Romania Gypsy and Folk Music Expedition

Welcome

2005-11-22T18:58:00.000+02:00

12 October, 2005

On October 13, 2005 I begin a month long journey into remote areas of Romania: Moldavia and then Dobrogea, and I am tending to this blog as my trip unfolds.

I am hunting for music and images of the people of Romania, both Romanians and Gypsies some of whom for good or for bad live almost as they did a hundred years ago.

As mass media takes root and reshapes peoples thinking toward a consumption based culture, and before the golden arches of American fast food replace the Moldavian road side prayer kiosks I aim to hunt down people and music, to learn and preserve.

Refer to the table of contents to the right, or use the links at the bottom of each entry to follow my trip chronologically.
next: First days in Bucharest

27 October: Suceviţa and points north cont'd

2005-10-27T23:39:00.000+03:00

After spending a day the in town of Rădautz looking around aimlessly for musicians whose names I had but not their exact location, it got late and I had to think about a place to stay. A friend of a friend lived not too far from the area, but I had not been able to reach him. Bernard Houliat, an author living in Suceviţa with his Romanian wife Erevelen (please tell me I got that right), was someone Bob Cohen directed me to. I finally did reach him on this very day. It was his wife who answered the phone and when I told her we were in the area and were looking for a pension, she laughed. What I didn’t know was that they themselves had a pension, of sorts. The Houliat’s home was destroyed in the July and August floods, so they were staying in what normally would have been a pension owned by the family. They welcomed us very warmly; we had dinner and chatted late into the night. Bernard had a Maremureş trumpet violin whose bridge had fallen so I fixed it and had a little play on it. We talked about Mucea (sp?) and they said they knew he was not leaving town until a couple days later. They would try to organize a get together for me with them. The next day we drove out to a village to meet another fiddler they pointed me to but we ran out of time before we found him; I wanted to get back to the Houliat’s to meet Mucea, which actually didn't work out. We did see these two little kids in the village we went to.

More to come: Bucharest, Clejani, Mîrşa, Constanţa. Come back soon.

Back to the welcome page

27 October: Suceviţa and points north

2005-10-27T21:29:00.000+03:00

We Stumbled onto a funeral, which in spite any perceived morbid interest on my part I photographed.

next: 27 October: Suceviţa and points north cont'd

27 October: Bukovina, Bilca

2005-10-27T17:52:00.000+03:00

We were now in Bucovina, a region that spans Northwest Moldavia and southern Ukraine. It has been occupied by the the Russians, the Romans, the Ottoman Turks, Hapsburg Austrians, (not in that order though) and most recently was split in two as a result of the scandlous Stalin-Hitler pact of 1939 I wanted to get to the Northern village Bilca to meet the violinist Mîrcea, and it wasn’t so easy. We got directions to his place easily enough, but actually getting there meant going a kilometer or so up a dirt road, which at a point got too rough to drive, and we walked the remaining distance up to the house. The house was at the top of a gentle slope and fronted by a a Bukovina gate (an example of which I am afraid I didn’t get a photo). We peered over the gate, called out to see if someone was home, but got only silence in return. The only sound I could hear was the whistle of the wind and the sound of my heartbeat. It turned out however to be Sorin whistling a tune and tapping his fingers on the gate though.

We took a look around the perimeter of the house and on the far side we found a man cutting grass with a scythe, his sharpening stone on his belt. Sorin asked him about Mîrcea, The man thought they might be down in the village having dinner, or maybe not, and we should go see his brother, maybe he would know more. He led us across a couple fields.

We were suddenly transported to Tolkien's Middle-Earth; there were no paths, we simply walked over the grass, and around some vegetables that were growing, through a fence and to a little house where our friend (who could have been Frodo Baggins) knocked on the door. Alas, there was no answer there either. I took a couple pictures of our guide and we set off on the journey back to the house. I fell behind the others when I met a family with their bikes crossing my path in the grass and then got lost on my way back to the house. I found my way easily enough when I heard Sorin call out for me, and didn’t get to go on an epic journey through Middle-Earth. Silly me.

next: 27 October: Suceviţa and points north

27 October: Judet Suceava

2005-10-27T13:30:00.000+03:00

In Iasi I had met Sandu, a fluier player, at the Avantaj, where, as I’m sure you remember, I performed in a jazz concert with the estimable Liviu Mărculescu. Sandu had a long fluier in metal that he had made himself. He changed the pitch by moving his finger on the end hole, in essence playing only the harmonics and not changing the length of the tube. Anyway, he knew a group in Suceava and later that evening he called me with some details. On the phone he spoke very loudly. I don’t know if he was compensating for the distance between our cell phones or trying to help me understand a foreign language, but in any event the name and number he gave me brought us in contact with the members of Flori de Zînziene folk group in the village of Zahareşti; singers, dancers and instrumentalists numbering around sixty. Sorin called and arranged a rendezvous at a country crossroads. We picked up Gheorghe Fărtăis, a trumpet and caval player and his young student, nine-year-old Gabriel, who plays caval.

Listen to Gabriel

Gabriel would be the star of the recording session. At the end of this session, I asked about violin players in the group, Someone got on the phone and arranged a meeting with the group's Primaş. We drove down to Suceava and methim at his bloc. His fiddle was at the Liceum de Muzica where he teaches so we piled back into the car and drove over there. He led us to his tiny office which contained a piano and numerous violins in various states of repair, a cobza a couple metronomes and a few bows hanging on the wall. He sent for a young accordian player and they started playing almost immediately. listen to the excerpt, he's playing great Carpathian style fiddle here; he is also an excellent pedagogue.

Hear Smochina and Co.

He spoke a little french and we communicated through an ungodly decimation of French and Romanian. After performing for a while I began to ask him questions about trills, ornamentations, bowings and the like.and he had clear answers for me which until now I had not really found. He even played me a slow motion Hora Martişulor so I can finally transcribe it correctly. He refused to accept money and it was only after my insisting on making it a donation to the school did he finally accept. I wish I could help him more, the atmosphere in the school was so positive and the level of playing was so high it’s a pity that they lack some of the things they need. The problem here was one of availability of instruments, and also money.

(I was able to supply them with seven bows once I got back to Bucharest)

next: 27 October: Bukovina, Bilca

26 October, Mihaileni: Maria Chiriloi

2005-10-26T15:43:00.000+03:00

We are now in the furthest north part of Romania, at one point only 100 meters from the Ukraine border. Here, we find the village of Mihaileni, where I had heard there were still people who spoke Yiddish. It seemed like a long shot. As we pulled into town I scanned the street for the oldest person out there at the moment; There was one guy, a gentleman of about fifty-five, standing in the driveway of a construction supply depot, who looked like a good prospect. We told him about our quest and he he disappeared into the depot building and came back out with a book published several years ago in honor of an event that was a celebration of the history of the village. The book mentions Jews extensively. Jews and Romanians lived side by side here, their children played with eachother, they attended eachothers weddings. The gentleman proposed that we buy this book for $80. I'm not sure if he had a clear idea of how much that was in lei, but I did, and politely declined.

I again asked if he knew anyone who spoke Yiddish and he said that he did, in fact. He got in the car and directed us down a fairly smooth dirt road toteh home of Maria Chiriloi, the most gracious and welcoming person you could possibly meet, even in rural Romania. She welcomed us into her house and we sat around her dining room table and talked. I asked her if she would speak in Yiddish to us, and she did. How strange it was to hear her speak. She sounded just like my old Tante Chave, and her house even smelled like Tante Chave's. We chatted for a while, I kept goading her to speak yiddish while I checked the recoding machine actually getting this down.

Maria grew up with Jews, her best little girl friend was Jewish. She said their lives were quite integrated. many people in the village spoke Yiddish, German and Romanian. She and the gentleman who helped us find her both have a genuine fondness and sadness for the Jews and the history of jews in Mihaileni.

next: 27 October: Judet Suceava

25 October, Botoşani: Ansambulul Datina, led by Constantin Lupu

2005-10-25T15:32:00.000+03:00

Our guide on this segment of our trip was the director of a group that is keeping alive the traditional folk music of Moldavia. Lupu knows all the musicians in Botoşani county and is himself a violin virtuoso in the style. He set up a recording session with his group in his office in the Cultural House of Botoşani with five musicians from town. These were teachers and professionals. It was an excellent session. I was so excited about the recording and making sure the mic was well placed that I completely forgot to take photos till after the end of the session. I'll post some excerpts from the recording soon. I have to catch up on my blog writing fist.

next: 26 October, Mihaileni: Maria Chiriloi

25 October, Havîrna, Gheorghe Ciucur, Ion Badurlă

2005-10-25T15:21:00.000+03:00

Gheorghe was very reluctant to come out, and we ended up waiting three hours fo him to come at the village cafe. he finally came out and we spent some time with him in he Cultural House, an institution found in most Romanian villages. He hadn't played for a long time, and he took a while to warm up. Once he did he sounded great. One could hear that he was a fantastic fiddler earlier in his life. His accompanist was Ion Bardulă, a hardware store owner from a close by village.

next: 25 October, Botoşani: Ansambulul Datina, led by Constantin Lupu

24 October, Vorona: Gheoghe Ţugui

2005-10-24T14:58:00.000+03:00

This guy was amazing and he didn't let us forget it. Mask maker, craftsman, fluier maker and bon vivant, I drank the most ţuica in one in his tiny living room since I hit the road. He lives in a village that has a Centru, a downtown if you will. Big eyes.

Ţugui started playing only after he showed us his diplomas, which in Romanian refers to certificates of recognition or prizes given at a cultural event. He wanted to present a few, and I started snapping photos. The diplomas kept coming. Soon his wife came in bearing a scrapbook of yet more diplomas, and I kept shooting politely. I had to give up after a while though, worn out with the shear quantity of his recognition.

While I refreshed myself with a shot of ţuica and some tasty roasted peppers brought in by Mrs. Ţugui, Gheorghe started to play. Cobza, Caval, fluier, and this tiny reed instrument whose name I donţt know, about the size of a number 2 pencil.

next: 25 October, Havîrna, Gheorghe Ciucur, Ion Badurlă

24 October: Călineşte, Nicolae Amarandei

2005-10-24T12:10:00.000+03:00

Nicolae Amarandei, village fiddler. He was humble, surprised that someone would be interested enough in his playing to come out to his place. His home is beautiful, cozy and welcoming, he and his wife insisted that we stay for a meal and a shot of ţuica, moonshine made in the country, mostly by the people who drink it. It varies a lot from the barely drinkable to pretty mellow. Can be habit-forming, when you come here you will drink some every time you visit someone in the country.

Armandei played some beautiful cîntece jale, sad mournful songs, and doine, another kind of mournful song.

Sound: Amarandei: Cîntec Jale

next: 24 October, Vorona: Gheorghe Ţugui

24 October: On the Road

2005-10-24T11:43:00.000+03:00

On the road again to Botoşani. Here's a shepard and some of his sheep.

next: 24 October: Călineşte, Nicolae Amarandei

22 October: A Jazz Gig in Iasi

2005-10-22T10:38:00.000+03:00

Now here's something I didn't expect. I got hired to play a jazz concert in Iasi as art of the "Jazz în Cartier" series produced by the truly amazing Mihaela Marculescu, wife of the less amazing but but excellent musician Liviu Marculescu. The part that was unexpected was that I got paid, and I got paid better than playing at say, Martyr's on a tuesday night! or the Bad Dog. (Alfonso take note!) It was a blast, Liviu and I fronted the band and the young backup group swung hard. I got my picture on the front page of the Ziarul de Iasi, and write-up in the Monitorul. I was a sensation in Iasi for 24 hours. Then, as swiftly as I was propelled me to fame, I was forgotten, just like hollywood. All kidding aside it was one of the most appreciative audiences I have played for and the club was packed, standing room only, and it got me thinking how fun it would be to do a tour of Romania with some local jazz players. Then I would have a reason to come back and use all this Romanina I've been using. Totuşi, trebuie să mă duc, întălnesc cu cineva. Pa!

next: 24 October: On the Road

21 October: Prisăcani; Alecu Crudu

2005-10-21T10:01:00.000+03:00

Priscăcani was my second stop on this branch of the journey, we got to this village without too much trouble, and once there asked around and were pointed to Crudu's place. It was up a hill along a two rut road even a horse would have a difficult time navigating, so we left the car on the main road through the village, itself a dirt road, and climbed the hill to Crudu's house. It looked deserted except for a ferocious sounding guard dog. We had hung around for a few minutes and were pondering whether to leave when we saw a woman come up the hill from a field off to the side of the yard. She carried a large burlap sac filled with maize, and behind her was a second woman, older, with another bag. It’s harvest time in Moldavia. The first woman saw us and tied the dog to a stake and
then came Alecu Crudu. He was a formidable sight, he had big white beard and wore thick eye-glasses. He lumbered up the hill into the yard with a couple large sacs of maize. When he saw us he stopped and put the sacs down and had a look at us. Sorin explained what we were doing and after a moments time to consider the idea, he invited us into the house.

Crudu sings and plays the fish scale. He puts the scale in his mouth it sound it makes is similar to a sort of rough sounding clarinet. While I acted as technician and photographer he chatted with Sorin, belaboring the state of Romania today, the decline of Romanian culture and the commercialization and sexualization of music. He held that things were better in the days of communism.

Sound: Crudu singing

There was a warmth between the three of them, his wife’s fondness very evident. After the impromptu fish scale concert he sang for us for 15 minutes. It was amazing to be listening to this man performing songs from traditions that are pretty much lost. I might be mistaken but I heard a haunting echo of ancient Jewish cantorial singing in the beginning of the excerpt posted here. Check it out for yourself.

Dusk was at hand and we needed to get down the hill while there was still some light. I was able to give him something from the fund and they were very grateful, they said it came at a very good time, as they were in serious need of money at that moment. We could have showed up at any moment of course, and it would have been just as true.

next: 22 October: A Jazz Gig in Iaşi

21 October, Stefaneşte; Blondu

2005-10-21T09:10:00.000+03:00

Lupu pointed me to a couple of poorer musicians around the area, since I mentioned I had some money from donations to give out. Our first expedition was out to the village Ştefăneşti (note spelling) in the east part of Botoşani county, to meet Blondu, a half Jewish half Gypsy musician whose house was at the very end of a rutted dirt road, on the outskirts of a village which was itself on the outskirts of, well, the outskirts. He was happy enough to play, but he kept drifting towards a repertoire of pop tunes new and old, the high point of which was when his son set up a drum set and they played a great rendition of Stevie Wonder’s hit “I Just Called to Say I Love You”. It was surreal. I kid you not, the drum set looked like it came straight out of a Flintstones episode and it sounded great.
Sound: Blondu Playing Doina (Stevie Wonder tune available on request)
Once I started taking photos the whole family wanted in and some other gypsies from this adjunct village came down the road asking for money and wanting to have their photos taken too. Each time I took picture the person I shot would run over to me to have a look at the result on the screen of my digital camera.

Blondu played a few folk tunes, but like I said he mostly stuck to the pop stuff. He suffered from the same delusion other Gypsy musicians I know have, that non-gypsies want to hear familiar music. Not an entirely wrong assumption, but I know that when I go to hear gypsies play I’m not exactly hoping they’ll play a rendition of BTO’s Taking Care of Business.

next: 21 October: Prisăcani; Alecu Crudu

20 October: Judeţul (county) Botoşani; Constantin Lupu

2005-10-20T22:15:00.000+03:00

I stayed in Iaşi for two days, and then we headed up to Botosani, incidentally the birthplace of my maternal grandparents.
The man to see in Botoşani was Constantin Lupu, almost everyone I talked to in preparation for this trip mentioned him and the Cobza player he played with, Constantin Negel. He knows every folk musician in the region and the villages where they live. Speranţa Rădulescu had called him and gave me an introduction and he was expecting us. Sadly, Negel had passed away three months before I arrived in Romania, but Lupu was definitely alive and kicking. A wirey guy somewhere around fifty, a great fiddle player and a gentleman, except when he was engaged in the kind of backroom lowbrow humor musicians who play private parties anywhere in the world are prone to. It’s funny how that works. No matter how far away I go, the jobbing mentality is the same. It must be something about playing at other peoples weddings. Lupu had great advice for us, starting with some people to see around Botoşani.

More to come...

next: 21 October, Stefaneşte; Blondu

20 October: Hîrlău

2005-10-20T11:14:00.000+03:00

Back in time a couple days, An Old Jewish cemetery in Hîrlău, where my maternal grandfather was born. I looked for my grandfather's name on the tombstones but couldn’t find it. Maybe this cemetery is three hundred years old. There were Jews in Moldavia as far back as the 16th century; of course there are almost none now.
I did find a woman in the far north, near the border of Ukraine who grew up in a Jewish/Roamian community, and she still speaks Yiddish. I have photos and recordings which will come to the blog soon.
The people in the photo here are cemetery’s caretaker and his family. Poor, the house they live in which is more or less a largish a shack in the cemetery.
The roof is partly plastic sheeting. They said they are receiving very little support from the Romanian Jewish Community. Man, people are so poor here. Don't mean to be a wet blanket but that is the biggest impression in rural Moldavia. Here, I'll lighten up a little. On the bright side they don't eat any processed foods.

next: 20 October: Judetul (county) Botoşani; Constantin Lupu

Arrival in Iaşi.

2005-10-18T23:59:00.000+03:00

18 October, 2005

I got to Iaşi around midnight, I took the afternoon train since, due to poor planning on my part, I couldn’t get a night train. A sleeper car is a little more than double the price of a seat, already quite cheap, and it saves a night of hotel costs, or a friends inconvenience...

I had hired a driver and guide/translator for this leg of a trip, who would be much more than those things. Sorin C. is my Romanian language tutor, and a very special person. He does translations, teaches English to Romanians, and Romanian to English or French speakers. He is a composer, was a stand up comedian, a computer programmer and a few other things I forgot. Sorin excels at attention to details and I don’t, to say the least, so it was a good match. Sorin is also an excellent traveling companion, most of the time, (heh) and understood perfectly what I was doing and was very enthusiastic about the project.

For my first night in Iaşi I chose the cheapest option for a hotel, which was a big mistake, the place I got was a hell hole called Casa Bucovineană

Okay, not a hell hole, but the worst hotel I've stayed in including that period in my early twenties when I could stay absolutely anywhere.If you do go there make sure you get a room that faces the street otherwise you could end up in a room with a window the gives out on the indoor roofed “courtyard” and the window curtain affords only the minimum of privacy. One star, $20, have a look at the room before you pay.

next: 20 October: Hîrlau

What I actually did in Bucharest

2005-10-18T22:42:00.000+03:00

17 October, 2005

The main thing I had to do in Bucharest was to meet with Speranta Radulescu, an ethnomusicologist who has been studying Romanian folk music for decades. I already had some info from the Venerable Bob Cohen of the Dinaye Kapelye, and it was he who suggested I see her. I met her at her office and presented her with the offering of some cassettes I had heard she was interested in, Jewish music from Bucovina, mainly, from the early 1900s. I hoped she would give me village names and information on people I might be interested in. She was extremely gracious, inviting me to her home where we discussed everything from the political situation in the USA (apocolyptic) the communist regime in Romania. She gave me a few hints on places to go, and a couple names and addresses which would later bear great fruit.

My friend Liviu Marculescu, a trombone player I met on my last trip here played in a concert with the great Romanian blues singer A.G. Weinberger. The concert was great, A.G. is a great showman, you should see him the next time you get over to Romania. He lived in Chicago for a while and played at the Kingston Mines, Rosa's, and other blues clubs in town. What small world.
Mihai took me to see the RADU Simion Concert at Caru Cu Bere, a famous restaurant with fatastic ornamentation and arched ceilings where I had a chat with with violinst NITU Sorin, one of Zisu (Mihai) Gutulan's best friends. Nicolae Feraru, Mihai and Sorin played and recorded in the RADU group in the seventies and eighties. They toured in something like forty different countries. The photo below is of Strada Stavropoleos on the way to the restaurant.

next: Arrival in Iaşi

More Impressions of Bucharest.

2005-10-17T22:16:00.000+03:00

17 October, 2005

In Bucharest I stayed with the friend who picked me up at the airport, Mihai Guţulan, a double bass player, and his wife Florenţa. I met them in Chicago through Nicolae Feraru, a formidable Cembalom player who emigrated to the US in ’88. Mihai’s generosity knew no bounds, and though he didn’t have money to through around, He wanted to care for me and was always ready to guide me or take me to where I needed to go. Mihai came back to Romania after trying for ten years to get a green card the honest way in the USA.

The city looked bad when I got here, but in a few days I began to adapt my perspective. Bucharest’s appearance belies its reality. Soviet era apartment blocks line the streets, built in the eighties after dictator Nicolae Ceaucescu had historic boulevards bulldozed in a systematic creation of uniform bloc housing. But people do not act as if they live in as bleak a place as it might seem.

In areas of town that were not destroyed by the dictator’s ill advised projects the architecture looks like a distressed Paris. left to founder in time. Grand old buildings have been partially restored but left unfinished, for lack of funds or interest. (see photo.)

Stray dogs of every breed roam the streets, a few missing a limb. None that I met were mean. In the metro children, some carrying babies, beg in the train wagons. Frequently barefoot or wearing plastic bathroom sandals, their parents are likely waiting at a station down the line. They board the train and chant their plea in a rhythmic drone. Some people give, as many Bucharestians are not inured to the frightful condition of these people.

There are people here in Romania who were gravely injured by the change of society that came with the “revolution”. Many musicians, for example, who had been touring the world and who had a high standard of living were suddenly without work. This for some was after a successful career spanning twenty years. Others are those who were finishing their schooling or starting careers, for many of these people the end of government support in their field was a blow that they could only survive through sheer strength of psychological will, and sometimes the result was an apocalyptic view, the belief that for Romania there is no future. Personally I reserve judgment.

next: What I actually did in Bucharest

First Days: Bucharest

2005-10-16T16:40:00.000+03:00

16 October, 2005

I arrived the day before yesterday at the Bucharest airport, Otopeni, after
12 hours of transit, including a short layover in Zurich. I must be crazy for traveling in Romanian this year; waking up this morning in the home of my friends Mihai and Florenţa I hear the rain against the windows of this 9th floor communist era flat. The rain sounds like its been falling for months, and will persevere forever. Glad I brought galoshes.

Bucharest gives the impression of a fallen city. It aches under the weight of 50 years of communist oppression followed by 15 years of greedy profit-taking.. On my way from the Airport with Mihai and Florin (Mihai doesn't drive, and his friend's son Florin and he had picked me up) I witnessed the devastation myself. A building that had been the National Library sat gutted, its dark glassless windows gaping blindly out onto the road into town. Near the embassies were a few distressed mansions, their yards overgrown with bramble, their walls streaked from water leaking through decayed gutters. Downtown didn't look much better; one enormous building was covered with advertising posters 50 feet high. At first it gave the impression of being like Times Square in New York City, but on second view one could see the exterior of the building was destroyed, the windows boarded. Inside the building was the Bucharest Mall. Though I didn't visit this mall, I did visit another. (there are two large ones here) The contrast was stark. The inside of the mall was luxurious. Shiny advertising, slick store entrances, a starbucks-like café selling coffee at $3 a cup. People were sitting there drinking the coffee though salaries have not gone up even a third of how much prices have gone up. I compared it like this: When someone goes to the mall in the US and has a coffee they might spend one or two hundredths of their salary. Here it could be as much as ten times that.
Imagine paying $15-$20 for a cup of coffee at the Starbucks around the corner. Apparently here people do.

We stopped in a CD store to have a look around and I found one I had been wanting to buy for a while but wasn't available (reasonably) in the states.
Benone Damian, one of the great Lăutari of Romania. It cost the equivalent of 6 USD. Weird. Good for me I suppose, since I don't like to drink coffee in mall cafes, and do like to buy CDs.

More soon,

steve

next: More Impressions of Bucharest

Welcome

2005-10-12T18:44:00.000+03:00

On October 13, 2005 I'm taking a month long journey into remote areas of Romania: Moldavia and then Dobrogea, and I will be tending to this blog as my trip unfolds.

I am hunting for music and images of the people of Romania, both Romanians and Gypsies some of whom for good or for bad live almost as they did a hundred years ago.

As mass media takes root and reshapes peoples thinking toward a consumption based culture, and before the golden arches of American fast food replace the Moldavian road side prayer kiosks I aim to hunt down people and music, to learn and preserve.