Gavalochori is considered to be the source of kopaneli or bobbin lace making on Crete. The craft consists of a pillow that is called kousouni and small wooden sticks with the threads attached that are called kopanelia.
The craft of bobbin lace dates to the 16th century Europe, but it appeared on Crete between 1906 and 1908. Gavalochori became the center of kopaneli on the island because of a nun who learned the art and helped to spread it. Minodora Athanasaki, who served in the convent of Holy Prodromou in the Korakies neighborhood of Chania, learned bobbin lace making when she attended a school in Athens founded by Queen Olga. When Minodora returned to the convent, she taught bobbin lace making to the other nuns, many of whom were from Gavalochori. They taught it to their relatives when they visited Gavalochori, and the craft then spread to the other villages in the region.
Girls started learning the technique of lace making in Gavalochori as early as the age of four, using a smaller pillow and only four bobbins. Boys were often jealous that the girls were involved in an ancient tradition and were able to learn such a beautiful craft. Christina Koustouraki – Koukoulari, a major figure in the effort to preserve the craft of kopaneli, remembers watching the women make the lace and wanting to learn the craft herself. When she was a young girl, she made tools for herself and tried to make kopaneli lace. She cut a leaf from a prickly pear tree to use as a pillow and cut a branch from a carob tree to make sticks to serve as bobbins. She stole a spool of thread from her mother and wound the thread around the sticks. For the pins she needed to affix the design to the pillow, she cut the thorns from a wild pear tree. Using her makeshift tools, she did her best to make a lace belt for her doll. When her mother, Theodosia Kolivaki-Koustouraki, found her trying to do kopaneli, she decided it was time to teach her how to make the lace.
During the time that Christina was growing up, kopaneli was a household craft in Gavalochori. In her neighborhood, there were at least 10 women ages 20 to 30 who sat on the street and placed their bobbin-lace pillows on the adjacent wall. They sang mantinades, periodically went into their houses to check on the food they were making, and made kopaneli together.
Girls and women went shopping in the village or purchased items from street traders using the lace they had produced as payment. Christina remembers that she bought her first school apron (girls at the time had to wear aprons with white collars to school) with money she earned from making kopaneli doilies while she watched the family’s sheep in the fields.
After finishing school, Christina married and moved to Athens. In the 1970s, Chinese linens were beginning to be imported into Greece, and bobbin lace was losing popularity. To help preserve the handicraft, Christina began teaching kopaneli at the Center of Folk Art and Tradition in Athens in 1982, continuing until 2012.
Christina worked to preserve the craft of kopaneli in other ways as well. In 1985, she published her first book, Cretan Kopaneli, which provided instructions on how to make kopaneli lace; other books followed. In 1990, she and a group of women supporters established an organization to ensure the survival and preservation of kopaneli, Association of Friends for the Continuation and Preservation of Kopaneli. Debbie Koutsika registered the organization in 1994 with the International Bobbin and Needle Lace Organisation (L’Organisation Internationale de la Dentelle au Fuseau et à l’Aiguille or OIDFA), based in France, and Christina and her fellow bobbin-lace artists began attending world conferences to showcase and teach kopaneli lace making. Christina’s lace work has been featured in many exhibitions, and she has been honored with many awards.
A plaque in the main square of Gavalochori celebrates the handicraft of kopaneli. The plaque, which shows a girl making kopaneli lace, was installed in 2006 and was the inspiration of Christina Koustouraki-Koukoulari. The artist Nikos Papoutsakis created the image for the plaque, and Antonia Diamantaki created the sculpture executed in bas-relief from the painting. The plaque contains two mantinades (μαντινάδες), a type of Cretan poem that consists of two lines of 15 syllables each. The mantinades read, “Daughter of Gavalochori, you need hard work and patience to make bobbin lace, as always is required for fine arts” (Mixalis Piperakis) and “The making of bobbin lace in Gavalochori for many years gave a living income to mother and daughter” (Nikolaos Pagonakis).
You can see samples of kopaneli lace and as well as a pillow and bobbins for making the lace in the Folklore Museum in Gavalochori. The wedding dress on the mannequin in the silk-making room is particularly stunning. The dress was made in 1956 completely from kopaneli lace and was made all in one piece on a bobbin—various pieces of the dress were not sewn together as clothes are made today.
Kopaneli lace is available for sale in the artisan shop Το Χελιδόνι (The Swallow) on the main square in Gavalochori. The shop used to be the Women’s Craft Cooperative, which was started in the late 1990s by Sophia Lionakis, a forward-thinking woman from Gavalochori who rode a motorbike at a time when this was something women didn’t do. She designed the cooperative to be a place where the women of Gavalochori could sell products they made, especially their kopaneli lacework. Monica van den Bosch now operates the shop and continues the tradition of the Women’s Craft Cooperative by carrying local products from Gavalochori.
You can sometimes still see kopaneli lace being made. A few women in Gavalochori continue to practice the craft, and they sometimes gather in one of Gavalochori’s public buildings or in front of the Lourakis Mini Market to work together on their lace projects.
The following books and video and audio recordings provide more information about kopaneli lace making:
Three books by Christina Koustouraki-Koukoulari (two in Greek and one in English) are how-to books for making kopaneli lace. The books include photographs of lace, list of the supplies needed to make the lace, instructions on how to wind the bobbins, guides for creating various designs, and summaries of the techniques for making different kinds of lace. These books were scanned and linked to this website with the permission of the author.
The next three links are about the tradition of kopaneli lace making in Gavalochori. The first two connect to videos that were shown in 2010 on the TV show Good Morning on Crete TV. They show women making the lace and sharing information about this traditional handicraft.
The third link below is an audio recording by Christina Koustouraki-Koukoulari by Κάθε Μία Ιστορία telling about her experiences with kopaneli lace making. Christina is the founder of the Association of Friends for the Continuation and Preservation of Kopaneli, and the recording (and transcriptions in Greek and English) are included here with her permission.
Kopaneli Gave Me Life
Christina Koustouraki-Koukoulari
Athens, 2023
When I was the age of 10, I should tell you that in my neighborhood, kopaneli was very well established. It was a household craft. At that time, there were at least 10 women ages 20-30 who would sit on the street and place their “kousounia” (bobbin lace pillows) on the wall. They sang their “mantinades” and would make lace, and periodically, they went into their houses to check on the food they were making.
I would play with their kopaneli sticks and their kopaneli and tangle them up. When they finished their chores, they would give me a little smack: “Christina, you’ve ruined our work!” I loved it. Watching it, I learned how to make kopaneli. Nobody showed me, but by watching the women, I learned how to make the bobbin lace.
But what was I to do if I wanted to make lace myself? One day, I went to our garden and cut a leaf of the prickly pear tree, which is soft. I stole from my mother a spool of thread that she used to weave with. But I also wanted sticks for the kopaneli, so I cut a branch from the carob tree and made sticks on which I then wound the thread from the spool.
Now I needed pins, but I couldn’t steal pins. So I went to the lower field of our garden to a wild pear tree that I knew had thorns. I cut the thorns off. Then I hid under a bush in the threshing circle because I’d stolen the spool, and I knew my mother was going to beat me. So I went and lay down, spread my little legs out in front of me, put the leaf out in front, wrapped the sticks, and made a belt for my doll with the spikes instead of pins. My mother, Theodosia, thought I was lost because I was just a little kid, and she couldn’t find me. So she was calling me: “Jesus, Jesus, where are you?”
My mother found me and saw me trying to make the lace. I was scared because I’d stolen the spool, and I thought she was going to beat me. Instead, my mother—this wonderful person, a woman who was born in 1900 and died in 2000, a hundred years old, who never left the village ever, yet she had an education and passed on to us such a good principles—took me by the hand, went into the house, and told my father, “You need to make a “kousouni” (bobbin lace pillow) for the girl.”
“Why, Theodosia,?” he asked.
“We have to make her a “kousouni” so she can start making kopaneli lace.”
After that, I finished elementary school and went to high school. I bought my first school apron (we had to wear an apron with a white collar) with money I earned from making doilies. I made them by taking my “kousouni” in my arms when I went to the field to watch the sheep. I sat in the field and made lace. In the seventh grade, I also bought my school books and my first pen with the money I made from the doilies I made in the summer. Merchants came from Athens and collected the lace and sold it there.
I finished high school and took my exams in Chania. I then enrolled in the Ariadne School of Home Economics. I finished school and got my degree. Joy! In 1957, I moved to Athens.
Then I met my husband, Stelios, and I was appointed to a government position in 1973. I was appointed to Leonidio of Kynourias. We went to Tripoli so I could sign the contract for the position. In 1974, we got married. I was in love. I couldn’t leave Stelios. Impossible! He said, “Do whatever you want to do. You’re free to keep your job if you wish. I’ll come when I go to the Peloponnese, you come to see me, and so on.” “No,” I said, “I don’t want to, I’m fine.” I didn’t accept the government position, and the job was withdrawn.
We started our life very, very well. But I could see that in the village, Chinese linens were starting to be imported. They were coming from abroad. I didn’t like that at all. And bobbin lace was losing popularity; people didn’t value it as much. Because I was educated with the money I made from weaving, through the value of this art, I didn’t want it to be lost. So what did I think? I decided to go ask for a place to teach bobbin lace in Athens.
I thought I’d start by going to ERT1 (national tv station). I didn’t have any connections there, and I knew no one. What should I do? What should I do? I was watching ERT1, and I was watching Mylonas, who had a show, The Traditional Songs. I thought to myself, “I’m going to go there.” So I went to the gate of ERT and knocked, and they asked me: “Where are you going?”
I said, “To Mr. Mylonas.”
“Do you have an appointment?”
“Yes.”
He let Stelios and me pass, and we went in. Mr. Mylonas was in office number one. I knocked on the door, the door opened, and his secretary was sitting in front. She said to me: “What do you want? Do you have an appointment?”
Before she could say anything, I said to Mr. Mylonas, “Excuse me very much. To tell you the truth I don’t have an appointment. I told a lie to come in and ask a favor.”
“What do you want?” he asked. I said, “I have an art, I want to promote it, I want to teach it. I don’t have people to help me or go anywhere. I ask for two or three minutes on television for people to see me and hear my story. Maybe someone wants to come and learn it.” He replied: “Wait.”
“OK, I’ll wait,” I said. I wasn’t leaving now no matter what.
“We’ll call you on the phone.” I wrote my phone number down. The next day, I got a call, and he said: “Saturday at noon, be here. You’re going to be on Mrs. Sakakou’s show.” Kelly Sakakou. I was so excited! I took with me a handmade tablecloth and some other bobbin-lace items. We made a corner with all this stuff. We sat down, and I went live, asking people if anyone wanted to learn bobbin lace, but nobody called me. Nobody called. So nothing happened from ERT; nothing came out of that show. Bless those people, but nobody was interested.
I read the newspaper, and I saw that the Angeliki Hadjimichali studios were offering classes. So I went. I talked to a teacher, Mrs. Demetra, and I said that I know this art, and I want to show it to the women. She got up, God bless her, and she said to me: “There are no students interested in kopaneli!”
I said, “Excuse me” and left. As I going down the stairs, a woman came up next to me. “My good lady,” she said. “My good lady. I want to learn kopaneli, but come upstairs to the headmistress. Come in the morning.”
Monday morning I was there! I told her my thoughts, and she said “OK!” She got me an appointment at the Cultural Centre of the Municipality of Athens, 50 Akademias Street.
I started in February, 1982, and left in 2012. Thirty years I taught kopaneli there. They weren’t called classes there—they were seminars. They were six-month seminars. Kopaneli, my dear ladies and gentlemen, is not learned in six months. It takes years to learn kopaneli.
One of my students at that time—she has passed away now—Zoe Terlexis, told me: “Listen, Christina, we’ll make an association, and the women will come there.” “And how are we going to make the association? We have nothing,” I asked. “Don’t worry!” she said: “All the expenses will be mine.”
I gathered the people I knew would support me. There really are women from that time who are still board members. We got the women together and made the bylaws. We had to put a name on the bylaws before we gave them to the accountant, so we decided to meet at a taverna to come up with a name for the association. I suggested we should name it Penelope or Cleo, and so on. But then the other women, who had already come to an agreement without me, spoke up and said, “Who did we learn bobbin lace from? From Mrs. Christina! So the club will be called Christina.” I was very, very moved.
Kopaneli—the Cretan kopaneli—was no longer known. It has a kinship as we see it with the Russian kopeli. I don’t know how it came down to Crete. I know that in 1908, Olga—Queen Olga—came down to Korakies, and she saw that the nuns were poor. But they had a loom, they had gardens, and they did whatever they could to survive. She took a nun, Minodora Athanasaki, and brought her to Athens. Then there was a school here with 300 pupils that the queen had at that time, and Minodora learned kopaneli. She then returned to Crete, to Korakies, and in this monastery, there were seven nuns from my village, from Gavalochori. So the root of the Cretan kopaneli is considered to be Gavalochori.
Debbie Koutsika registered us in 1994 with the World Lace Organization (OIDFA), based in France, and from there on we started going to world conferences. I must tell you that we have attended 12 conferences, we have gone abroad, and we have been very much recognized.
I must say that all my progress and all my creations over all these years I owe to the support of my husband. We did not have children. When we learned that there would be no children, we turned the page and said that we would live as God wanted us to live, and that’s really how it happened. All those conferences I told you about: He sent me with all his love, with all his soul.
I am very, very happy because the classes I was teaching at Hadjimihali are still going, and I’m still going to the club to this day. Stelios will never tell me not to go. He tells me, “Go, get up and go. If you’re well, go. Is it Thursday? Go, go, do your lesson. Just don’t be late.” His only words now are, “Just don’t be late.” If my husband were bothered by me going to class, I would enjoy my peace and quiet and my house, but I would be unhappy, whereas now I am happy. I am full, I am content, and that is great. Great value in life to say you are full. I did what I wanted to do, and he understood me.
I had a dream, and I believe I achieved it. I had a dream. I know I am leaving behind knowledge of kopaneli so that it remains. It’s history, it’s art, it must stay. Let the children see it and learn it.
This is the art I’ve loved since I was a little girl, and it’s given me life. It gave me value. Art gave me value. That’s what I need to emphasize. If I hadn’t made this art, I’d be nothing. Do you understand that? But I found the right person, and he helped me, and I was able to make all this happen. I can’t say anything else.
Story by: Καθε Μια Ιστορία
