Esther van der Heijden – Visual Artist
O Choros tou Michanikou, 2025
[work in progress]

two-screen video installation, 9 minutes
conducted interviews, archival footage, self-shot video, sound, narration

Supported by Amsterdams Fonds voor de Kunst (AFK) and het Mondriaan Fonds. 

Exhibitions:
- 25-05-2025 - Official Afterparty Art Week Amsterdam // Open Studios - ISO
- 15 t/m 17-07-2025 - crackle, shudder, swoooosh - groupshow 
- 21 t/m 23-11-2025 - De Bouwput Amsterdam

For centuries, Kalymnian men have descended beneath the sea in search of sponges. Initially, they dove naked, using only the smooth stone—the skandalopetra—tied to a rope for guidance. These unarmored dives rarely exceeded 25–30 meters, and the stone’s hydrodynamic shape let divers touch the sea almost as if they were part of it.

In the 1850s, the arrival of the Standard Diving Dress, or skafandro, marked a turning point in sponge diving. The helmet, fed by surface-supplied air, became central to a growing industry eager to extract more from the sea. Now encased in a protective shell, the diver could reach new depths—and harvest sponges previously out of reach. But with greater depth came greater risk. Without understanding how pressure and gas affect the body, thousands of Kalymnian men suffered paralysis, pain, or death. Between 1886 and 1910, an estimated 40% of these “mechanics”—as the hard-hat divers were called—either died or became permanently disabled.
Though the economic demand for sponges (for hygienic/medicinal/industrial purposes) fueled this industrial expansion, the divers themselves were often exploited laborers, pressured by owners and middlemen to push beyond safe limits. The shift from the skandalopetra to the skafandro not only transformed the dive physically but marked a rupture in the relationship between humans and the sea. Diving with the skandalopetra was an organic practice—immersed in the natural world and respectful of the body’s limits—while the skafandro turned divers into cogs in an industrial machine, equipped with technology but vulnerable to its deadly consequences.

In 1952, physical educator Theofilos Klonaris choreographed O Choros tou Michanikou to honor the island’s sponge diving heritage and the immense hardships endured by its divers. The lead dancer embodies a disabled former sponge diver, trembling and crippled by “the bends,” leaning heavily on his cane. But as the music slowly builds, he finds strength, discards his cane, and transforms the dance into one of resilience and pride. This performance is both a tribute to the divers’ perseverance and a protest that exposes the silent, often invisible toll their labor exacted.

Decompression sickness, or “the bends,” occurs when a diver ascends too rapidly. Under pressure, gases—especially nitrogen—dissolve into the body’s tissues. If the ascent is too quick, these gases form bubbles that block blood vessels, inflame tissues, and disrupt the nervous system. This causes joint pain, paralysis, confusion, loss of vision, and can rupture the lungs. Sponges themselves—porous colonies of cells that filter seawater—offer a powerful metaphor for the diver’s body. Just as sponges absorb and cycle nutrients, divers’ lungs, bloodstreams, and bones become permeable to gases under pressure. The deeper the dive, the more the human body becomes like a sponge: open, absorptive, and defined by saturation.

The disabled diver in O Choros tou Michanikou embodies the tragic transformation that occurs when the human body is forced to adapt to the ocean’s demands.  


stills