When I first came to this country, they didn't allow me to keep my name. Ioanna is too hard to pronounce, they said. And that's how I became Joanne.
I was born in Limnos, a small island in Greece. Just 6 years of age when my parents brought our family here to New York.
Limnos was a lovely place, but it was all homogenous, all the same. Our family had nothing. No electricity, no running water, so of course there wasn’t a TV around to show me what else was out there, to expose me to the joys of traveling and seeing the world.
But even though I knew nothing of the outside world, I was born with something ingrained in me that loved to travel. A calling to venture out to new places, meet their people, learn their culture, be part of their world and see what they see.
Ever since I was a little baby, I always knew I wanted to travel. So when my parents decided to go to America, I didn't feel afraid. I was joyous to leave that little island.
❝Ioanna was too hard to pronounce, they said. And that's how I became Joanne.❞
Coming to New York from a very poor family, we had no money. No question about it, I’d have to work very hard to afford my dream.
Every day after school, while other kids were out socializing and enjoying their free time, I was working to save up every last cent that I could. And the second school was out for summer break, I took that money and roamed around the world.
I started taking photographs at around 12-14 years of age. Throughout my years exploring new worlds, I continued capturing more and more beautiful moments on film. So I started traveling the country, going to different art shows to display my work.
But the more I put myself out there, the more susceptible I became to critique...
To this day, I still get critics all the time. People will actually come up to me and say “Why are you doing this? I can’t believe you’re using that image.”
I never listen to the critics, though, because I know for a fact that they’re wrong. I’ve been to dozens of shows over the years. I have tested it, and I know there’s always going to be someone who falls in love with the piece. Maybe not today or tomorrow or next month, but there is always at least one person who connects with that image.
You just never know what will speak to someone.
❝You just never know what will speak to someone.❞
One of my very first art shows in Florida, I displayed close-up photos of padlocks. To some, it may seem like nothing more than some old locks strung up on a wire.
But then I met the couple that was meant for this piece...
They were a military couple that had just retired. They told me that on their last tour together, they went to Paris and walked across the famous Love Lock Bridge. To them, it represented such a lovely, romantic memory in their lives that would stay with them forever.
It makes me happy to have someone enjoy a work of art that truly speaks to them.
To some, it was just a snapshot of old padlocks. But to that couple, it was a core memory that defined their love, their relationship, and the sacrifices they made for our country.
There’s always someone who will love a piece, and I know that what inspires me will inspire somebody else. The trick is getting my work out there, casting a wide net so I can find the perfect match for every last photograph.
And yes, the more I travel to different shows, the more critics I come across, but I never listen to them. There is nothing anyone could say that would stop me from doing what I love, traveling the world and capturing all the beauty I see around me.
My favorite type of work that I do is underwater micro-photography. The ocean is the number one thing that has always made me happy. For as long as I can remember, whenever I felt sad as a little girl I’d just go swimming or diving in the ocean. It's always brought me joy and comfort.
That's what inspired me to take my lens underwater. I go scuba diving and capture the tiniest of creatures that no one can see with the naked eye.
I mean, look at this little guy! That fish is no bigger than the tip of a pencil. But look at his adorable eyes – and that face! These creatures are so beautiful, they’re so precious.
By diving underwater and getting as close as I can to these little creatures, I've discovered that even in the tiniest bit of coral, there’s life, there’s hope, there’s dreams. If I can capture that and show that to the world, it creates a deep awareness that the whole survival of this earth depends on how we depict it, how we portray it, and how we show respect for it.
For me, it’s part of the circle of life. It just shows that we are all connected. I love to bring that beauty out even for people who can’t see it. I think my eye can bring it out to everyone, and I dream of one day showing millions of people what I see through my lens.
❝I go scuba diving and capture the tiniest of creatures that no one can see with the naked eye.❞
I remember one show in particular, a woman sat in the middle of my tent for over 20 minutes, just looking at a photograph and crying.
It was a close-up image of a textile. To most passersby, it was just a bright, colorful image. But there was more meaning to it: the layers and the stitching symbolized generations of family lineage dating back thousands of years.
Not everyone recognized the symbolism in that image, but that one woman did. That was part of her culture, and it meant the world to her.
“Why are you crying?” I asked. And she told me, “This is home for me. It speaks to me.”
That’s what inspires me. To have people all around the country enjoy my art and feel that sense of home within them, it gives me joy and it brings me peace.
I believe the art finds the people, or the people find the art, whichever one comes first.
I love to show the beauty of our natural world the way I see it, full of color and life, full of hope for people who don’t have it. And that’s what I believe my art does for them.
Regardless of any obstacles in my way, I feel a moral obligation to share my art with the world. Not just for myself, or for others to enjoy, but for the betterment of the earth.
How much kinder would we treat our planet if more people saw the same hope and joy that I see in these tiny creatures?
I believe art can change you. It goes into your spirit and makes your soul more gentle, kinder, better. Maybe it’s enlightenment. But I believe the more people are exposed to art, the better we would treat ourselves and our planet.
Whenever I go to one of these shows, I watch how people react to my art, I see then and there how it changes them...
❝I have discovered that even in the tiniest bit of coral, there's life, there's hope, there's dreams.❞
But it’s not just about finding the perfect work of art, it’s also about finding and realizing something within ourselves.
For me, my art made me realize that in the past, I’d always belonged to someone else. When I was born in Greece, I belonged to my father. When I was married, I belonged to my husband.
That's why I’ve decided to change my name.
Originally, in Greece I was “Ioanna.” But when I came to this country, I was given the name “Joanne.”
Now, I am choosing to call myself by a different name altogether: Yana.
To me, Yana represents a blend of my Greek and American heritage, but on my terms, by my choice. Yana is a name I gave to myself as opposed to a label that was given to me.
Now that I belong to no one but myself, I am free to pursue my real dream of going all the way and taking my work international.
This means everything to me, because maybe there’s a little girl on some small, homogenous island or village somewhere. A little girl with no running water, no electricity, no TV to expose her to all the possibilities that are out there. Maybe, like me, that little girl was also born with the longing to travel and to explore other worlds.
That’s why I must go all the way. The bigger the stage, the better my chances of finding her. Because if I don’t expose her to all the hope, the joy, the possibilities that await her, then who will?