You do not currently have permission to view the full text for this document. Please sign in to an account with an active subscription or contact support.
When Rudolph Loewenstein died on April 14, 1976, we were sadly reminded that another great figure was lost to the psychoanalytic world; even more, that so many of us had suffered a great personal loss as well.
He had been widely admired among us for his contributions in writing, many of them in collaboration with Heinz Hartmann and Ernst Kris, and for the time and devotion he had given as a member and officer of psychoanalytic organizations. These, as well as the facts of his early history, were admirably summarized by Charles Brenner on the occasion of Dr. Loewenstein's seventy-fifth birthday in 1973. This tribute was published in This QUARTERLY, XLII, 1973, pp. 1-3, together with his impressive bibliography, compiled by Paula Gross (This QUARTERLY, XLII, 1973, pp. 4-10).
It seems more appropriate at this time to remind ourselves of his qualities as an analyst, teacher, and friend, roles in which so many of us remember him with the deepest affection and respect. As an analyst, one who devoted himself to the difficult yet fascinating task of achieving the deepest understanding of individuals, he was superb. Patient, understanding and discreet, devoted to the unending search for the roots of human conflict, of character, and of symptoms, he stood out as a particularly humane and tolerant analyst, flexible yet in no way inclined to compromise psychoanalytic principles. In addition, he was possessed of excellent common sense, which he did not disdain to use.
In his teaching, these same qualities were of the utmost value. Although his command of metapsychology was formidable—of the same order as his distinguished collaborators, Hartmann and Kris—he was notable for his grasp of clinical theory, especially the theory of technique. To hear him present an account of a case gave one the impression of somehow being within the