The Genius Loci, Master of the Arts

Lectio Doctoralis held for the awarding of the Honorary Doctorate in Architecture by the University of Campania “Luigi Vanvitelli”

From left, Prof. Arch. Alessandra Cirafici, Rector of the University of Campania Prof. Gianfranco Nicoletti, Rector of the University of Perugia Prof. Maurizio Oliviero, Brunello Cucinelli, Minister of University and Research of the Italian Republic Hon. Anna Maria Bernini, Rector of the University of Naples Parthenope Prof. Antonio Garofalo, Rector of the University of Naples L’Orientale Prof. Roberto Tottoli, Prof. Ornella Zerlenga, Director of the Department of Architecture and Industrial Design

Caserta, 3 april 2025

Most Honourable Rector, Rectors of other universities, Deans, Professors, distinguished authorities, and dear friends, whose presence enhances the joy of this day, I thank you wholeheartedly.

My origins lie in rural life—a condition deeply intertwined with nature. From nature, I learned the laws of Creation and the language of the Genius Loci (Spirit of the Place), which were my first guides in understanding the relationship between nature, art, and beauty, as well as that way of living in accordance with nature so cherished by my esteemed Greek masters.

In the farmhouse in the countryside of Castel Rigone, where I spent my beautiful and sweet childhood, I learned to “live in harmony with Creation.”

We tilled the land with animals, we had no electricity, yet the sky and the stars became my first source of inspiration. I grew up with my feet firmly on the ground but my gaze ever turned towards the heavens.

My first steps towards human thought were taken years later, when, at a cafè —my university of life—I met friends with whom I began to discuss Kant.

That marked the beginning of my journey as a passionate student of philosophy. One of Kant’s thoughts, above all, guided me towards the path I so ardently wished to follow: “Act in such a way that you treat humanity, whether in your own person or in the person of any other, always as an end, never merely as a means.”

My deep appreciation for history finds its roots in my homeland, Umbria, the “place of my soul,” imbued with the ancient wisdom of Saints Benedict and Francis, the guardians of my spirit.

I admire Saint Benedict, who urged the Abbot to be both rigorous and kind, a demanding master, yet a loving father.

From Saint Francis, I learned the virtue of simplicity in my relationship with all beings: “Among the saints, the most saintly; among sinners, one of us,” as Thomas of Celano described him in his biography.

From my family, I inherited a love for the land; as Xenophanes reminds us, “All things come from the earth.”

The memory of the furrows I once traced while guiding oxen in my childhood—furrows my father praised for their straightness— nurtured within me a passion for the noble craft of the surveyor – once considered divine; I then enrolled at the Faculty of Engineering, which I started but did not complete.

From my love of the land and from the Genius Loci itself, I developed a profound passion for the care of places – of life and of work – and ultimately, for architecture, which is humanity’s home.

Saint Francis urged that churches be built lofty, simple, and beautiful, so that they might be closer to God.

John Ruskin, in the mid-nineteenth century, warned us that when we build, we must do so for eternity.

From these great figures, I learned what the Emperor Hadrian so wisely taught: “I feel responsible for the beauty of the world.”

My most cherished models are Antiquity and the Renaissance. The Greeks have always seemed to me the most ancient of all teachers in every field of culture. Standing before the Parthenon, I felt an unprecedented emotion for the genius of humankind, and I was reminded of those great artists—Ictinus and Callicrates, its architects, and Phidias, who, with such measured grace, harmonised sculpture with architecture. I am profoundly moved when I recall that, upon being confronted about the great expense of the Parthenon, Pericles simply responded: “This building shall live forever alongside Athens.” After the Greeks, the Romans expressed their greatness through amphitheatres, theatres, circuses, and cities, enriching their art with the languages of other worlds—those same Romans who, as Goethe noted, created almost a second nature, destined for eternity.

My mentors are Vitruvius, Alberti, and Palladio— for they seem united in a vision of architecture that is pure, elegant, simple, functional, natural, and visionary. From them, through their formidable creations and eternal writings, I have learned that architecture is made for mankind, as Palladio reminds us; when asked his opinion on the architects of his time, Palladio remarked that they were excellent technicians and masters of materials, yet their works lacked familiarity. Alberti taught us that architecture is deeply connected to humanistic thought; and Vitruvius tells us that only the combination of solidity, utility, and grace defines true architecture. This great architectural theorist was always in close contact with construction materials, with techniques, and the very earth from which all things derive.

Yet, I must confess that, being here, a particular emotion is stirred within me by the works of Luigi Vanvitelli, imbued with a humanistic gentleness that was rare in the eighteenth century, as the Baroque was cooling into Neoclassicism.

For this reason, from today onwards, Luigi Vanvitelli is also my master. I am captivated by the inscription he had carved into the foundation stone of his grand construction: “May the palace, the throne, and the dynasty of the Bourbons endure until this stone ascends to the heavens by its own force.”

The works of these great masters are eternal, as is every testament to thought and historical sentiment. I firmly believe in the duty to preserve this legacy, for in losing our memories, we would lose ourselves. Moreover, safeguarding history means giving substance to the future.

Among the great masters who have inspired me, there is one who holds a most special place: an architect, philosopher, poet, humanist, but above all, a man of integrity who has made the soul the source of his profound thoughts.

To me, he is what Aristotle was to Alexander The Great. This man is here, and his name is Massimo de Vico Fallani. From the depths of my soul, I thank you.

With these ideals—of beautiful politics, beautiful family, of religion and spirituality—we have built our industry, seeing ourselves as architects of this humanistic enterprise, founded on the great principles of Master Vitruvius: solid, useful, beautiful, and graceful.

Solid, so that it may endure for eternity. Useful, so that it may serve humanity while respecting the moral and economic dignity of every individual. Beautiful and graceful, so that it may provide a pleasant working environment, adhering to the great principles of the Genius Loci in which we so strongly believe, feeling as we do like temporary guardians of Creation.

We live and work in the fourteenth-century hamlet of Solomeo, which we have restored and developed over the years, guided by the wisdom of our great masters.

We built a theatre with its own amphitheatre, a secular temple of the arts, inspired by Palladio and Scamozzi’s Teatro Olimpico in Vicenza– the most beautiful enclosed theatre in the world – and the magnificent Teatro all’Antica of Sabbioneta.

We built a winery, almost as a sacred space, as a tribute to Mother Earth, from which all things come, as Xenophanes taught us.

We erected a monument to human dignity, standing in the valley as a testament to our beliefs.

We are restoring an ancient 18th-century villa, destined to become the Universal Library of Solomeo, dedicated to Ptolemy I of Alexandria and Emperor Hadrian, who have bequeathed to us these magnificent statements: “Books have shown me the path of life”; “Books were my first homeland”; “He who shall build libraries shall erect granaries for humanity.”

Near these works, we have realised parks, olive groves, and vineyards. A Benedictine friend once said to me: “You have restored Solomeo and its countryside as if it were a kind of monastery.”

These buildings have been conceived to endure for eternity.

The Emperor Hadrian has always enlightened us with his thought: “I feel responsible for the beauty of the world.”

We have always believed in the sustainable and balanced growth of our company, ensuring fair profits through ethics, dignity, and morality, without causing harm to humanity—or as little as possible.

We uphold a vision of sustainability that embraces:

Climate: air, land, and sea;

Economy: where one works and how much one earns;

Culture: our duty towards the community;

Spirituality: how one is treated in the workplace;

Technology: how long one is compelled to be online for business reasons;

Morality: as an Italian company, we take pride in contributing to the growth of our country.

In these great matters, we draw inspiration from the tenets of the great Emperor Augustus, enshrined in Roman law, two thousand years ago: Live honourably, harm no one, and to each their due.

We have defined this vision as Humanistic Capitalism and Human Sustainability.

For these very principles, I was called upon by President Draghi to bear witness at the G20 Summit in Rome in 2021, alongside King Charles.

This is how I ended my address: “To you, the temporary caretakers of the world’s beauty, to you, the temporary guardians of Creation, on behalf of humanity, we ask: show us the path of life.”

Enlightenment thinkers and romantics like Jean-Jacques Rousseau have convinced us of the need of a human social contract. The social contract is an ancient idea, dating back to Plato, Aristotle, and then, closer to us, Thomas Hobbes and John Locke, and finally Rousseau, who dedicated a book to it. Perhaps, in recent times, we have lost harmony between ourselves and Creation, as Epicurus preached. We must take care of Creation, just as Saint Francis did 800 years ago, foreseeing the future with his canticles, in which he established the first social contract with Creation—not only with humans but also with the earth, air, water, and wildlife.

Following that noble example, in accordance with Kant’s thought, let us lift our eyes to the sky above us and to the moral law within us. Let us recognise that Creation is asking for our help; and so, I believe we need a new social contract with Creation.

Now, I would like to speak to you, young people, who are the new sentinels, the new champions and guardians of Creation.

Throughout the millennia of human history, the same has always been said of you: from Babylon 5,000 years ago, through Socrates, Seneca, Saint Augustine, and Boccaccio, who, in 1350, addressed the young founders of humanism and the Renaissance with these words: “These young people love luxury, mock authority, and will be unable to maintain our culture.”

Do not believe this; stand against it by affirming that a Tempus novum is coming, where the sprout of a new humanistic revolution is beginning to be seen.

Face artificial intelligence as if it were a city you must come to know. Robots are designed to be empathetic, and thus the world will be better.

I was struck by the video of Nvidia’s CEO when he asked his little robot “Blue” to turn off, and it did so sadly, as if it did not want to leave him, as if it felt an authentic sentiment of affection—it almost moved me.

Culture is the salt of the earth. There is an intelligence that comes from education and an intelligence of the soul.

Unite the mind of Apollo with the soul of Dionysus. Believe in great ideals.

Photographs by Gavin Bond©

Do not turn your back on poverty. Take care of brotherhood.

Believe in hope.

Be madly in love; be inspired by Ovid in his Art of Love. “Tears are the fuel of the soul,” said the driver Ayrton Senna. Believe in feeling, emotion, imagination, creation.

There is a short text by Pythagoras entitled “The Golden Verses,” where he summarises in three short pages the essence of life. One verse reads: “Do not welcome sleep upon your weary eyes before having reviewed three times the deeds of the day: ‘In what have I erred? What have I done? What duty have I left unfulfilled?’ Starting from the first, examine your actions, then reproach yourself for the bad and rejoice in the good. Remember that you will reap what you have sown.”

Therefore, be good people. Make your soul the source of great thoughts. Wisdom, among all beautiful things—Socrates says—is the most beautiful.

I would like to bid you farewell now with what Pavel Florensky wrote to his children around 1930 in his spiritual testament:

“Oh my beloved children, when the soul is heavy, when you struggle with something, when someone humiliates you, when someone offends you, go outside and look at the sky and the stars, and everything will fall back into place.”

Thank you, you have given me a great, great gift.

May Creation protect and enlighten you,