IN MEMORIAM: Enzo Crea

 
On Monday, 20 August 2007, Enzo Crea, longtime publisher of Edizione dell’ Elefante, passed from the Republic of Letters to the Paradise of Letters. Those of us privileged to have known Enzo find the idea of Rome without him a rather emptier place. It is not too much, indeed too little, to say that this web site would not have existed without his inspiration, and at the same time he would find it paradoxical (maybe even distasteful) to be paid homage to in such an ephemeral medium when his life’s work was the meticulous production of real, beautiful books. The inspiration he provided us at the Humanist Art Review was not in staking out turf in the ether, but rather in thinking seriously, idealistically and yet realistically, about the culture of humanism and whether one could aspire to that today. The example of his life and work would resoundingly, or perhaps sottovoce, claim a “yes.” For all his interest in the beautiful object (none more beautiful than a book), he insisted to me that the Renaissance was, first and foremost, a renaissance of humanism, and I have taken that to heart with as many of its implications as I can grasp.

Enzo was Aldus Manutius and Cassiano dal Pozzo, with a dash of Jorge Luis Borges, rolled into one. He early made a point of making his passions into reality, and managed in a world decreasingly literate in any serious sense to stake out a place for craft, thoughtfulness, and permanence in the form of elegant bound volumes — “volumes” that ranged from limited edition sheets to slipcased tomes. If Enzo’s refined sensibilities could seem almost English, and his haughty, penetrating intellect perhaps French, his ebullience and passion were gloriously Italian, and it is that for which many of us loved and appreciated him. I will cherish every exuberant moment I had with him, from our very first meeting in Paris where my wife Brette and I were spending a summer, and where within minutes of entering our little 5^éme etage apartment he was offering me Edizioni dell’Elefante productions and I was soon compelled to reciprocate by letting him choose from among my summer’s sanguine sketches (he, of course, choose the best one; and it is a mark of pride I will carry with me to my last days that he had it hung in his Rome apartment near a Boucher — validation like that comes along rarely). If the world all too often teeters toward “irrational exuberance,” and intellectuals mostly offer dispassion as an antidote, Enzo was a passionate intellectual in the Renaissance tradition, possessed of the madness of the Muses even if his art was the publication of the works of others.

It is only partially comforting to know that Enzo’s ripple effect has propagated around the world, with friends, admirers, and followers who, all in our own way, extend and sustain his example and his work. Not least of these is his son Alessio, who now shepherds the elephant into new territory. We who were shaped by Enzo’s example, charm, and generosity are Enzo, in a small way, and the flame he carried we carry too. If we can light as many other torches as he did, we will count ourselves lucky too someday in the Paradise of Letters.

Caro amico, non ho scritto in italiano, perchè non voglio imbarazzarmi, ma ricordo anche che mi hai raccontato la storia dell’ ambasciatore spagnolo chi ha detto “É un po’ maleducato parlare la lingua di qualcun altro troppo bene.”

Con grande affetto,

David Mayernik

 
 
"Humanism is a stream into which flow all the waters of the past, mingling the most diverse forms and ideas, fusing Christian allegory with the ancient symbols of the barbarian religions."
Jean Seznec, The Survival of the Pagan Gods, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1981, p. 121