A Day in Naxos, Greece with Designer Anjelica Christon

Anjelica at the 17th Century Olive Press at Kambones. Photograph by Alex Pappas.

Anjelica is a 4th generation Greek-American who recently left her job as an architectural designer in San Francisco to move to Greece. With a background in residential and hospitality design, she’s interested in the Ancient Greek notion of philoxenia (φιλοξενία) —the love of strangers — that characterizes her cultural upbringing and welcoming homeland.

A graduate of Cornell’s architecture program, she designed custom single-family residences and hotels across the San Francisco Bay Area and Hawai’i for 10 years before leaving for Greece to form a deeper connection with her roots. She believes in equity, contextualism, and a responsible approach to the cultural landscape in which she practices. Anjelica’s day involves visits to historic sites throughout the island of Naxos, exploration of local beaches and mountain villages, and research into the ancient craftsmanship and building techniques that are still alive in Greece today.

7:00am: I wake up at the olive farm I’ve been calling home for the last few weeks in Mili, a small village about fifteen minutes inland from the port of Naxos. I’ve never felt like a morning person but there’s nothing like the bray of a donkey echoing through a valley to spring your day into motion. I also recently adopted a stray kitten, so getting him fed and cared for has been the best motivation to start the day.

7:30am: I tend to go for a morning walk through the olive trees on my way to the main road. Depending on the day, I might help with farm tasks ranging from gardening to feeding the donkeys or helping with small construction projects. One of the most inspiring aspects of this property is its preservation of historic Venetian architecture including a stone water mill, cistern or “stérna” to collect the local spring water, and dry stone retaining walls forming the stepped terraces or “anavathmídes” on which the olive trees are planted. I’m grateful each time I walk through these structures, and they’ve been a key part of my architectural education when it comes to the historic vernacular here in the Cyclades.

8:30am: It’s not a proper morning in Greece without coffee, and since moving here it’s become a sacred daily ritual. Greek coffee is notoriously strong so a little goes a long way. My favorite spot to enjoy a cup has been the dining room balcony at Kambones, a 17th century Venetian home in the neighboring village of Kourounochori that I’ve been lucky enough to do some work in during my time in Naxos. I typically use this time in the morning to practice my conversational Greek on an app until I enroll in more structured lessons.

One of my most ambitious goals for this move was to become fluent in Greek and I’ve recently reached a point where I’m familiar enough with the alphabet to begin to read. While it helps to practice alone, the majority of my language education has taken place in casual conversation with strangers, who immediately teach me a phrase or test my slang after hearing my story. These interactions go a long way in making me feel like I belong here and have a community rooting for me, which is a special feeling.

9:00am: My work at Kambones has included photography of the the building’s restoration and documentation of historic family heirlooms belonging to the property—from embroidered textiles to intricate bobbin lace sewing patterns used by the Ursuline School in Naxos, one of the first schools in Greece allowing women access to a higher education. Getting to know the story of this property has reminded me of my own great-grandmother, who sewed beautiful clothing with ornate detail for her family after immigrating to the U.S. Her skill and resourcefulness was an example of one of the countless cultural contributions made by Greek women of that time despite being confined to the domestic sphere.

10:00am: After taking a few weeks to get settled here in Greece, I dedicate at least a few hours of each day to my job search. Transitioning my career to another country has been a challenge in many ways—from the language barrier to learning the local building code—but I try to chip away at these tasks little by little. After saving up during COVID to be able to afford to travel and take time off, I still get moments of anxiety and the occasional “what am I doing” moment. I fight that negative self-talk by taking some time each day to plant seeds for my professional future and sit in the discomfort of uncertainty about what that looks like.

12:00pm: As late morning hits, I prepare for one of the day’s outings, a visit to a nearby marble quarry. One of the most fascinating parts about the Cyclades is the architectural variation you find between islands. I’ve been researching the traditional building methods and materials here in Naxos and immediately became interested in the island’s marble. Ranging from a cloudy white to very light gray, Naxian marble is known for its quality and abundance, having been used on ancient monuments at the Athenian Acropolis, Olympia, Epidavros, and of course Naxos itself. The quarry I’m visiting is owned by the Karpontinis family, who generously led me through the quarry and explained the geological and ethnographic history of marble on the island. Having specified marble across many of my past projects, it’s been meaningful to see the full process of extraction, fabrication, and installation firsthand across one island.

2:00pm: Another element of my education on Naxian marble has been through sculpture. Naxos has historically drawn countless artists who carry on the ancient tradition and propel the art form forward in meaningful ways. Visiting workshops of artists like Ingbert Brunk, Tom and Priska von Kaenel of Kalodromo, and Giannis Karpontinis of TILL10, made me appreciate the material’s tonality, texture, and relationship with light.

Visit to the Kalodromo Marble Workshop and Sculpture Garden.

4:00pm: I continue my day by networking with organizations and workshops across various islands in the region. My interest in traditional building techniques has led me to find a bounty of organizations dedicated to preserving and sharing historic knowledge for trades like dry stone wall construction, lime washing, natural plasters, and carpentry.

I feel like it’s my responsibility as an architect in this country to do my homework on the local vernacular before inserting my own ideas into such a layered cultural space. The fact that not all of these lasting vestiges are grand monuments but often modest homes, farm terraces, windmills, pigeon houses, etc. has also been a learning moment for me. Greek people have an amazing resourcefulness and DIY spirit, and it’s helped me take myself less seriously as an architect. You’ll often find people working on their own homes or landscape projects here in scenarios where you’d see a heavy reliance on a licensed architect or contractor in the US. This attitude reminds me of one of my favorite books, Architecture Without Architects by Bernard Rudofsky, which pays tribute to the regional architecture performed by members of a local community that’s often dismissed as untrained and accidental, growing beyond the narrow definition of architecture that we’re taught in school.

5:00pm: In late afternoon as the sun gets less intense, I enjoy going to the beach at golden hour for a swim, or taking my camera and sketchbook to Chora, the island’s largest town, to explore and sketch. Taking time off and moving to a new environment has allowed me to get back in touch with the more artistic aspects of architecture that originally drew me to the profession. Saving up for a few years to carve out time for this experience has given me an important creative refresh in my career and thinking.

6:30pm: I recently joined a traditional Greek dance group with some friends, and we practice twice per week at the local elementary school. After two hours of sweating profusely and pretending to understand what the instructor is saying, I’m ready to head to the local taverna for dinner. On evenings not spent in dance class, I’m almost always situating myself someplace where I can enjoy the sunset. Sunsets on Greek islands are famous for a reason, and I love the silhouettes of Naxos’ mountainous skyline at this time of day. Another personal favorite evening activity is attending a classical guitar concert performed at Kambones’ historic olive press.

Sketching Scene at the Temple of Apollo in Chora.

9:00pm: Greek dinners are much later than I’m used to in the US, so I’ve learned to turn on my energy reserves when night rolls around. Taverna culture is one of my favorite elements of the Greek lifestyle. On any given night, you find a cross-section of locals across generations who gather to drink, eat, smoke, and banter until the wee hours of the morning. One of my favorite local spots is appropriately named Filarakia, or Buddies, which is exactly who you find there.

12:00am: By midnight, I’m back at the farm, winding down for the evening with my kitten, and catching up with my family back home in San Francisco. With a time difference of ten hours, you take advantage of any time you can get. At the end of most days, I feel physically exhausted and emotionally full—the signs of a day well spent.