Does the demonstration of recollection with the slave boy in the Meno really constitute the proof of recollection thesis? Socrates seems there to be asking leading questions. I take it that Plato intended to make it uncertain whether the boy is really recollecting: his second denial of knowledge 'ou manthano' (85A4-5) can mean 'I am not learning', suggesting that he is not recollecting. We can never know the truth about his learning, because the demonstration is an Gorgian type of epideixis(81B1-2), which produces only persuasion.
However, it is one thing to know whether the boy is recollecting, and quite another to know whether learning is recollection. The demonstration is meant to make Meno recollect the latter truth (81E6-82A3). Throughout the demonstration Socrates addresses questions to Meno, thereby making him consider whether the boy is really recollecting (82B6-7, E12-3, 84A3-4, C10-D1). Socrates' remark after the demonstration is that Meno knows that the boy will regain knowledge (85C9-D1), which means that Meno has been successfully made to recollect that recollection thesis is correct.
According to CebesÕ explanation in the Phaedo(73A7-B2), recollection is helped by the use of proper questions and diagrams, and according to the Republic(510D5-511A1, 529D7-530A), mathematicians should not seek truth in diagrams or models made by such masters as Daedalus, but make use of them simply as images. The boyÕs learning is a beautiful image of true learning created by Socrates, an offspring of Daedalus. We should not seek truth concerning learning in this image, but make use of it to find truth about true learning. Socrates' proper questions with the help of this image made Meno recollect that learning is recollection.
However, inquirers are rather misled by perceptual images when the object of inquiry has no lustre in its earthly image (Phaedrus 250B), as is the case with virtues, knowledge, education and learning. In order to establish that learning is recollection, it is then necessary to have recourse to another kind of proof, in which one relies on rational thinking. Plato embarks on this task in the Phaedo.
Recollection itself can be taken to be an image or metaphor (eikon) of learning, presented by Socrates, just as the torpedo is an image of Socrates, presented by Meno (80A-C). But they are different in that while the latter is intended to stop inquiry, recollection is a metaphor that stimulates inquiry and helps to develop new ideas expressible in literal paraphrases ('the illustrative thesis' in E.E. Pender, Images of Persons Unseen, Sankt Augustin 2000). In the Phaedo Plato continues his quest for the truth about learning, with the help of recollection as the image of learning, and thereby develops such new ideas as the existence of Forms and the immortality of the soul. His further inquiry about knowledge, the object of learning, in the Theaetetus is taken to be its further continuation.
(Nagoya University)
Excavated wrecks of ancient Mediterranean ships revealed technical methods of Mediterranean shipbuilding. Among them was the so-called "shell-first method" with which modern Western Europe had not been at all familiar. By the "shell-first method" they erected first a strong shell of planks by jointing edges together closely with mortises and tenons and then inserted a complete set of frames to stiffen the shell tight. The constructing procedure is quite the reverse of the traditional European so-called "skeleton-first method."
The discovery of the "shell-first method" brought a new phase in the interpretation of classical literary texts: the passages Odyssey5.234-61 that have puzzled classical scholars turn out to be explicable. Odysseus builds his sxedia with mortises and tenons by the "shell-first method." Carefully reading the passages with the eye of a shipbuilder, I suggest his sxedia is not a raft, but a real boat and build a tentative model. Rudimentary as it is, it is built firmly enough to be seaworthy. But for the intervention of Poseidon, Odysseus could have arrived safe at Ithaca by this boat.
The new findings enabled the project team to reconstruct the Athenian trireme Olympias,too. Many specialists in archaeology, nautical history, classical studies and maritime engineering engaged in the reconstruction project found that the hupozomata previously believed to be outside the hull were inside. The hupozomata are listed in the Piraeus naval inventories and seem to be very important hanging-gear of the triremes, but we have no further prescription in the inventories about how and where they were fitted. Relevant passages in the literature are few except Plato's Republic and Laws. So far classical scholars had speculated that the hupozomata were fitted round outside the hull, but this is overturned by the "inside" theory of the reconstruction project team.
However, a doubt remains. The hupozomata in the tenth book of the Republichave an important function, being compared to the band of light holding the universe together. The light seems to pass not only through the center of the Universe, but also, since it holds the heaven together, round the outer surface of the heavenly sphere. In the Actsalso, when the freighter St. Paul is boarding meets a storm, ropes undergirding (hupozonnuntes) the ship are used. These ropes seem to be outside the hull. In the Argonautica,the Argonauts in launching the Argo strongly gird the ship with a well-twisted rope. This rope can be recognized as a hupozoma and must have been outside the hull. Moreover in some passages of the Odysseyand the Trojan Women, there are ropes recognizable as hupozomata girding round outside the hull lengthwise from stem to stern.
It can be safely said that the "inside" theory of the reconstruction team does not always hold. I test it by reappraising as much relevant literature and as many iconographical representations as possible.
(Tokyo University of Marine Science and Technology)
Faced with the unfavourable circumstances of the Athenian public's tacit contravention of the 403 B.C. Amnesty, Socrates in the Crito seems to confirm his ideas that the rule of law be obeyed by the citizens of the ideal democratic State. The ideas confirmed through his imaginary dialogue with the Athenian Laws(50a-54d) are the realization of the sovereignty of laws (RL(1)), the guarantee of the citizens' right to contest the legitimacy of the laws (RL(2)) and the ensurance of the conditions for citizens' spontaneous assent to the laws (RL(3)). By showing his intention to obey the rule of the Athenian Laws on his own principles of practice, Socrates urges the Athenian citizens to feel a sense of awe and shame --they have, after all, agreed to accept the Athenian Laws including the Amnesty as their ancestral polity.
In order to realize the RL(1), we should, first of all, continue to ask what is justice of the laws themselves. Plato tries to do so through Socrates' dialogue with Callicles in the Gorgias and the philosophical inquiry to form the just State and the just psyche in the Republic. And then, in order to ensure the RL(2) and the RL(3), we should ask how every citizen's concern for his or her psyche is to be realized in the polity. Plato, therefore, shows some concrete ways for every citizen to have common ground of argument in the "second" ideal polity of the Laws, for without philosopher-kings or-queens all the citizens must spontaneously obey the rule of law (III. 689e-690c), giving to reason's ordering the name of "law"(IV. 713e-714a).
Now the Athenian visitor in the Laws suggests various means to realize these ideas of the rule of law on the basis of Socratic dialogical philosophy. The final means is the Nocturnal Council(NC) constituted as "a means of salvation to our polity and its laws"(XII. 960e). The elder members of the NC usually fulfill their proper political functions to realize the rule of law. Assembled in the NC, however, they must engage in philosophical dialogues with the younger members independently of their proper functions.
The NC itself has its three proper functions. First, the admonition of the young imprisoned atheists(X. 908a-909a) offers them the occasion to contest the legitimacy of the law by which they were judged. They provide the NC with viewpoints of a different kind to grasp the possibility of the universal justification of laws. Second, the dialogue with inspector newly returned from overseas(XII. 951c-952d) offers the NC some external viewpoints to do so. And third, the dialectical inquiry with the younger members in "a higher type of education"(961a-968b) offers every member some internal viewpoints to justify his or her legal judgments.
Thus the philosophical dialogues in the NC are the crucial methods for making the rule of law restore its true nature as the rule of reason and preserving the public confidence in legal judgments in the democratic society where the arguments over justice inevitably arise.
In Against Ctesiphon 32-48, Aeschines used the proclamation law and the Dionysiac law (nomos Dionysiakos) to present the illegality of Ctesiphon's decree by which the proclamation of a crown for Demosthenes in the theater of Dionysus was proposed. The Dionysiac law contained the word demotes, so it has been often discussed in the studies on the demes in Classical Attica. But previous scholars have considered this law only within the framework of the relation between the polis and the demes. In this paper, I examined Aeschines' Against Ctesiphon and Demosthenes' On the Crown and the related documents, and reconsidered the relation between the Attic demes and the Dionysiac law.
The examination of the two orations shows that the Dionysiac law seems to have contained four clauses quoted by Aeschines(Against Ctesiphon 44) and an exceptional clause quoted by Demosthenes(On the Crown 121). Therefore, this law generally prohibited the proclamation of crowns in the theater of Dionysus, but if the Council or the Assembly approved, it was possible to proclaim crowns for Athenians there. This means that Ctesiphon's decree was not illegal and Demosthenes' interpretation of laws was the more persuasive one.
Next, I examined the background of the enactment of the Dionysiac law, the honorary inscriptions of some demes, and the office of the herald responsible for proclamations at the theater. As a result, behind the enactment of the Dionysiac law, those who had been crowned by their demotai made the herald proclaim a crown in the theater of Dionysus by their own judgment, and such situations affected the running of the City Dionysia. Accordingly, the Dionysiac law restricted the herald who would intend to proclaim crowns without permission of the Council or the Assembly, so this law seems to have functioned as a regulation threatening the herald with atimia for misconduct in office. Therefore, the Dionysiac law was not aimed at the restriction of the demes' activities.
Furthermore, according to Demosthenes, the proclamation of crowns in the theater of Dionysus was to the benefit of the polis. Since the polis enacted the Dionysiac law for that purpose, the meaning of a clause meth' hypo to^n phyleto^n e demoto^n[sc. en twi theatrwi] anagoreuesthai stephanoumenon in the Dionysiac law is that if anyone wished to be honored with a proclamation in the city theater, he should contribute to the polis, not to the demes or the tribes.
In conclusion, we should comprehend the Dionysiac law within the framework not of the relation between the polis and the demes, but of the relation between the polis and an individual.
(Kobe University)
In his Posterior Analytics B, Aristotle shows how demonstration functions in grasping what a thing is. The peculiar feature of his theory of inquiry is expressed at the end of B8: that inquirers can grasp "what it is" through demonstration. On this feature, I argue that the main theme of the book B is the inquiry of "what it is". The relevant argument through B1-10 depends on the identity thesis of "what it is" and "why it is". The thesis is ,I claim, supported by the conception that definition reveals what it is, which I call 'the basicness of definition'.
Unless we make the identity thesis clear, we may fall into either of two possible moves. (1) Some scholars claim that the aim of the book B is to establish the theory of definition which reveals the essence. But, Aristotle's theory of definition requires further arguments, which are deployed in the Topics and the Metaphysics. (2) Some other scholars claim that the main aim consists in investigating how demonstration appropriately works in the theory of inquiry. However, then, what at all does demonstration would make clear in an inquiry? I diagnose they are forced to claim that the goal of the theory of demonstration is confined to offer a method of inquiry into "why it is" which is revealed by cause. We have to clarify the role of "what it is" question which is another engine of Aristotle's inquiry.
In order to show the 'basicness of definition' which runs underneath his argument throughout B1-10, I examine the identity thesis which is mentioned four times and expressed in different wording. Especially in B8, "what it is" is identified with "the cause of if it is". "If it is" and "what it is" are within a same route of inquiry which is expressed by the single term. We seek for the "if it is"(Does X exit?). When we grasp that it exists, then we seek for "what it is"(What is X?). In both cases the question is rendered in a simple form. We can find in the identity thesis above quoted in B8 both the question form in a single term and causation. The question form is not merely confined in the linguistic level, rather the simple form of the question "what it is" is epistemologically connected with inquirers' recognition of the thing in itself by the basicness of definition. The basicness of definition is led through the argument in the traditional framework of the theory of inquiry which is developed in B3-7. Therefore, the basicness of definition does not presuppose Aristotelian theory of demonstration which is developed in B8. Since the basicness of definition proffers an epistemological framework which corresponds to the simple form of question "what it is", both "what it is" and "the cause of if it is" of the identity thesis are respectively connected with each other in terms of the same form of question which belongs to the simple route of inquiry.
(Hokkaido University)
In his Institutio Oratoria, Quintilian bases his concept of the ideal orator on that of Cicero. However, there is sometimes a gap between this Ciceronian ideal and Quintilian's own theory, which was influenced by his own age. This gap can be seen most clearly in his theory of deliberative oratory, because genuine deliberative bodies had ceased to function under the empire and Q. really wrote about declamatio and other non-practical forms of oratory.
The following arguments prove this.
(1) In distinguishing the three 'genera causarum'(3.4.6), Q. first divides the whole task of oratory into that which is inside the courts and that which is outside them. This strange division reveals the influence of Q.'s own age over his theory: while former rhetoricians had regarded both the courts and the deliberative bodies as the obvious fields for oratory, at Q.'s time the latter had already become obsolete, so that he could name only the courts as a definitive field for oratory. In another passage (3. 8. 14-5), Q. tries to enlarge the field of deliberative oratory, but his enlargement is vague, which again shows his inexperience in this genre.
(2) Q. treats the 'mores'(of the orator and of the audience) differently in different passages. In one passage(3.8.13), the term denotes the orator's good character which contributes by itself to his persuasiveness. In another (3.8.35-48), he regards it not as an instrument of persuasion in itself, but as an object to which the speech, if it is to be persuasive, must be adapted. This latter concept, which seems to derive from the 'aptum', one of the four virtues of style, is adopted here because it is useful in suasoria and prosopopoeia, which are what Q. really had in mind when writing about deliberative oratory.
(3) Q. says that the 'genus dicendi' appropriate to suasoria is similar to that used in real forensic speeches(3.8.58-61). When this statement is compared to his treatment of the style one should use in controversia(2.10), where he emphasizes that controversia must closely imitate the courts, it seems odd, because we naturally expect him to write that suasoria should imitate genuine deliberative speeches. His silence about the latter again points to their irrelevance in his time. What he calls 'uerum consilium'(3.8.62) turns out to be either speeches from the past or speeches inserted into historiography.
(4) Beginning the chapter about deliberative oratory (3.8.1), Q. states that the honorable is more cogent than the useful in this genre. This is in accordance with his concept of the ideal orator as a 'vir bonus'. In his more technical discussion (3.8.30-32), however, Q. treats 'utile' and 'honestum' equally, disregarding his former statement. The issue of the orator's morality therefore seems to be integrated only superficially into his theory of deliberative oratory. For this question he also refers the reader to the last book, but there (12.1) it is obvious that Q. again has the courts in mind. Thus, the issue of the orator's morality in deliberative speeches remains unsolved.
These arguments also show how Q. tries to supplement his theory by borrowing from other fields of rhetoric.
(University of Tokyo)
The aim of this paper is to reexamine the policy of Constantius II on the Constantinopolitan senate, which made the Greek city on Bosporus a "capital" of the eastern half of the Roman empire, and to clarify its impact over the eastern mediterranean world.
First, we examine the thesis of an obligation on the newly recruited senators to reside in the city of Constantinople. This thesis was an influential one, proposed by P. Petit whose primary concern was to interpret the use of a Greek word "polites" in Libanius' letters, and accepted by other scholars in explaining some individual cases, as a result of which it emphasised the independence of the capital from the other cities of the East, not consistent with the thesis of local senators "honorati". To reexamine its validity, we pick up three representative cases of Constantinopolitan senators, one of which is a basis of Petit's interpretation and the rest of which are principal models treated by later scholars, that is, Olympius, Themistius and Caesarius.
In Libanius' letters on him, we can find references to Olympius' expenditure of different grades, which implies his nomination as a praetor. Considering the information which can be obtained from legal texts in the Theodosian code, we can find the summon of Olympius is not of senators but of praetors. Themistius' and Caesarius' cases also need to be set in the context. Though the imperial letter in which the former is recommended as a senatorial candidate mentions "ananke" to reside in the city, it doesn't mean any obligation of residence but an economic condition under which a poor teacher was forced to migrate into the capital. Alike Caesarius, though represented as an "oiketor" of the city in a Gregorian oration, is found "archiatros" whose place of activity is in the imperial palace. From these considerations, we can get a conclusion that none of these typical cases prove the existence of the obligation and that we should reconstruct an interpretation of the imperial policy.
Secondly, we aim to reconsider the senatorial policy of Constantius II. Taking into consideration the information drawn from the Theodosian code, we cannot accept the imperial motives presented by scholars that the emperor aimed to populate and enlarge his capital. Rather, a prosopographical examination confirms that many cases are concomitant with holdings of imperial offices and that some receive provincial governorships shortly after their senatorial nominations, while an association of office holdings with senatorial recruitment can be confirmed in other sources.
In sum, Constantius' policy isn't primarily concerned to the enlargement of the eastern capital, but to the implantation into the eastern half of the empire of senatorial rank that is some reward of imperial office holdings, which doesn't prevent appearance of local elites with senatorial rank.
(University of Tokyo)
In this paper I allude to the wealth of material and potential for comparison between even such disparate genres as the comedy of democratic Athens and the kyogen skits of feudal Japan. While the former genre is of a complex nature, high lyricism and increasingly sophisticated plots and stagecraft, the latter is a brief and light vignette of life, a skit sandwiched between the more serious and poetical No dramas. This type of plays has never developed into a western style of comedy.
Both genres, though to a greater or lesser degree literary, preserve many elements of popular culture. My examples focus particularly on the agora, the market-place and the colourful characters that populate it. I suggest that Aristophanes kept an eye on non-literary genres (about which we know very little indeed) when he looked at the agora with its scheming tricksters, loud female-vendors, or good-for-nothings loitering around it all day long. Markets and fairs must have attracted a great deal of popular amusements of all sorts and Aristophanes probably used much of this material. Kyogen too found inspiration in market sellers, shysters waiting at the market for country bumpkins, temple visitors during fairs, and so on. All these characters frequently feature in kyogen plays and the Japanese genre may in many ways help us refine our perception of Aristophanes.
I start with a Megarian scheme in Aristophanes' Akharnians(729ff.) and compare it to the kyogen play Wakame. The Japanese counterpart also depends on the recognizable tricksters of the market-place and their heavy punning.
I then go on to show how knowledge of kyogen can help us appreciate popular elements in Greek comedy. Not only in subject matter: with kyogen, we may still admire the actors' cleverness in devising efficient ways of moving in a fluid space without a fixed stage. Now the stage is of course uniform and fixed, but movement on it reflects and preserves much of the early practice. The art of kyogen exits and entrances, and generally of movement in space is truly intriguing and it may be of some value when reflecting on early Greek practice.
Folk motifs are a kind of metaphor in Aristophanic comedy. The playwright likes to connect disparate images into a humorous but meaningful and evocative whole. In order to appreciate such images and their impact on the audience we cannot afford to ignore other available traditions of folk comedy.
Finally, I briefly hint at New Comedy where too we find hints at panourgoi of earlier comedy. However unlike in Aristophanes, they are not at the centre of humorous and unattached episodic scenes, but form an inseparable part of well-wrought plots, often significantly contributing to the resolution that consists of restored domestic bliss --something the panourgos of Aristophanic comedy was hardly ever interested in. Here is a domestic version of panourgia, a compassionate trickster, and this bourgeoisification carried with it significant consequences for western literature.
(Kyoto University)
Besides being fit to meet all functional needs of tragic and comic performances, the Greek theatrical setup, having reached its final state towards the end of the 5th century B.C., fulfilled a symbolic function which influenced the reception of the plays.
During the performances, when the seats were occupied by spectators and the plays were going on, the hemispherical edifice, together with the sky above it, constituted an image of the world, an ideogram of the universe as we might call it.
On close inspection this image proves to be very orderly, everybody being assigned a place according to his nature, status and function : on the side of the audience, starting with women, children and slaves in the perimeter we pass first to young men, then to grown-up citizens, to members of the Council, finally to high-priests and officials ; and on the side of the play, starting with the anonymous crowd of the chorus, we ascend one step to the venerable heroic characters of the stage, and another step to the gods on the roof, while real gods were thought to watch from the sky above.
Hierarchical and genealogical as it was, the entire arrangement represemted a world where all beings are separated by the two world-regulating principles, law and nature, into distinct and yet interrelated groups, a world where everybody has his proper place, which he rightfully occupies, feeling himself an integral part of the universal order.
Inside this world-like frame, when the tragic plays began, an action unfolded --an action that apart from being elevated, complete and of magnitude(Aristoteles), constituted a disturbance of the world-order, a transgression of the set boundaries, a violation of human and divine law. If we examine tragic misdeeds as such, we will not be surprised to find them in conflict with exactly the same principles that governed world-order: nature and law.
What usually follows in Tragedies is that the heavenly and human powers controlling the universe, powers bound to guard and maintain those regulating principles, cooperate to punish the offender and reaffirm world-order.
Things work differently in Comedy. On the side of the audience, discipline remained strict; the contrast to Tragedy lay on the side of the plays: comic characters were not supposed to be heroic ancestors of the heroic age, but ordinary contemporary people. Hierarchical allocation was totally disregarded, and the main characters were allowed to break all principles and rules without scruple --and go unpunished! In Comedy regulating forces lie mostly dormant; and even when they intervene, they not only fail to punish the evil-doer and uphold law and order, but they often make fools of themselves. The disorder persists; the trouble-maker achieves his goal and triumphs.
This line of events, leading from the disruption of world-order to either its tragic re-establishment or to its comic deformation, is much more effectively experienced by an audience which, together with the theatrical edifice around it, constitutes in itself a mimesis, an imitation of the world-order, an ideogram of the universe as we called it .
(University of Jannina)
My paper consists of two parts. In the first I sketch the trajectory of Aristophanes' adventure on the modern Greek stage during the 20th century, by briefly presenting the emergence of two main trends, the "archaistic" and the "modernistic", in assessing the interpretation of the surviving comedies. The former believed that ancient Greek drama could only be properly interpreted by resorting to the artistic means and conventions of 5th century B.C. practice, which in actuality means the reconstruction of an ancient performance on a modern stage --a rather utopian aspiration because of: a) the serious gaps in our knowledge about the exact situation in theatrical activities of classical Athens; b) the absence of any substantial form of theatrical tradition in Greece, due to a 1.500 lacuna of anti-theatrical periods: christian Byzantines and muslim Turks; and c) as a result of the radical changes in social and cultural conditions, the lack of awareness and sensitivity in modern spectators to such a performance. The modernistic camp of interpretation, on the contrary, maintained that classical drama could only be appreciated by modern audiences if portrayed by artistic means and in terms of conventions already familiar to them, which actually means the invention of a completely new performance consisting of various, often incompatible, ingredients, as no form of drama even approximately resembling that of classical Greece exists to serve as a model for reference. Needless to say, nearly all attempts to interpret Greek drama naturally use the texts in translation.
In the case of Aristophanes, however, additional problems are caused by the dependence of his satire on contemporary socio-political reality, on the one hand, and the proverbial bawdiness of his language on the other. It is for this reason that the poet became a taboo and, even through the first half of the 20th century, an easy prey at the hands of amateurs or bad touring groups, playing for the mere titillation of male audiences; exceptions were rare. The first serious attempts to rehabilitate the maltreated poet only date from the beginning of the 2nd half of the 20th century, under the auspices of National Theatre in Athens, established in 1932, with two productions, representing the two opposite trends. The first, with the Clouds, in 1951, undertaken by Sokratis Karadinos, an experienced director, ardent supporter of the "archaistic" approach, drawing his artistic material from various, mainly indirect, ancient sources (vase paitnings, testimonies in later texts etc), although attained a remarkable aesthetic result at all levels, failed to appeal to the audience --completely unfamiliar with the grotesque costumes and masks as well as the static movement and conventional acting-- but also divided the critics. That failure actually ended the attempts of the "archaistic" approach as far as comedy was concerned.
Aristophanes' real revival was realized by the initiative of two directors, representing the "modernistic" trend, though in slightly different ways as far as the sources wherefrom they drew their raw material and, consequently, the artistic means applied in their interpretation, were concerned. Both based their approach on the self-evident receptive capacity of present day audiences, whose referential experiences are drawn from various forms of, not exclusively theatrical, popular entertainment. Therefore, with an eclectic method in choosing and utiliing various elements from relative activities and with the mere aspiration of reaching a simply "analogical", as compared with the ancient productions, result, they both created compact, vivid and extremely appealing compositions, which turned the marginalized poet into the most popular theatrical event every summer. The main difference between them was that Alexis Solomos, whose production of the Women at the Assembly at Epidaurus in 1956, also within the context of National Theatre, inaugurated Aristophanes' victory, preferred to draw his material from more or less urban sources, whereas Karolos Koun --creator of the Art Theatre, a turning point in the history of modern Greek theatre--, whose production of the Birds in 1969 has become a permanent point of reference, rather turned to more popular and folk environments. Ever since most of today's Aristophanes' productions take as their starting point, either close imitations or intelligent combinations of, these two "modernistic" methods.
The second, ad shorter, part of the paper deals with my one and only attempt to cope with Aristophanes, undertaken (1984) with a state subsidized group of Thessaloniki, with a production of the Women at the Assembly, for participation in a local festival and a tour within and outside Greece. Our assessment, somehow moving between the two briefly sketched "modernistic" methods assessments, was partly determined by some rather external factors, such as the limited number of actors --5 male, 8 female-- but also the nature of the theatrical venues, mostly closed. Music played a decisive role, not only creating the right atmosphere but also determining the rythm of the performance.
(University of Thessaloniki)