Guardian lauds Greek priest with a taste for metal guitar

The article centres on the apparent contradiction between Tabakis' vocation and his music. The Greek Orthodox Church has traditionally viewed secular instruments—particularly the electric guitar—with suspicion, often associating them with worldly or even satanic influences. Tabakis rejects that interpretation, arguing that music itself is a divine creation.

To him, instruments are simply different ways of expressing God's creation rather than threats to religious devotion. He believes the electric guitar has been unfairly demonised within the Church and hopes to change those perceptions.

Despite his newfound fame, Tabakis remains deeply committed to his priesthood. He serves in the Church of the Nativity of the Theotokos in Nafplio, has been married for more than three decades, and has three children. He regularly makes pilgrimages to Mount Athos and speaks admiringly of ascetic monks and humble priests, describing them as the true spiritual models. He considers his own musical talents comparatively "showy."

Born in Piraeus in 1972, Tabakis describes a childhood marked by poverty. He reveals that his parents attempted to abort him twice, but both attempts failed because the doctor was unavailable. He sees this as part of divine providence and says the Virgin Mary has guided both his life and his unexpected musical success.

His cultural identity is equally important. His family descended from Greek refugees who fled Smyrna after the city's destruction in 1922, and he believes Byzantine culture is deeply embedded in his identity.

His fascination with music began in childhood through Byzantine church music. Over the years he taught himself to play a remarkable range of traditional instruments, including the cümbüş, kabak kemane, yayli tanbur, zurna, ney flute and several types of lyre. During the interview he enthusiastically demonstrates subtle differences between multiple versions of the ney flute, illustrating his passion for musical exploration.

Tabakis only began recording his own compositions about four years ago. His son introduced him to music production software, while an upstairs neighbour taught him guitar. Vocals were provided by a young parishioner, Evgenia Simela Armeni, who recorded her parts using nothing more than her mobile phone in her university apartment.

Initially, he uploaded the songs to YouTube with no ambitions of becoming famous.

His modest YouTube channel eventually caught the attention of Nikolas Rafael, founder of the independent Thessaloniki record label Elhellell, who contacted him after discovering his music. Rafael describes Tabakis as refreshingly original in an industry where "everyone is a copy of a copy."

The resulting album, Paradise Metal, defies categorisation. Songs combine Byzantine chanting with heavy guitars, electronic beats and even rap. One standout track, Techno in a Monastery, opens with the phrase "Are you ready?" before launching into liturgical chanting over dark electronic rhythms.

Tabakis says experimentation lies at the heart of his artistic philosophy.

He also offers an unusual interpretation of the word "metal," linking it etymologically to exploration and discovery.

The album contains moments of social commentary as well. One song, Dubai Paei ("Bye, Dubai"), was inspired by conflict in the Middle East and imagines the evacuation of the wealthy Gulf city as a modern-day Babylon, becoming a satire on materialism and the emptiness of wealth.

Surprisingly, despite being a priest, the record is not overtly evangelical. Tabakis explains that his decision to include rap was an attempt to communicate with younger generations whose language and culture differ from those of older churchgoers.

His own family reflects those generational differences. His children are not especially religious, and his daughter, a tattooed photographer living in Athens, has chosen a very different path. Tabakis says he never tried to impose either religion or music upon them.

Within the Church, reactions to his success have been muted. He says fellow priests have largely remained silent, something he sees as positive. He also hints that some members of the clergy are too concerned with status and power rather than spiritual service.

For Tabakis, however, there is no contradiction between artistic creativity and religious faith.

Creating beauty, whether through traditional chant or distorted electric guitar, is simply another way of honouring God.

Although Paradise Metal has brought him unexpected international recognition, Tabakis has no intention of abandoning the priesthood for a music career. He insists that his primary calling remains the Church.

Asked whether he plans to perform live, he responds with characteristic poetic humour, comparing himself to "a fish taken out of the water for a walk." Public performances make him uncomfortable, he admits, but if his music brings joy to others, he is willing to consider them.

Ultimately, The Guardian presents Father Dionysios Tabakis as a singular figure: a deeply traditional Orthodox priest whose experimental music challenges assumptions about faith, art and modern culture, while remaining firmly rooted in his religious vocation.