Paolo Crepet: “Madness is a form of extraordinary intelligence. When I was a dream counselor, only women came to tell me about them."
2024-11-19 10:22:14
TiranaPost
Paolo Crepet, your autobiography is entitled "What you take with you". Can I ask a question here?
What do I have with me today, I just turned 73? Maybe the people I met in a life dedicated to psychiatry, art, beauty.
Any proper names?
My paternal grandfather studied art in Venice. One day, a young, handsome and brilliant man arrived in Laguna. His name was Amedeo Modigliani. The two drew and painted, then Amedeo decided to leave for Paris.
What about your grandfather?
He had met a very beautiful woman, Marian. He painted a portrait of her, then she died. They were young. My grandfather was devastated.
Where does the last name come from?
Of French origin, my great-grandfather was among Baudelaire's publishers.
You grew up among books, brushes, canvases.
And my life was divided in two: psychiatry on one side, art on the other. At a certain point in my life, in Arezzo, I opened a gallery: in reality it was little more than a warehouse, I was young, with little money. Many people came, but no one bought anything.
Not everyone knows that you still have a refined art collection today.
In the past I had a Hermann Nitsch painting and a Francis Bacon painting.
Both in their works talk about blood and pain.
And it is no coincidence: today we have become indifferent, pain no longer does anything to us, we kill someone for a pair of headphones. Art, on the other hand, makes pain shine.
Caravaggio, Rembrandt.
"Look, today the problem is not drugs, because the Rolling Stones created masterpieces under the influence of drugs. Today the problem is that we have a lot of drug addicts and no artwork.
The "druggiest" drug you've ever tried?
In New York we were one evening at home with a friend.
What about the years you worked in mental health hospitals in Rio?
I tried a few things that gave euphoria, but imagine: we drank a cup of coffee too black to stay awake, what could that have done to us?
Not everyone knows you've traveled the world.
It all started with a steak in Arezzo. I was working there and one evening they introduced me to a guy. We ate together and eventually I discovered that he was the head of the Mental Health section of the World Health Organization. Namely number one.
The contest?
I won it and started traveling the world to study people's mental health. From London to Geneva, from Prague to New Delhi to Paris.
A memory from India?
The man who accompanied me told me that in the family it was normal for some children to die sooner or later. And when the child turned one, it was a celebration for them.
You also worked in the former Soviet Union.
I believe I was one of the few "western" psychiatrists who was able to experience firsthand what it means to work in a psychiatric hospital on the other side of the Berlin Wall.
A memory?
Prague, a myth for me, because I love Kafka. But I saw with my own eyes psychiatrists who "re-educated" soldiers who they said suffered from sexual deviations: they showed those boys pictures of naked women, and if their reaction was not what they expected, the punishment was put into action.
What is madness to you?
An extraordinary, imaginative, visionary form of intelligence. I'm not talking about the usual neuroses, but about the person who thinks he has a tooth filling through which he talks to NASA, as a memorable patient of mine told me a few years ago.
Are you a little crazy?
"Of course!"
In what form?
Because I've always done unusual things, because I've always ignored the rules and done what I love to do. Of course, like all free people, I had a calvary: the academy despised me, but you know what a joy it is to meet people, talk to everyone, go on TV and get into the facts, explain Only today I understand how much my freedom is worth.
Is it your freedom to always wear only sweaters?
The explanation is simple and undoubtedly has its roots in childhood. I had a grandmother who raised me. Instead of saying "I love you" he said "I'm going to make a sweater".
If I say Oliviero Toscani, what comes to mind?
A great friendship. We also worked together with Vittorio Sgarbi when he became mayor of Salem. They had appointed me "advisor for dreams".
And what did you do?
We took a confession, took it out on the square and invited people to share their dreams there.
And did it work?
No, because only the women came, the men started to get bored and we let it go.
