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Good evening.
Another year finds me here, as if enlisted long ago, on a direct assignment from Loudovikos, standing with you on the first day of this year’s gathering.
UPRIGHT SOIL—two words that, like a single image, form a bridge between origin and destination, with the Human as the common traveler in the cycle of life.
This year’s title draws me personally into the realm of etymology and into the anatomy of the HUMAN: the upright metronome, standing like a giant or a dwarf between two shores—the material substance of the soil that stands tall, and the immaterial dimension of an idea, a story, a lived experience.
And you know, etymology always holds stories within it—and these stories are like an excavation in each person’s inner ground.
There are three paths toward the root and meaning of the word “human.”
The first, the most widespread yet philologically weaker, suggests that the human stands upright in order to rise from the ground—a first act of dominance over the earth.
The second, linguistically stronger (even if it challenges certain currents of our time), connects the human to the “appearance of man.”
The third—and perhaps the most beloved—leads us to Socrates and to Plato’s Cratylus, where the human is described as the only being who “reflects upon what he has seen,” who observes with deep attention what lies before him.
Thus, our elder Socrates offers humanity the understanding that the word “human” describes a living organism that differs from animals in the way it uses mind, speech, and creation—poetry in word and in action.
Whichever path we follow in search of its root, the Human, from the very beginning, is born seeking protection, turning toward a creator. And in doing so, becomes a creator as well—seeking in the earth, in nature, the very elements of creation.
And just before—or just after—this search, there comes the moment of CRACK: the moment when our prehistoric ancestor breaks a piece of wood or crushes a stone, hearing the sound he himself has caused. In that instant, he realizes the power that flows from mind to hand—the ability, through observation and repetition, to create a tool, a vessel, a weapon that transforms his once static daily life.
In that deep yet still present past within our memory, the human composes and stores his first code of instructions: an algorithm of the mind, inscribed on the hard drive of the brain, shaped by everything he observes around him—the imprint of consciousness.
This code runs through the human-creator—from nourishment to protection, from bread to shelter, in a life beyond caves. Perhaps it was then that the first great impulse of civilization emerged—before nations and borders—a leap into what we might call the revolution of technique.
A first revolution of consciousness that taught us how soil, grain, and stone are bound by the same craft of transformation, giving rise to vessels, bread, and the dwellings of human culture.
Thus, the human left his imprint—and in his footsteps came us, following the same orbit: a mixture of stardust with origin in the universe, grounded in the earth, eyes toward the sky, stance upon the soil that stands tall, yet with a constant destination—evolution.
An evolution traced through marks, signs, and remnants of humanity—of the human who became monument, and of the monument that became mountain.
And perhaps, in the end, the mountain itself is the upright soil—the soil that stands tall—a giant upon whose shoulders we stand, we the clever dwarfs who raise our stature to see farther.
We, humans—Galeano would say—across all ages and all points on the map, as children of time, are made of living matter and stories, of events and days that explore life.
In this exploration of the unexpected, the human stands upright—like an athlete on the springboard of escape—from the soil to what lies beyond, from the born to the unborn, and from the decay of the body to the incorruptibility of the soul.
Eduardo Galeano, Οι μέρες Αφηγούνται, μετάφραση Ισμήνη Κανσή, Εκδόσεις Πάπυρος, 2012.
Dimitra Catapoti & Maria Relaki, “Why the Neolithic is (r)evolutionary,” Journal of Material Culture, 2020.
Plato, Κρατύλος – Περί των Ονομάτων Ορθότητος, μετάφραση Γιώργος Κεντρώτης, Εκδόσεις Gutenberg, Athens, 2013.