Elias Dovris

Visual Artist & Educator Born in Larissa in 1989

Studies

Honors graduate of the Department of Visual and Applied Arts, School of Fine Arts
AUTH (2012), with teachers Kyriakos Katsourakis, Xeni Sachini, and Giorgos Tsakiris.

Teaching experience

From 2014 to 2025, I taught art at the M.N. Private Schools Gymnasium.
Raptou in Larissa. From 2016 to 2023, I taught freehand drawing at the tutoring center.
“Politechnon”, preparing candidates for the Panhellenic Examinations and the Schools of Fine Arts. From
In 2023, I co-created with Soultana Hambaki the space "The Atelier" in Larissa — a
painting, teaching, and artistic research workshop.

Artistic activity

My work is in the permanent collection of MIET (Athens). I have participated in student
Biennale, at Art Athina, in group exhibitions in Thessaloniki and other cities in Greece.
In 2025, I completed my first solo exhibition in Larissa.

Artistic statement

I'm not interested in beauty. I'm interested in what's left behind — the traces, the decaying bodies, the forms.
that carry silent sorrow and existential tension. My work revolves around the
escape; not as an act of cowardice, but as a profound inner struggle. I am moved by the moment when
someone dares to break away, to disrupt the familiar, to abandon something that shaped them. And
There, on the fine line between liberation and betrayal, guilt is born — a
A silent cry for continuity, even when there is no destination.
My language is material: I use worn wood, hair, found objects, paint remnants;
everything that has already been lived, everything that has been worn away. I am not interested in the surface, but in the memory that
is incorporated into the material. I create images that do not seek beauty, but truth.
— a truth that often causes embarrassment, fear, or silent emotion. I paint with whatever
remained; not out of necessity, but out of a belief that decay carries more truth than
new.

Fox in a field, 120x43cm, mixed media on wood

1)Tι είναι για σένα τέχνη (πες μας ένα παράδειγμα)?

For me, art is the need to create without external motivation—without purpose, without reward. The only motivation is the vitality that is born within you when you create; the process that matures you, evolves you, brings you closer to yourself. It's like conversing with something deeper, without knowing exactly what it is — but you feel that there, in the act, there is truth. A simple but deeply meaningful example is the nights when I have trouble sleeping — not because of anxiety, but because my mind is racing around a project I've started. I think about how to approach it, where to take it, as if I were silently conversing with it in the dark. And in the morning, I wake up with an almost childlike eagerness; a longing to be in front of it again, like a child eager to play with a new toy.
Είναι αυτή η ζωντάνια της δημιουργίας που με κινεί — κι όταν το έργο αρχίζει να αποκτά μορφή, να αναπνέει, τότε νιώθω μια βαθιά ικανοποίηση. Μια αίσθηση ότι υπάρχω, ότι κάτι μέσα μου βρήκε τον τρόπο να ειπωθεί.

2) What do you want viewers to feel or think when they see your works?

I want the viewer, when standing in front of my works, to feel something stirring inside them—not necessarily to understand, but to remember. To remember those moments when they wanted to leave, to escape, to take a chance; or those when they felt too weak to do so. A job that suffocated them, but gave them security. A relationship that had ended, but they couldn't find the courage to leave. Their family, when they were a teenager, and wanted to get away to find themselves. Or even themselves, when they felt they couldn't stand themselves anymore.

I do not seek to offer answers or redemption. I want to create a space for internal confrontation—a field where escape is not only an act, but also a feeling, a memory, guilt, and hope all at once. If the viewer feels, even for a moment, that the work is looking back at them, then something has happened. Something has been set in motion.

3) Is there any work of yours that you consider decisive for your career? If so, why?

The work that I consider decisive for my career is not a painting, but a space: my studio, "The Atelier." It is not just the place where I create; it is the work that changed me and, in a way, saved me. At a time when family burdens and professional exhaustion had brought me to my knees, both physically and mentally, the Atelier came as a reminder—that I am still creative, that I am not lost.
It's not that I don't love the family I've built; it's that, in my daily routine, I had forgotten myself. My studio reminded me of who I am. It gave me back my space, my time, and my voice. Of course, nothing is built overnight—it takes time, perseverance, and faith. But this space is the most vibrant project for me: a refuge, a starting point, an act of resistance against decay.