Apodimi Kompania performed last Thursday night at the Thornbury Theatre. It was the third rebetika gig I have been to in the last year and the first that did not feel contrived.

Their performance last Thursday night was a strange examination of apodimia, or immigration.

The Apodimi were established in Melbourne in the 1980s by a group of second and third-generation Greek-Australian university students, studying at the time under renowned rebetika scholar Stathis Gauntlett.

They were soon performing all over Australia and in 1994 were invited by the Greek Government to perform at a festival for expatriate Greeks in Thessaloniki. Since then they have been based in Athens, performing all over Greece and touring regularly to Australia.

The Apodimi appear true to their name, seemingly having battled to find a permanent home.

Their performance last Thursday night was a strange examination of apodimia, or immigration.
In that majestic room in Thornbury there were elderly Greek migrants, the sort of people you would expect to find at a performance of that sort.

They were the first dominoes to fall, a grey-haired couple appearing first on the dance floor at the sound of a lilting nisiotiko.

They danced beautifully and freely, in perfect unison, oblivious to the hundreds of eyes peering at them.
I later learned that one of them was a born and bred Australian named Peter Williams, an apodimo in his own way, who has traveled the world learning Greek dance and now teaches it here.

Then the dominoes fell in quick succession.
Next came a large second and subsequent-generation Greek-Australian cohort who clearly came to dance and perform for the crowd. Their choreography showed that they were clearly members of a dance group but I’m not convinced that they were present by design.

Their youthful enthusiasm showed that the spirit of Greece lives on in the children of the apodimi.
Thirdly, there was an abundance of non-Greeks, or people whose Greek connection goes so far back that it has been forgotten.

“There’s something in the music that pulls me in, something that really attracts me,” said Margaret Chigros, whose father was Greek but for whatever reason never taught his daughter the language.
But her passion was clear.

“The opportunity to see live rebetika music, I wouldn’t miss it,” she said.
Margaret’s friend Sue Crew said that the music was a “lost past” for her. Perplexed I asked her why.
“I was adopted and I’m not sure if my father was Greek or Turkish,” she said.

“But it’s in my blood.”
This thought perfectly encapsulated the spirit of the Apodimi and their music.

Indeed, it did not matter what your background was, the music spoke to you with real passion and fervour.
In an ironic sort of way, the Apodimi made everyone feel right at home.