Euboean Sea. From the fragments of Lichas’ body, the Lichadonisia islands were said to be formed.

The Italian sculptor Antonio Canova immortalized this scene with a technique equal to Hellenistic sculpture over 200 years ago. Today, one can admire this neoclassical masterpiece at the National Gallery of Modern Art in Rome.

On a related note, I’m also intrigued by the Lelantine War of your island, as recorded by Thucydides – one of the defining events of early Greek history.

In conclusion, I’m truly pleased that Eviasmile has shown such genuine interest in Heracles and the glories of our ancestors through this wonderful interview. Euboea’s rich legacy must be preserved and promoted through coordinated effort.

This interview is not merely a conversation about Heracles – it is a journey into the essence of Virtue, Courage, Sacrifice, and Faith. Our guest, with grace, depth, and a deep sense of cultural duty, reminds us that the past is not dust on library shelves, but a guide toward a more meaningful future.

Eviasmile is honored to host voices that respect tradition, elevate our cultural identity, and inspire new generations to walk – like Heracles – the difficult but redemptive path of Virtue. Because ultimately, every heroic deed begins with one question: “What kind of person do you want to become?”

Essay from Sarvinoz Orifova

Central Asian woman with long dark hair, small earrings, and a flowered red and black coat over a black top.

The Power of Hope in Difficult Times

Life is full of challenges, and everyone faces moments when the path forward seems uncertain. During these difficult times, one of the strongest forces that helps us continue is hope. Hope is more than just a feeling; it is a guiding light that gives us the strength to keep moving even when everything seems dark.

When people go through hardships such as loss, failure, or loneliness, hope reminds them that tomorrow can be better. It allows us to believe in new beginnings and motivates us to work toward them. Without hope, even the smallest obstacles can feel overwhelming, but with hope, even the greatest challenges become bearable.

Hope is not blind optimism. It does not ignore reality, but rather teaches us to face it with courage. It inspires creativity, resilience, and patience. A hopeful person can turn problems into opportunities for growth, because hope provides the energy to search for solutions instead of giving up.

In my own life, I have found that hope often comes from the people I love and from the goals I set for myself. Whenever I have felt discouraged, remembering my dreams and the support around me has given me the courage to try again. Each small step forward becomes easier when hope is present in my heart.

Hope is like a seed planted deep within us. With care and faith, it grows stronger every day, even in the hardest seasons. For me, hope is not only a personal strength but also a gift I want to share with others. By encouraging and supporting each other, we can spread hope and remind the world that no night lasts forever—the dawn always comes.

Poetry from Anakha S.J.

Pixelated gray image of a South Asian teen girl with earrings and dark curly hair.

Dark Rose

There is a dark red rose in my garden.

Morning dewdrops at the rise petals.

Sparkle like diamonds.

It seems to be the most beautiful rose in the world.

The rose in my yard settle in my heart.

A rose by the name LOVE has bloomed 8n my heart.

In morning, and in the evening,

I like to water her.

I love her, I care her,

My red rose, my red rose.

…   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …   …

Anakha S J, 15 years old,  is a student in Govt. High School, Vithura, Kerala, India. Writing poetry and gardening are her passion and hobby.

Essay from Sevinch Mukhammadiyeva

Young Central Asian woman leaning to the left. She's got long curly dark hair, brown eyes, and a striped black vest over a black blouse with a small necklace. She's on a city street with trees and a sidewalk and buildings in the distance.

“Kelajak ofisi” unites young people 

Sevinch Mukhammadiyeva 

sevinchmuhammadiyeva06@gmail.com

Annotation: It would not be a mistake to say that the “Office of the Future” is a true center of opportunities and knowledge for young people. During the program, participants have the chance to strengthen their teamwork and leadership skills, attend master classes from experienced speakers, and exchange ideas and experiences with new friends. Over the course of five days, more than 150 young people discover new sides of themselves. This program is highly valuable and essential for today’s youth. 

Keywords: Education, 5 days, Kelajak ofisi, project

Аннотация: Не будет ошибкой сказать, что «Офис будущего» является настоящим центром возможностей и знаний для молодежи. В рамках программы участники имеют возможность укрепить свои навыки командной работы и лидерства, посетить мастер-классы от опытных спикеров, а также обменяться идеями и опытом с новыми друзьями. В течение пяти дней более 150 молодых людей открывают в себе новые грани. Эта программа является очень ценной и необходимой для современной молодежи.

Ключевые слова: Образование,5 дней, Проект,Келажак офиси

Annotatsiya: “Kelajak ofisi” yoshlar uchun haqiqiy imkoniyat va bilim maskani desak, adashmagan bo‘lamiz. Dastur davomida ishtirokchilar jamoada ishlash va yetakchilik ko‘nikmalarini mustahkamlash, tajribali spikerlarning mahorat darslarida qatnashish, yangi do‘stlar bilan fikr va tajribalar almashish imkoniyatiga ega bo‘ladilar. Besh kun davomida 150 dan ortiq yoshlar o‘zlaridagi yangi qirralarni kashf etadilar. Ushbu loyiha yoshlar uchun nihoyatda muhim va qadrlidir.

Kalit so’zlar: Ta’lim, 5 kun, proyekt, Kelajak ofisi

Mukhammadiyeva Sevinch is a second-year student at Tashkent State Medical University. She graduated from school with a gold medal in 2024, demonstrating her academic excellence. In 2022, she earned an IELTS score of 6.5, reflecting her strong proficiency in English. Sevinch is also the holder of a National “A” Certificate in Chemistry and has achieved distinction as a winner of the Chemistry Olympiad.

Essay from Brian Barbeito

Middle aged light skinned man in reading glasses and a zipped up jacket over a tee shirt, looking down. Trees and grass and clouds in the distance.

A phantasmagoria including the past and present, visions, dreams, bits of reality, psychic seers and the sea, hairstyles, nature walks, talismans, seasons and wonder. When I was a kid I could see that spirit was announcing itself through the floor tiles, sometimes the wallpaper or clouds, and other things. The problem later, for a mystic that is,- is a liberal arts or even worse, science education, and growing up in general. This takes the ghosts away and then you fit in but fit into what?- to a mediocre and a blasé reality devoid of electric and eclectic realms. The spirits were there, are there, and not as a projection but rather a protection. Sometimes though, they themselves are lost souls as are we, and they are crying out for help or to at least be seen. There are such things, such strange mellow and sometimes startling phenomenon.

The diviner said that one of the people listening was wearing a whale necklace. And I was. And she said the letter B as an initial. This was true. This was me. And yet in another instance, she said also, about green iguanas and the country of Aruba, of the name ‘Brian,’ as she put it. This interested me and I resonated with it. I had just gotten back from Aruba and seen and photographed the green iguanas. Then I saw the whale design on the pet store floor also. I wondered if someone drew it or it was a marking by accident. It was in a way slightly vague that I just could not exactly tell. I wasn’t sure what it all meant but it meant something. 

I thought back to the past then. Working in the shelter I had to help a most beautiful woman from The Caspian Sea who was assigned to be a co-worker but was bullied by the other woman workers. It was because of her hair mostly. She had balayage hair and to her waist. It was real hair. And she was full of mystery and wonderful strange exotic eclectic auras and atmospheres. Then other women, especially during trainings when everyone had to sit together, whispered loudly and cruelly about her saying she didn’t belong there and that her hair was not real. She began to ask me long before trainings if I would get coffee with her when it was break. I realized it was not because she liked me in any even platonic or other way, but because it wasn’t too far off from being bullied in the school yard and she knew I’d be an ally. And to think, these people were assigned to helping and advocating for the marginalized. What a world we live in. She was hurt and overall sensitive. And amidst several regular souls trying to make their way, to navigate life, two known drug dealers were walking up the driveway one evening and one was really heavy-set. She said, ‘Here comes a whale,’ and it broke my idea of her as she now had a capacity for meanness. She had that capability somewhere inside her. I just kept it to myself. English was not her first language. But she managed the insult ‘well,’ though I didn’t like it. 

I kept listening to the canon of near-death experiences because I studied much in my spare time about spirituality, psychology, that whole realm of topics. It often said how people didn’t want to come back,- such was how it felt at home in heaven or the other side. That was hopeful for the sick, the terminally ill, for the ones who have passed and for all of us one day…when our time and circumstance of demise arrive…

I eventually left the world as much as I could and just walked the forests and by small streams of water. There I saw what I deemed to be spirits in the tree bark, cumulus clouds, or in swaying winter reeds cold and freezing. I felt them amidst spring raindrops where I waited solitary in the world for what I don’t know. Summer spirits everywhere too,- by sumac leaves and the abandoned tractor, in the flickering light through the tree canopy or the stones by the lee, the protective lee made of sand and dirt and root systems. Autumnal times had the most, HAVE the most,- spectres, phantoms, and angels. They live everywhere. Sometimes during those times an energy can be felt, like an electric surge in the air but one more akin to containing a spiritual sensibility. Maybe it was the kundalini energy, I would think. I had seen several snakes in the early days and wondered if they were an outward manifestation of the inward kundalini rising or having risen. 

It had been a long day. I lay down to sleep. I suddenly and finally saw the light, an other-worldly light,- golden and white mixed together. It was unmistakable. Then again, and a third time to be sure. I was growing spiritually after a lifetime of practice. I was grateful. I prayed to see it more. I did a bit. Then I must have fallen asleep and finally had good dreams again. I dreamt I was by the old shore and the saltwater sea. The one of my youth. It was overcast. Atlantic coastline. I was alone but felt so good about it. I glanced back at my building, then up and down the shoreline and finally out to the horizon. I felt the energy of the world, like in the forest but times a hundred or more, and it seemed it was another world,- an electric heaven. I could see distant verdant palm fronds dancing awkwardly for the pre-storm winds. I went in the water up to my neck and sometimes went intentionally under and let the ocean go a bit into my mouth and my eyes. That way it could enter my soul. I was unafraid. I was just unafraid of absolutely anything. I didn’t know if I was on earth or in heaven, experiencing this world or the next, immersed in a dream or kissed by providence and fortune and therefore there in real life. 

But I wasn’t lost anymore.

I was home. 

Poetry from Patricia Doyne

READING, WRITING, & RIFLES *

The Minnesota school year starts– high hopes!

Kids greet old friends, begin a brand new grade,

their backpacks filled with new crayons and glue sticks.

Morning begins with Mass. The students pray

together, sharing optimism and faith—

until the gunfire starts.  Round after round

sprays through a stained-glass window, firing wild.

Two kids are killed, and 18 more are wounded.

Terror, shock, and panic fill the church.

One boy, shielding his friend, shot in the back.

A wounded girl keeps pleading, “Hold my hand.”

There’s no escape. The shooter barred a door

with a 2X4. Brought three guns. Used them all—

a rifle, shotgun, pistol. Perfect tools

for someone standing outside, shooting in.

Just like the shooter’s heroes in the news.

It takes a lot of hate to mow down children—

faces bright with eagerness and promise.

What kind of mind resents their zest and joy?

Seeks only to destroy, destroy, destroy?

And why can some young person filled with rage

buy gun after gun after gun– no questions asked?

This feast of hate was crowned by suicide.

Without guns, toxic hate would not be fatal.

*  On August 27, 2025, a sniper shot through a Church window at children attending a Mass that opened the school year for Annunciation Catholic School in Minneapolis. Two dead, 18 wounded.

ICE WELCOMES STRANGERS

ICE targets brown—brown eyes, brown hair, brown skin.

Storm troopers drag whole families from rich fields,

leaving crops half-picked. These bounty hunters

seize brown workers from construction sites,

hotel staffs, work crews, courts, meat-packing plants.—

disrupting businesses, creating holes

that can’t be filled. A green card’s not a shield.

Even immigration court’s not safe.

Brown workers hide, afraid of ICE’s thugs.

On streets, masked gunmen driving unmarked vans

jump out, grab targets, drive off– sowing fear.

ICE operates like mob enforcement gangs.

Fills up detention camps with immigrants

who work, pay taxes, send their kids to school,

send money home to families in need.

Some holding cells are clean, at least. But one—

the Alcatraz built in the Everglades–

a hell-hole! Florida’s new pride and joy.

Who works for ICE? Enjoys the snatch-and-grab–

strong-arming, terrorizing, playing rough?

These Christian soldiers, battling immigrants,

feel justified. Just get the vermin out!

When preachers drag up that old bible verse,

“I was a stranger, and you welcomed me…” *

the words bounce off. That propaganda’s woke!

A better watchword’s this: thou shalt not covet

thy neighbor’s country. Look out—here comes ICE!

* Matthew 25:35

Poetry from Nikhita Nithin

Black and white photo of a young smiling woman with thick dark hair and small earrings.

Oh! What a breeze!

As I sit near the window,

My hand rested on the steel bar,

I hear clapping – I look around…

There was a festival going on.

Dreamy lights everywhere.

As I was looking at the festival in awe

A whirlwind of breeze tucked my hair!

I suggest – Oh! What a breeze!

The trees swaying in the rhythm

                                  of the breeze

I felt like the wind was calling me

                               to dance with it.

I was lost in what I was feeling and seeing.

As I regained my thoughts, I said dreamily…

Oh! What a breeze!

…   …   …   …   …   . .   …   …   …   …   …   …   …

Short biodata:

Nikhita is a 19 year old. She is studying at SSVM World School, Coimbatore, India. She enjoys reading books, dancing, and playing the piano. Her imagination and creativity shine through her writing.