Helm Stierlin

(1926-2021) German psychiatrist, psychoanalyst and systemic family therapist. From 1974 to 1991 he was the medical director and chair-owner of the Department for psychoanalytic basic research and Family Therapy at the Medical Faculty of the University of Heidelberg. Until 1995 he was the editor of the journal Familiendynamik. His scientific writings and books have been translated into twelve languages.

Massimo Schinco: In 2010, having to go to Germany with my daughter, I decided that it was the right time to visit Helm Stierlin, especially since it was not difficult to reach Heidelberg from where we were. Before leaving, Jackie Boscolo had called Helm, who by virtue of the ancient friendship that linked him to the founders of the Milan School had willingly agreed to receive me, even if in the days in which I would be there he was quite busy for family reasons family. In the end, on the day that suited everyone, he was free only early in the morning. “Well – he told me when we made the final arrangements on the phone – you and your daughter come to my house at half past eight, so we can have breakfast together.”
As we headed there early in the morning, to say I was intimidated is an understatement. Helm Stierlin was not only a fundamental piece of history of the family therapy movement, he was indeed a piece of history and culture of Europe, considering what he had experienced in the Second World War and what he had done and written about relationships between different generations after the war and after Nazism.
A few seconds after ringing the bell my shyness disappeared. An elderly man in a vest opened the door, with a bright and welcoming look, deeply at ease in inviting us to be careful not to trip over the clothesline that was in the dim light of the corridor. He sat us down at the kitchen table, turned on the coffee machine and, opening the fridge, asked us if frankfurters and cheese would be fine. He inquired about what I was doing, he asked me about Luigi Boscolo and Jackie. The presence of my daughter, who was then completing her university studies in fields other than psychology and psychotherapy, contributed to marking the context in a defined and interesting way. From a generational point of view, Stierlin could easily have been my father, and my daughter his granddaughter. We focused on one fact. Despite the difference in generation and age, there was a continuity of experience between Stierlin and me, we belonged to very different historical moments, but of the same era. Although the world in which each of us had grown up had changed greatly in a short time, even tragically, we fundamentally shared the same world. Instead, it emerged that there was a strong discontinuity between “our” world and the one in which my daughter was becoming an adult; beyond  appearances, her world and that of her peers had already become profoundly different from ours: it was on its way to being “another world”. Needless to say, this poses great challenges as trainers, as teachers, as therapists. Passionate as we are about “our” world, don’t we risk solemnly blabbering? Are we capable of noticing the difference? Are we capable of creating useful premises so that the inhabitants of the “new” world develop curiosity and languages to dialogue with the inhabitants of the “old”? This dialogue is indispensable and must go in both directions, since “old” and “new” are parts of something larger than both!
At the end of our conversation I left Helm Stierlin a copy of one of my books; he gave us, with dedication, a copy each of his “Ways to the Heart – A Systemic Compendium for Couples in Verse and Illustrations”.
I don’t mind if I’ll be judged sentimental… I remember it as a meeting full of poetry.

Carlos Sluzki: Three spies, one French, one German, and one British, are caught by their common enemy and, before being hanged to death consecutively on the only prison’s gallows, they are offered a quick last wish. The French said that he wanted to recite a farewell poem, the German that he wanted to tell a last joke, and the British, hearing this, begged as his last wish to be hanged before the German starts his delivery.
German humor is no laughing matter, said Mark Twain. But many Germans would argue, in turn, that American humor tries to be memorable by being too noisy and “in your face” and that, in that sense, occupies too much experiential space. Our humor, they would propose, may be perceived by others as a bit too light (others would say too heavy) or silly because it is low in irony and sarcasm while high in dry humor to the point of absurdness, more focused on those who deliver the text than on the audience. It is, in that sense, gentler to an audience that seems to enjoy being the butt of jokes. That is perhaps why the representation of Helm Stierlin’s “Instant Hamlet,” a family therapy-infused short parody in verse, became, for all of us who attended or were part of that performance in 1987, such a deserving madcap prologue for the rich Heidelberg Conference that celebrated the tenth anniversary of Helm Stierlin as Professor of Psychiatry and founder/director of the Department of Basic Psychoanalytic and Family Therapy Research at the University of Heidelberg.
 
The performance in question took place at the Heidelberg Castle as part of the congress’ inaugural party, where a special presentation had been announced without major details. In turn, several presenters to the Conference–myself included–were invited to congregate there half an hour earlier, where Helm cajoled us to become actors in a short play he had written for the occasion, gave each a six typewritten pages script with our own parts marked in yellow, and distributed prompts such as capes, medieval-looking jackets and feathered hats. The distribution of roles had some genial touches. For instance, who better be Rosencrantz and Guildenstern than Boscolo and Cecchin? And who worse, if not cruel, choice as Ofelia than Giuliana Prata?  Mara Salvini and Paul Watzlawick were, in turn, dignified and regal (or at least rigid) in their roles as Hamlet’s mother and stepfather. Helm’s mentor, Lyman C. Wynne –involved in a black cape, his face whitened a makeup that spreaded into his eyes, making it difficult for him to read his lines– became the ghost of Hamlet’s father. Ivan Boszormenyi Nagy, his Hungarian accent thickening his delivery, was Polonius. I had some lines as Hamlet’s friend Horatio and other roles were assigned to Norman Paul, Pekka Tienary, Rosemarie Welter-Enderlin, Luc Kaufman, Max von Trommel, Josef Duss von Werdt, Ted Lidz, and Jürg Willi. Helm, while busy reminding us of our entries and exits (there were no exit spaces, so we ended up all crowded in the small scenario) and looking at details (a makeshift tree collapsed into the rostrum in mid-action and needed to be straightened), kept for himself the role of a multitasking and utterly distracted Hamlet.

The action took place one bump after another (Mara’s queen Gertrude’s final extended dying — while busy caring not to hurt herself or ruin her elegant dress– was particularly memorable) and, predictably, the play was followed by a noisy prolonged applause from the audience, elated to see notables and wannabes congress presenters ready to make fools of themselves for everybody’s entertainment, in a lovely unabashed example of  top German vintage humor. [i]
 

[i] A full text of this piece as well as the main contributions to the whole conference can be found in Stierlin, H; Simon, FB; and Schmidt, G, Eds (1987): Familiar Realities: the Heidelberg Conference. New York, Brunner/Mazel.