Anarchaeological Anaparastasis

From its very inception, the modern Greek state was shaped by masterful storytelling. Was it a heroic revolution or merely a geopolitical agreement between the Great Powers? Secret guerrilla schools or early state-sponsored mythmaking? As contemporary historians delve deeper into the record, the distance between narrative and historical accuracy only widens—and it is precisely within this gap that Andreas Angelidakis positions his work.

His “Anarchaeological Anaparastasis” inhabits a speculative time-space—glowing with playful and subversive critique. Like a disco ball inside Plato’s Cave, the work reflects a liberating perspective on identity, memory, and the stories that shape who we are and where we are headed.

While searching online for queer methodologies in archaeology, Angelidakis encountered the concept of Anarchaeology, a term coined by Michel Foucault. Anarchaeology imagines a kind of epistemological insurrection—a fantastical “anarchy of knowledge” in which every regime of truth, from fake news to national myths, can be unearthed and interrogated.

At the heart of this installation are hybrid, queered artifacts: the ‘Poof Order Columns’—former working souvenirs of the fictional Greek Ministry of Paganism—now re-identify as autonomous works of art that invite touch, play, and public affection. Combining humor, camp aesthetics, and speculative archaeology, Angelidakis transforms the classical column into a living monument—one that resists permanence, authority, and fixed identity while proposing more fluid ways of relating to history and culture.

The work is part of the Onassis Collection. It was commissioned as part of an installation by Onassis Stegi for the "Plásmata 3" exhibition, consisting originally of eight column representations and one metal sign from the imaginary XESPA program.

A forgotten woodland within Pedion tou Areos made a cameo appearance as a makeshift refuge—a ‘crash pad’ for exhausted Poofs and a quiet escape for visitors in need of momentary disappearance. Around them were pre-vandalized signs from the imaginary XESPA program, whimsical garden tools, and a ‘Girlie Pop Pink Lifter’—a mobile, caring camp machine that ensured everything and everyone runs smoothly.