Harris Alexiou was moved by the eulogy for Marinella: At my first audition I passed with your song and now I was called to speak about your graces, here in front of you (video)

Harris Alexiou, very moved and with a trembling voice, said goodbye to her beloved Marinella, delivering a eulogy at the Metropolis of Athens, during the funeral of the great singer.

“That’s where you chose to sing a capella,” Harris Alexiou began to say in her eulogy for Marinella, referring to her last performance at the Herodeion, where she collapsed on stage due to a stroke.

“You closed your eyes and never sang to us again, even though your heart was still beating. But the people wouldn’t let you go. All of Greece is talking about you and the singers of the country are here to honour you,” Harris Alexiou also said

“All of Hellenism, which is inhabited in all latitudes and longitudes, is talking about you,” she noted.

“They call you an iconic singer, a mother, a friend, an excellent colleague, they talk about your humour and your grit,” she added, obviously moved.

“A friend said anyone who wasn’t hugged by Marinella and anyone whose hand didn’t reach out to her understood nothing of her love,” she went on to say.

“Marinella my great captain, (…) at my first audition I passed with your song. For those who worked with you you were a gift of great value. You have filled us with wealth, my lady, do you understand? “, revealed Harris Alexiou immediately afterwards.

“Top and sometimes humble,” she further stressed about Marinella in her eulogy.

“I had a party at my house one day and you walked in like a queen with a plastic paper crown…

I loved you laughing, chatting, singing and loving a lot,” Harris Alexiou concluded her speech about Marinella.

The entire eulogy

At the Herodes Atticus Conservatory. The Herodeion. Where every Greek and foreign artist longs to perform. In the shadow of the Acropolis, in the shadow of the Parthenon. There you have chosen, Marinella, our lady, to sing your farewell with hats on. You left the last drop of your voice on the altar of the Herodion. You closed your eyes and never sang to us again. Though your heart was still beating. But the people who loved you wouldn’t let you go. They wouldn’t let you leave them. Wait till you came back, because that’s how you knew it. To play with it, with your “go”, “yes”, “come”.

All of Greece is talking about you. And the country’s singers are here to honour you. And not just your fellow singers, but your fellow actors, your directors, your set designers, your musicians, your sound engineers, your lighting designers, your dancers, your producers, your seamstresses, your make-up artists, your hairdressers, your maids, your journalists and the entire political world of the country. All the Hellenism that inhabits the length and breadth of the globe and that you have conquered it too, speaks of you.

They speak words of truth, of worship. They call you an iconic singer. Many call you a mother, they call you a friend, they call you an extraordinary colleague. They call you generous, a teacher, an eternal voice, a woman of grit. They talk about your sense of humor, your caring for the weak and the gratitude felt by those who have known you. And the younger ones, for what you taught them.

A friend said: “Whoever Marinella didn’t hug and whoever she didn’t shake hands with, felt nothing of her love.” But your light was also received from great distances.

My Marinella… captain. That voice… from what crystal spring was it born? Today I am doing something I never imagined I would do. At my first audition I passed with your song. And now I am called by your child to speak of your graces, here before you and before so many of your loved ones who have lived and shared so much more.

To those who have worked with you, you have been a gift of great value. You have enriched us with precious memories, lady. Do you understand that? I remember our tribute to Vicki Moscholiou. There were ten of us singers and we had you on top. What a beauty you were! I remember you at the Olympic ceremony, opening your arms as if you wanted to fly. And there, top of the line. Top and humble.

I had a party at my house one day and I remember you walked in like a queen, wearing a gold paper crown and holding a plastic diadem for me, because I was going to be your princess. We hugged and laughed a lot. And that’s how we all want to remember you. Laughing, in that crystal voice, and being our queen.

Because you loved to laugh so much, Marinella. To laugh, to chat, to sing and to love. To love a lot.