A craftsman's pride
By Maria Scrivani; photo by kc kratt

Christos Leontaritis
In more ways than one, Christos Leontaritis works for himself.

He’s a one-man renovation crew, a guy who can paint, install flooring, repair plaster, wallpaper, build custom cabinets—and yes, he does windows. But the real reward for this master craftsman is highly personal; it’s the satisfaction he finds in a job well done. “I am proud of my work,” he says quietly. It’s his family heritage, really, skills learned as a boy by his father’s side back in Greece. The hard work ethos, the pride in precision, was instilled way back when he would really rather have been kicking around a soccer ball like the other kids.

“In summer and during school vacations, I helped my father, a ceramic tile installer, on his jobs,” says Leontaritis, who moved here two decades ago with his Buffalo-born wife. Though he admits he grew to hate that particular kind of work, with what were clearly unfavorable working conditions for a boy (“It was a very low-paying job, working for your father,” he says dryly), the life lessons he learned were invaluable. “I really didn’t know much English when I first came here, except for restaurant words,” he recalls. Soon he was learning the vocabulary of a laborer, having signed on with a construction crew at a Marriott hotel in Amherst. It was a situation where someone could show him what to do, effective even when the language of instruction is unfamiliar.

Leontaritis was a quick study, acquiring new work skills and expanding his English exponentially. He watched classic movies to improve his speech, and listened to the radio. NPR is still his choice for listening when on a job, which explains his fascination with, and strong opinions on, American politics. “When I first went to work here, it wasn’t easy, but whatever they asked me to do, I’d do it. I was always the first one to arrive for work in the morning.” His father would have tolerated no less. By the time the job, which was supposed to be a forty-five-day stint, had ended, Leontaritis was offered a permanent place. He found that he was especially suited to detail work. Always a good math student (“My father used to call me ‘Pythagoras’ back in Greece,” he recalls, referencing the ancient Greek philosopher and mathematician), he also discovered that he had an artistic side. “I didn’t know I could draw until I did a sketch for some kitchen cabinets,” he says. Those skills mesh in his true passion, custom carpentry work. What he most loves is the challenge of creating something in wood to fit a specific need—a blank closet wall, for instance, transformed for a customer into what he calls “Cinderella’s closet”—floor-to-ceiling angled shelves for maximum shoe storage.

These days Leontaritis works on his own, calling in reinforcements for bigger jobs, like drywalling a ceiling, and for the few he does not do well. “Except for minimal work—changing a fixture, for example—I don’t do plumbing, and I don’t do electrical. I’ve gotten zapped too many times!” His artist persona is often called upon by clients dithering over the maddening array of paint possibilities. He can zero in on the right color and the best combinations; like a natural-born diplomat in the often-tense family theater of home renovation, he merely suggests a solution. Longtime customers know he’s always right. Who are those customers? Leontaritis is discreet about where he works. Suffice to say it’s all over town, and his handiwork is evident in some of the finest homes. He has managed to support his family, including one daughter in college and another studying and performing ballet, and now lives comfortably in the Amherst home where he’s done some of the work of which he is most proud.

Never has he strayed from the humble hard work lessons learned so long ago. When he finishes a job, he makes sure the worksite is left broom-clean. “I still remember my father telling me, ‘When you leave the house, the lady of the house should never have to pick up a broom,’” he says. His parents and a sister still live in Greece, and Christos Leontaritis may join them in retirement someday, still pretty far down the road for this fit forty-something-year-old.

You can’t argue with contentment in a career. He likes what he does, especially when he gets to create “something you can’t buy in a store.” Not one to tolerate the confinement of an office job, he says he likes the variety of work, and the scheduling of his own time, even with its uncertainties. “I can’t tell you what I’m doing next month, but I will definitely be working.” The pleasure is all his, he says, though his customers are also well satisfied. “People I’ve worked for know the quality of my work and they trust me,” he says. In these times when shoddy service has become the norm, Leontaritis often hears, when presenting a bill, “Are you sure you charged enough?”

Christos Leontaritis can be reached at 228-0534.

Writer Maria Scrivani is a native of Buffalo with an interest in local history and people who make a difference.



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