And so, I decided to pursue a solo career. To advance in new musical paths and to delve into musical genres such as classical music and jazz, that had up until then been left largely untouched by the Bouzouki. Chiotis had been the first to attempt this; he had even tried playing swing and latin music with his musical instrument. I have admired him since I was a child, and he has always been a great inspiration for me. He helped me define the way in which I determine my musical identity.

“Unfortunately, the Bouzouki does not have the place it deserves in Greece. It’s seen in a steady decline since 1985, overshadowed by the electric guitar, the keyboard and the clarinet. These days, you can find the clarinet everywhere, but the Bouzouki is practically absent. Greek folk music is not what it used to be and I’m not referring to the melodies alone, but the lyrics as well. Music used to praise love, but it did so with inherent dignity.”

I wanted to incorporate the Bouzouki in genres it did not exist before, like in jazz which has a very demanding musical scene. After our concert with Al Di Meola, I started playing across the world. I didn’t want us to simply perform in music bars throughout Greece and give the impression we were experimenting. I knew this instrument could play this music and succeed. I knew it could win over the crowd.

At first, the sound of Bouzouki in jazz concerts, next to a trumpet and a piano, felt odd to the listeners. Most of them associated the Bouzouki with Zorbas, the Greek and folk music. I’d receive all kinds of comments back then, like “this is not Bouzouki”, but those were the stereotypes I was trying to break.