Pavlos Samios, above all, exploits his memory. Even when he escapes from it, he still somehow ends up with it. The surviving images of a graceful childhood are not an alibi but an expressive need. These guide him to the present unity of his work. The painter wants to tell a story and this desire is sacred.
Samios returns to the past as if heavily submerged in moving sand and as if grabbing the last moment of the first, passing picture. The show is finally saved.
Manos Stefanidis