Remembering Morris Nitsun 11/10/1944 – 10/11/2022
I met Morris in two ways: the first time, as an author through his book “The anti- group.” It was a present. I started reading it and soon realized how important this book could be to understand a little better that which was so unknown at the time in Spain: group analysis. And for this reason, I wanted his contribution to be known, so it didn’t take me long to propose a four-hand translation to my colleague C. Ramos. And we did it. We took hours off the clock to be able to make progress, paragraph by paragraph, without undermining the substance of Nitsun’s work. Why did we do it? In my effort to make group analysis known, I wanted all the students who were doing the training in Spain to know about it. It was—is—a good translation that was never published; but since then, all the generations of group analysts who have been and are trained with us —Bilbao, Barcelona and Madrid— have had and still have the opportunity to read and discuss it.
The second time was already in person. I went to pick him up at the airport and… luckily he was carrying a sign with my name on it! I was clueless. And that’s where our friendship began. He had been invited to participate as a “border person” for the entire training weekend; and, eventually, he stayed longer and participated in the Congress of the Group Analytical Psychotherapy Association (APAG) of which, at that time, I was its president.
My English wasn’t very correct and even less his Spanish. I remember that he participated in the various groups —small groups, large groups, theory and supervision spaces— and we all conveyed to him what was going on in them. In all the large groups (120 people) I sat next to him with a notebook. I would write key words in it so that he could understand what was happening among all of us there.
During the days between the course and the Congress of the Association of Group Analytical Psychotherapy (APAG), I invited him to visit some place in this corner of Spain. We went to Gerona. In my poor English I tried to explain as best I could to him aspects of the city, its Jewish quarter, etc. I even remember how I blushed at my confusing pronunciation: I explained to him my sadness because my dog (a Setter) had died, and how he was a pet we could take everywhere. There I lavished on details; but I did not understand very well what it was that he wasn’t grasping; however, Morris respectfully followed my explanations and adventures with my pet dog. As we were arriving in Barcelona, he asked me:
- Did you have a dog or a duck?
I instantly wished Earth had eaten me whole. Of course, because of my bad pronunciation he believed that the animal that had died was a duck and not a dog!
After those days, he participated in the APAG Congress. It was very interesting, yet we had, of course, our clash: he complained about the lateness at the beginning of the GG of the Congress, until we – our group – explained to him that flexibility in the schedule was also important. There I also introduced him to another professional we greatly admired: Jorge García Badaracco, who introduced multi-family groups in Spain.
Later we invited him again, this time to attend some group meetings that we organized in Tarragona with my partner and friend Ibana Hijosa. We had a very pleasant evening there.
Our memory of him —notwithstanding cultural differences— is endearing. I will never forget our strolls while talking about groups, society. And his love of painting. I have one of his paintings in my office.
Rest in peace.