Category: RRI Encyclopaedia

There are four statues in front of the University of Bucharest building in downtown Bucharest, one of them a bust of Spiru Haret. He was what we would call a polymath, having studied and excelled in math, physics and astronomy. He also reformed education. He was part of the generation of the first union of Romanians, that of 1859, when the medieval principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia united. It was also the first generation of people who committed to building a Western type democracy. Haret was an innovative spirit, a hard working person willing to put his efforts into building a dignified society.

He was born in 1851 in Iasi, at one point capital of the principality of Moldavia, part of the local Armenian community. He loved mathematics, and studied it to the fullest extent. As early as high school, Haret published two textbooks, one of algebra and another of trigonometry. In 1875 he got his degree in math in Paris, and the following year he got a degree in physics. In 1878 he earned his PhD in astronomy. In his thesis he continued research initiated by Laplace, Lagrange and Puisseux. His great contribution to the study of planets consisted in establishing that planetary axes are not absolute, as Kepler had postulated. In fact, Haret was the first Romanian to ever earn a high degree in that discipline. As such, there is a lunar crater named after him. When he became minister of education, Haret established the first astronomical observatory in Romania.

Even though he was invited to remain in France in a teaching position, he came back to his native Romania to fulfill a lifelong dream, that of reforming education. In order to do that, he realized he had to go into politics. He signed up with the National Liberal Party, and was appointed minister of religious denominations and education under several governments between 1897 and 1910.

His education reforms were not simply an effort to create institutions, it became an attitude in itself. The premise was simple. In 1899, Romania had a rural population of around 84%, with 87% illiteracy rate. The mathematician published a brochure called The Peasant Issue, where he was analyzing the state of retardation that Romanian culture was under, especially in the countryside. In his opinion, education reform had to occur at the same time that Romanian peasants were given land to own, alongside a reform of justice and administration across the board. This also had to be accompanied by the promotion of better labor values. The 1864 law of education introduced obligatory four year schooling for all, and was starting to show its limitations after 35 years. Haret realized that this system would doom the next generation to ignorance, putting in peril Romania’s economic future. Between 1901 and 1904, Haret introduced very effective reforms. One of his aims was to train people in trades that would result in the formation of a corps of public servants. He set up a large number of primary and lower schools, reduced high school to three years, and divided high school education in various specialty sections. He also did away with high school graduation exams, and established that university education was available only based on an entrance exam.

Haret was influenced by Auguste Comte’s school of thinking. He tried to use mathematical models in his social thinking, and started generating a model to explain social phenomena. In 1905, he published a book called Social Mechanism, where he stipulated that social balance may be obtained by the principle of minimal action. The direction was not very fruitful, since it was considered obsolete in Western academic circles.

Spiru Haret died on 17 December 1912, the same year that Romania incurred one of its heaviest losses, that of writer and journalist Ion Luca Caragiale.

There are four statues in front of the University of Bucharest building in downtown Bucharest, one of them a bust of Spiru Haret. He was what we would call a polymath, having studied and excelled in math, physics and astronomy. He also reformed education. He was part of the generation of the first union of Romanians, that of 1859, when the medieval principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia united. It was also the first generation of people who committed to building a Western type democracy. Haret was an innovative spirit, a hard working person willing to put his efforts into building a dignified society.

He was born in 1851 in Iasi, at one point capital of the principality of Moldavia, part of the local Armenian community. He loved mathematics, and studied it to the fullest extent. As early as high school, Haret published two textbooks, one of algebra and another of trigonometry. In 1875 he got his degree in math in Paris, and the following year he got a degree in physics. In 1878 he earned his PhD in astronomy. In his thesis he continued research initiated by Laplace, Lagrange and Puisseux. His great contribution to the study of planets consisted in establishing that planetary axes are not absolute, as Kepler had postulated. In fact, Haret was the first Romanian to ever earn a high degree in that discipline. As such, there is a lunar crater named after him. When he became minister of education, Haret established the first astronomical observatory in Romania.

Even though he was invited to remain in France in a teaching position, he came back to his native Romania to fulfill a lifelong dream, that of reforming education. In order to do that, he realized he had to go into politics. He signed up with the National Liberal Party, and was appointed minister of religious denominations and education under several governments between 1897 and 1910.

His education reforms were not simply an effort to create institutions, it became an attitude in itself. The premise was simple. In 1899, Romania had a rural population of around 84%, with 87% illiteracy rate. The mathematician published a brochure called The Peasant Issue, where he was analyzing the state of retardation that Romanian culture was under, especially in the countryside. In his opinion, education reform had to occur at the same time that Romanian peasants were given land to own, alongside a reform of justice and administration across the board. This also had to be accompanied by the promotion of better labor values. The 1864 law of education introduced obligatory four year schooling for all, and was starting to show its limitations after 35 years. Haret realized that this system would doom the next generation to ignorance, putting in peril Romania’s economic future. Between 1901 and 1904, Haret introduced very effective reforms. One of his aims was to train people in trades that would result in the formation of a corps of public servants. He set up a large number of primary and lower schools, reduced high school to three years, and divided high school education in various specialty sections. He also did away with high school graduation exams, and established that university education was available only based on an entrance exam.

Haret was influenced by Auguste Comte’s school of thinking. He tried to use mathematical models in his social thinking, and started generating a model to explain social phenomena. In 1905, he published a book called Social Mechanism, where he stipulated that social balance may be obtained by the principle of minimal action. The direction was not very fruitful, since it was considered obsolete in Western academic circles.

Spiru Haret died on 17 December 1912, the same year that Romania incurred one of its heaviest losses, that of writer and journalist Ion Luca Caragiale.

In 1988, during the construction works on a big boulevard in the Romanian Black Sea port of Constanta, a genuine archaeological treasure was discovered: an ancient burial chamber, which was found in mint condition. It seems that it belonged to a wealthy family, which used to live in the 4th- 5th centuries in the former ancient city of Tomis, on the site of what is today known as Constanta. Except for six skeletons, nothing else was found in the tomb. The beauty and uniqueness of the chamber lies in its mural paintings, which feature very well preserved images and colours. Constantin Chera, from the History and Archaeology Museum in Constanta was there in 1988 when the hypogeum was discovered and described it for us:

“It is a burial chamber, probably built around the year 430 AD, judging by the decorative elements found inside. Until 1988 when it was discovered, no one had opened it. Two layers of funerary deposits were found inside, one of which was intact. We didn’t find too many objects inside, probably because the tomb belonged to a Christian family from Tomis, but this is not sure yet. We didn’t find any explicit Christian symbols on the walls, but there are many decorative elements that were taken over by Christian iconography. We cannot clearly state, though, that it was indeed a family of Christians. At the time, Christians were still being persecuted, despite the proclamation of the Edict of Milan by Emperor Constantine the Great in 313 AD, which recognised Christianity as one of the religions of the Roman Empire.”

The word “hypogeum” has a Greek origin and means “underground”. None of the other hypogea found in the area, some of which were reused as burial places, features a similar mural painting as the hypogeum in Constanta. The archaeologist Constantin Chera explains:

“One of the walls depicts a funeral banquet, a scene which can be associated with today’s practice of giving alms and holding a memorial for the dead. The funeral banquet in question is held around a circular table, where six little bread baskets were placed. Two of the figures even hold cups in their hands, while to the left and right of the image we find the host, the person who gives the funeral banquet and his domestic slave tending to the guests seated at the funeral table. On the other walls we can see two peacocks, which symbolise immortality, eating pomegranates from a basket. Above the entrance, there are four pigeons drinking water from a kantharos, a deep vessel common at the time. The western wall features four partridges sitting around a kantharos in a landscape with poppies. These scenes are very significant, being taken over from pre-Christian iconography, from the Hellenistic and Roman ages, but we are still trying to find a scientifically accurate interpretation of them.”

Such work of art needs to be preserved in special conditions, so for the time being the site is not open to the public. The archaeologist Constantin Chera explains:

“We did everything we could to preserve the site in the condition in which it was found 1,600 years after being created. We covered the chamber made of stone and brick with a layer of earth, to preserve the microclimate conditions and prevent sudden changes in temperature and humidity levels. The site has been preserved in the condition we found it, but for a few interventions from restorers, who managed to stabilise and clean the painting. At the moment, the burial chamber is protected by a temporary insulating structure. “

This temporary solution should last until the required funding is found to provide more appropriate protection for the hypogeum in Constanta.

The ‘Elie Wiesel’ International Commission for the Study of the Holocaust in Romania has included in its latest report the deportation of the Roma or “Gypsies” to Transdniester, as part of the Antonescu regime’s ethnic cleansing plan. Until 1942, when the deportation of the Roma started, there hadn’t been a so-called ‘Roma issue’ in the Romanian society. Marginalized, living on the outskirts of towns and villages, the gypsies were not among the national minorities recognized by the Romanian state in the inter-war period. In 1942, the then Central Statistics Institute reported that there were over 208.700 gypsies in Romania, 41 thousand of which were recorded in a census that certain year. The census was aimed at establishing how many of them were nomads and how many had criminal records or were jobless. After the results were made public, it was decided that 12% of them be deported to Transdniester. Here is Adrian Nicolae Furtuna, the author of a book entitled ‘Why Don’t They Cry? The Roma Holocaust and Their True Story’ – has more details about those deported.

“Figures show that about 25 thousand Roma had been deported to Transdniester. This is, however, only a number estimated by the Holocaust Commission and published in the report. According to some Roma organizations and researchers, the real number seems to be much bigger. In the case of traditional Roma, the lack of Ids continues to be a problem, even at present. Imagine how things stood 70 years ago. Deportations began in June. The first group of traditional Roma was sent to the camps on June the 1st, 1942. They were considered carriers of disease and in some cases were even suspected of being spies, because of their nomadic way of life. The second group, this time of sedentary Roma, was deported in September, the same year. The most frequent reasons for deportation were their criminal records and the fact that they were jobless. We cannot accurately say when deportations ended. 1942 is a possible date.”

Following the two deportation waves that year, more than 11 thousand nomadic and over 13 thousand sedentary gypsies from all over Romania were sent to Transdniester. Here is Adrian Nicolae Furtuna again:

“They were practically deceived. The gendarmes told them they would be given houses there and animals to cultivate the land, but once in Transdniester some of them were sent to labor camps, where they had to work to get food. They slept in underground clay huts and sometimes in houses that had once belonged to the local Ukrainians. 1942 was a cold year and many Gypsies died during the harsh winter. Another major aspect is that out of the total 11 thousand dead that year, 6000 were children. Cold, hunger and epidemics took their toll on the gypsies who lived in squalid camps on the sandy banks of river Bug. Sometimes, they would get some supplies from the army units stationed near their camps in Bogdanovca, Domanovka, which were close to the frontline. According to official documents they did get some food, but much less than it was mentioned in the papers.”

Out of the 25 thousand Roma deported to Transdniester, about 11 thousand died in the camps and only 14 thousand survived. While doing research for his book, between 2008 and 2010, Adrian Nicolae Furtuna interviewed 28 survivors. Their memories make up the backbone of his book “Why Don’t They Cry? The Roma Holocaust and Their True Story”.

Right at the heart of Bucharest, on Henri Coanda Street, there lies a heritage building of exquisite beauty; this is the Macca Residence, presently housing the National Institute of Archeology and the Museum of Antiquities. Built in mid 19th Century, the Macca Residence is one of Bucharest’s oldest heritage buildings, and back in its time it was quite a novelty in terms of style and dimensions. With the Romanian principalities in full process of westernization and opening to trade shortly after 1830, increasingly sumptuous boyar mansions were built, resembling those in Western Europe.

The residence belonged to colonel Petre Macca, a hero of the 1877 War of Independence, and his wife Elena, known for her charity work with the Romanian Orthodox Church. Here is academician Alexandru Vulpe, director of the Vasile Parvan Institute of Archaeology, with more on this building.

Alexandru Vulpe: “We don’t exactly know, when the house was built but what we do know is that somewhere around 1860 the house was already inhabited. It has gone through a series of restoration works along the years, and today we can consider it a late 19th Century architecture monument. Built in the baroque style with elements of mannerist architecture, the mansion is one of the most prestigious historical and art monuments in Bucharest.”

With a total surface of 370 square meters, the mansion has four levels: a basement, ground floor, a first floor and a penthouse. The baroque style, rich in exterior and interior decorations and ornaments, garlands, various vegetal and geometric elements, is obvious. The mansion’s walls and ceilings have paintings with meaningful stylistic suggestions, while some of its stuccowork is covered in thin layers of gold. Towards the end of the 19th century, the balconies were restored with Art Nouveau elements and a large new stained glass window was added. Maybe these are the last restoration works ordered by the owners before their death, upon which the mansion was donated to the Ministry of Education.

After a while the mansion started to be used as the headquarters of the Museum of Antiquities. Here is Alexandru Vulpe again.

Alexandru Vulpe: “The Museum of Antiquities dates back to 1830, after governor Mihalache Ghica had donated his collection of old artifacts to the state. These objects together with a collection that belonged to general Mavros, a friend of colonel Macca’s, were the first on view at this museum founded through a decree by Prince Alexandru Ioan Cuza in 1864, and at that time there was no connection to this building. Paradoxically, the mansion came to host this museum thanks to Mrs. Macca’s will, which she made after the death of her husband. The donation was reconfirmed in 1931 by the government led by Nicolae Iorga. It has been known as the National Museum of Antiquities ever since, and has hosted almost the entire archaeological research conducted in Romania after WWl.”

The Institute of Archeology was founded in 1956 under a decree issued by the Council of Ministers and it was subordinated to the Romanian Academy. From that moment on the Macca Residence has been considered part of the Romanian Academy, housing the Institute of Archeology, which also includes the old Museum of Antiquities. At present the mansion is in an advanced state of decay and in sore need of capital restoration. Sadly, in spite of the consistent efforts made, the Institute has failed to raise the money needed for restoration. And thus one of Bucharest’s historical buildings is slowly falling apart.

They were mainly built during the communist regime, between 1950 and 1989. Besides a job and a car, an apartment in a block of flats was the sign of social ascent and escape from the narrow rural environment. Romania’s urban development and planning were tightly linked with the process of industrialization, during which entire neighborhoods of blocks of flats were built near plants and factories.

Blocks of flats, however, are an invention of western civilization, based on the principle of strict order and regulations, inspired by the classical utopia of the perfect society, the organization of monasteries and military barracks. The socialist phalanstery imagined by Charles Fourier in the first half of the 19th century was not far from the reality of the blocks built later. The Socialist thinking associated blocks of flats to progress and the working class, as having a house with a yard was seen as a sign of bourgeoisie. The sobriety, minimalism and functionality of blocks of flats prevailed in the shaping of a new trend in architecture.

The block as a trend in Romania emerged in early 1920s, after the creation of Greater Romania, and gained momentum in the 1930s, when Americanism started to become popular. Young people from rich families would no longer want to live in their parents’ big houses and would claim their independence by buying for themselves an apartment in downtown Bucharest or other city. It was also then that the modernist architecture of Romanian towns started to gain shape, incorporating multi-storey block of flats, made of concrete.

Young Romanian architects educated abroad, especially in Paris, brought to Romania the latest trends in the Euro-American urbanism. Architect, painter and essayist Marcel Iancu and architect Horia Creanga, writer Ion Creanga’s grandson, were two of the most representative promoters of modernist and cubist architecture. Thanks to them, the Magheru and Calea Victoriei boulevards became home to the most ambitious and futurist blocks built in Romania. One of the best known such building was the 14-storied Carlton, which collapsed though during the earthquake of November 10th, 1940. Other famous blocks in interwar Bucharest were Wilson, Aro and Nestor.

After 1950, the enlargement of the capital city and of other towns was done according to a systematic policy of building blocks for the working class. Bringing people from villages to towns and cities increased the demand for such blocks. Their configuration was very much to the liking of the political police, as people were much easier to control. The standard blocks had 4 and 10 storeys. Tower blocks started to be built in the 1980s. Statistics show that in 1989, some 75% of Bucharest’s inhabitants lived in a block of flats. One of the most representative buildings of the communist period was the Intercontinental Hotel, built between 1968-1970.

After 1989, tower blocks made of glass and steel started to emerge in Romania, as office buildings for multi-nationals and later, after 2000 as apartment buildings. The modern trends led to the incorporation of glass forms in historical buildings, such as the Novotel Hotel in Bucharest, whose façade recalls the building of the National Theater, destroyed by bombardiers in August 1944.

The upheaval that began in 1821 and the western path embraced by the Romanian Principalities prevented this from happening. Nicolae Sutu became instead a highly competent public servant in the Romanian state, which was just beginning to modernise in the first half of the 19th century.

The Humanitas Publishers in Bucharest has recently brought out the memoirs of Nicolae Sutu in a book coordinated by Georgeta Filitti, who tells us more about this great figure: “He had an exemplary career. He even served as chamberlain, a position which in the 19th century was similar to that of foreign affairs minister. He also held many other positions, so he was actively involved in the running of the country. He also contributed to the drafting of the Organic Statutes, an early model of a constitution for the Romanian Principalities, which was intensely criticised at the time. However, these Organic Statutes established a number of principles in all areas. Although the country was under Russian administration at the time and the Russians approved and issued this document, this piece of legislation is in its essence Romanian, and Nicolae Sutu is one of the people who drafted it.“

Nicolae Sutu started to write his memoirs in French, in 1853, almost 20 years before his death, in 1871. Apart from good knowledge of the political life of his time, you can also tell their author has genuine literary talent.

Georgeta Filitti explains: ”Nicolae Sutu was an educated man and in his charming memoirs he highlights his efforts to broaden his knowledge constantly. He thus gradually realises that the only way for the country to go forward was to adopt this new legislation. His memoirs provide an extensive record of the incredible number of laws he drafted and his deep involvement in the good things achieved in Moldavia. He also provides compelling descriptions of the political climate of his day, creating some extraordinary portraits of two Moldavian rulers, Mihai Sturdza and Grigore Ghica.”

Between 1831 and 1832 Nicolae Sutu contributed to the drafting of the Organic Statutes, and later participated in the events that led to the union of the principalities of Wallachia and Moldavia in 1859. He took an active part in the transformations that began at that time, despite not always agreeing with the changes being initiated or the politicians of the day. Sutu was also interested in economics and is even considered the first Romanian economist and statistician, thanks to his two works, “A Short Review of Moldavia’s Economic Situation”, published in 1838, and “Statistical Notes on Moldavia”, published in 1849.

Georgeta Filitti told us more about this aspect of Nicolae Sutu’s career: “He is the first Romanian economist with statistical notions about Moldavia. His book is fundamental as he had access to a series of documents, which are now lost. The book was also well received internationally. We get a clear picture of Moldavia in mid 19th century, as it comprises figures about its output, population, consumption, export etc. The book is very valuable and the author depicted the political figures of his time in a very interesting manner. When he didn’t like a certain person, he knew how to put it into words. A politician he didn’t like, for example, was Mihail Kogalniceanu, the advisor to ruling prince Cuza and a man who accomplished most of what he set out to do. Sutu, however, did not hold these accomplishments in high esteem. For someone who wants to see how life was in the Romanian principalities at the time, reading Sutu’s memoirs is a pleasure.”

“The Memoirs of Prince Nicolae Sutu”, translated and coordinated by Georgeta Filitti for Humanitas publishing house are now available to the wide public, not only to experts.

Born on January 17, 1892 into a Jewish family in the town of Burdujeni, northern Romania, Iosif’s love affair with photography started very early. Back in the time of WWI, he accompanied Romanian troops right up to the frontline as a war correspondent. After the war he settled in Bucharest where he began the most fruitful cooperation of his career, with journalist Filip Brunea-Fox, a man his peers dubbed the ‘Prince of the Reporting’. Between 1924 and 1938 the two worked for two newspapers, ‘Adevarul’ (the Truth in Romanian) and ‘Dimineata’ (The Morning Post). Researcher Anca Aurelia Ciuciu with the Centre for the Studies of the Jewish People in Romania, has more on Bergman’s career.

Anca Aurelia Ciuciu: “On the one hand, Berman presented the upper class, including the royal family, as he was the latter’s official photographer, but also wrote about the life of the needy, covering aspects of life in the slums of Bucharest. He was a photographer whose stories could be easily understood without descriptive texts, because his photos were extremely descriptive and for a good reason. He used to spend weeks doing research before taking a snapshot and talked to people beforehand. A photo of someone you know and understand is worth a thousand words. Even the way he approached his subjects is different. Most of the time, the people in his photos are smiling, and that actually gave a headache to the communist propaganda machine, which was trying to use some snapshots he took while doing monographic campaigns around the country together with sociologist Dimitrie Gusti. They were pictures of happy people and were completely useless to the communists striving hard to prove how unhappy people were before coming to power”.

The glee, humanity and tenderness of poor neighborhoods were the highlights of photos taken by Iosif Berman as illustration to articles written by Brunea-Fox. He worked his photos as any artist would.

Anca-Aurelia Ciuciu: “He did not just carry out an analysis of the protagonist, a lot of aesthetic prep work was also involved. He was keen on shadows and shapes, he was known as ‘the cloud chaser’. He was passionate about photography and the latest trends in photographic depiction. He was a perfectionist, he spent a lot of time in the dark room to perfect details to the last. From his family we found out his work days were very long.”

His talent and perfectionism earned him collaborations with foreign publications. Berman was a New York Times correspondent, he worked with the Associated Press, and contributed photos to National Geographic. They were recently discovered and reprinted by the Romanian edition of National Geographic. In the early 1940s he sent abroad photos covering domestic politics, at that time chiefly the rise of the fascist Iron Guard.

Anca Ciuciu: “In the 1940s he tried to work for foreign press agencies and sent them photos which were not published in Romania. This was before the ban slapped on him because he was Jewish. He was not very successful, because he could not work after 1940. He was barred from owning a camera, because it was considered a propaganda tool, and this is why he fell ill. Berman died shortly after this ban.”

A victim of the racist legislation of the era, the photographer fell ill. His kidney ailment killed him in 1941, in September. Right now Iosif Berman’s photography archive is spread all over the world, and his works are hosted by a large number of museums and private collections. His archive of negatives is no longer in mint condition. Many of them shattered during the great earthquake of 1977, and some of them are owned by the Romanian Peasant Museum, namely those photos taken during campaigns undertaken alongside Dimitrie Gusti.

Beyond the myth, however, the authentic personality of the prose writer, journalist, and man of culture that was Mihai Eminescu is a lesser known side of him. It was brought recently to the center of attention by a book called ‘Testimonies on Eminescu. The Story of a Lifetime as Told by Contemporaries’. It was published by Humanitas, under the coordination of editor Catalin Cioaba. In its over 500 pages, the book presents testimonies and opinions of people who met Mihai Eminescu, men of culture important in their time, such as Titu Maiorescu, Caragiale or Ioan Slavici, but also of friends or acquaintances, whom history has forgotten. Gathered as they are in a single volume, all these texts bring to light various things about Eminescu, enough to draw a moral portrait as close to the truth and complex as possible.

Here is Catalin Cioaba, author of the volume ‘Testimonies on Eminescu’: “Right after he died, two weeks later, in fact, the Familia magazine published an appeal for everyone to write down their memories of Eminescu. It could be anyone, friend or foe, men or women, people close to him or people who had just seen him from a distance. This is what matters: how they saw him, if he was at the office or holding talks at the Junimea association. What is important is the variety of opinions. What is the importance of variety? It means not being biased. We are not trying to build a myth or destroy a myth. It means looking for good quality texts to give us a contemporary image about Eminescu’s life. There are also very important texts, describing a moment in his life, a sliver, little moments of joy. For instance, there are texts describing Eminescu singing, partying with friends. These are very important things, because in the reader’s mind they coagulate, and, keeping in mind this variety, everyone can build his own image of the poet. It is important because so far we’ve never had a living Eminescu.”

Most of the texts gathered in this volume have been published at various times in various anthologies dedicated to the poet. However, no previously published anthology contained so many texts dedicated to the poet’s early life, school life, his time as part of a traveling theater troupe, his studies in Berlin and Vienna, and his years as editor-in-chief for the Timpul newspaper. An important chapter is dedicated to his physical and mental decay, caused by the disease that killed him.

Catalin Cioaba tried to sum up what Eminescu’s image comes across as: “He was a man dedicated to others. This is what Ioan Slavici shows very well. At the same time, he was quite intransigent in the articles he wrote for Timpul, as well as in other situations as well. We always find contradictory features for any big personality. Here is what Slavici wrote: ‘His ruthlessness towards some was the manifestation of his love for all’. There is another, more delicate issue involved here, because we are talking about a life that ended in an ordeal. It is not an easy thing to manage. There are texts that maybe have exaggerated, or provided macabre images about Eminescu. He had a life that was very tough to endure at the end. As much as he was dedicated to his creation in his early life, towards the end he was consumed, and exhausted. However, as Slavici says, quoting Schopenhauer, his nature was that of a genius. Genius has to have good lungs, a good stomach, and to be physically fit in order to create. To write for a newspaper such as Timpul, write poetry at night, go back to the newspaper the next day, you have to have physical resilience for a schedule like that. Slavici says about Eminescu that he did have that kind of build, because others would have been wiped out by this schedule earlier. In the years when his illness was advancing, he did enjoy a lot of support from his friends.”

On 15 June 1889, Mihai Eminescu, only 39 years old, died in a mental hospital in Bucharest, leaving behind the legend of the perfect man of culture and patriot, while his personality as such was relegated to the background.

Due to the many peoples and civilizations that intersected on Romanian territory, Romania used many types of currencies. Currencies were the main drive of trade relations between major centres, as well as a symbol of geopolitical control. The presence of a particular currency in an area was indicative of the area’s political status and involvement in trade exchanges with other regions. The Romanian territory was successively under the control of several empires that have left their mark on its currency and types of money.

The first coins attested in present-day Romania date back to the Greek colonies of Histria, Tomis and Callatis. But the first coins circulated throughout the intra and extra-Carpathian area were Roman. Rome’s influence extended to the Balkans starting the first century B.C. The Roman denarius dominated trade in areas that had no currency of their own. Historical evidence about the circulation of the Roman denarius under the Roman Republic was discovered particularly in Dobrogea, in south-eastern Romania, a province that fell under direct Roman rule in 46 B.C. Archaeological finds in various isolated digging sites show that the Roman denarius, both under the Republic and under the Empire, had a strong influence north of the Danube.

Despite the large waves of migration between the 3rd and 11th centuries A.D., Romania saw little change in terms of currency and coins. In the 11th century the northern border of the Byzantine Empire was re-established on the Danube, and the Byzantine follis became the official currency east and south of the Carpathian Arch. Dobrogea was even home to a famous mint between 1068 and 1081. In the 12th century, the Byzantine currency accounted for most of the currency circulated in the Lower Danube region and north of the River Danube. The monetary reform of Byzantine Emperor Alexios 1 between 1092 and 1093 translated into a massive inflow of billon and hyperpyron coins north of the Danube. Subsequent to 1204, the Latin Empire of Constantinople and the Greek states established in former Byzantine territories, such as the Empire of Nicaea or the Principality of Epirus, issued their own currencies.

In the 13th century, new coinage appeared, such as that issued by the kings of Serbia, the bans of Slavonia, the Venetian Republic and the Tartar khans in Crimea. The beginning of the 13th century also saw a large number of pfennigs issued by different mints in Austria entering the sub-Carpathian area. Other types of coins from Western Europe also entered the area together with these issues, such as denarii minted in Cologne and English sterling.

Following the Ottoman occupation of south-eastern Europe in the second part of the 14th century the Turkish asper was introduced to the Romanian provinces, where it stayed in circulation for a long time. The asper was issued by the Ottoman sultan Osman I (1258-1326), who was inspired by a type of coin issued by the Byzantine emperors of the Comneni dynasty of Trebizond known as “aspron”, which means “white, rough or uneven.” The asper was 900 parts per thousand silver, weighed 1.2 grams and was 18 mm in diameter. The largest deposit of Ottoman coins were discovered on 1st September 2013, when an amateur archaeologist found 47,000 Ottoman aspers issued during sultan Murad I (1404-1451) in the village of Goleşti, centre Romania. In Transylvania, which was controlled by the Kingdom of Hungary, in the 17th century we find ducats, talers and florins, silver and gold coins.

Starting in the 19th century, the modernisation and creation of the Romanian modern state came with the introduction of a new coin that reflects the state’s sovereignty. The period between 1830 and 1860, a time of transition and far-reaching transformation, was characterised by the use of fewer types of coins in the Romanian Principalities. The coming to the throne of prince Carol of Hohenzollern-Sigmaringen, a member of a western royal house, led to the adoption of a western symbol as the national coinage, on the 22nd April 1867. The inspiration for this new coin was the Dutch Thaler, which featured a rampant lion, a coin which circulated in the Romanian Principalities in the 17th century.

Of all the iconic personalities of Romanian culture, Nicolae Iorga holds pride of place. A historian, politician, writer, literary critic, journalist and last but not least a professor, Nicolae Iorga’s name has remained instilled in the memory of Romanians for his tragic death.

He died assassinated by legionnaires in November 1940. The execution took place close to one of his usual residences in Valenii de Munte, Southern Romania. The place henceforth has remained emblematic of Romanian culture. Built around 1833 by a local nobleman, the house was first seen by Iorga in 1907. He immediately took a liking for it and bought it. He moved there only three years later, after another two wings had been added to the original house.

Mihaela Voicea, a curator with the “Nicolae Iorga” Museum Complex in Valenii de Munte told us more about the offers of the museum. “The house has four main rooms. The first served as Nicolae Iorga’s studio, the place where he spent most of his time writing. The historian wrote over 1350 books and 25,000 articles. His studio also contains a plethora of personal objects: a Cordoba-leather portfolio, his inkpot and writing feather, a photo of Ecaterina Iorga in her old age. In front of the desk there is a collection of issues of “Neamul Romanesc”, the paper Iorga ran and edited in Valenii de Munte. There is also an elephant-shaped clock Iorga had received from Romanian students in America”.

Another room is the bedroom, fitted with red sycamore maple furniture with folk motifs from Campulung Moldovenesc, which is telling of Iorga’s propensity for peasant culture.

Curator Mihaela Voicea: ”18th century icons hung above the bed, while in front of the bed there is a beautiful ebony jewel case. Then there is the lavatory, with the mirrors and the perfume crystal phials, Carara marble, as well as a very beautiful photograph of Ecaterina Iorga when she was 18, in traditional outfit. Then we reach the little drawing room, where Ecaterina Iorga used to entertain her guests. A glass show case can be found in the drawing room where travel items are on display, as well as five photos of his children. Iorga had 11 children, 4 from his first wife, Maria Tasu, whom he divorced, and 7 from his second wife, Ecaterina. It is also here that we can find Ecaterina’ s portrait, painted by Sever Burada in 1925, as well as her writing desk. We now reach the last room, the grand hall, where the historian received his guests. Lots of paintings can be found here, two by Nicolae Grigorescu, which were offered to Iorga as a gift in 1904, namely, “In the Campinita River Valley” and “Apple Flowers”. There is also Iorga’ s portrait, painted by one of his nephews, Catul Bogdan. It is also here that we can find Iorga’ s favorite painting, featuring one of his ancestors, the Steward Iordache Draghici. “

In the hallway of the house in Valenii de Minte you can also admire two lithographs, depicting Ruling Prince Alexandru Ioan Cuza and his wife, Elena, as well as a portrait of Nicola Iorga, depicting him as he was granted the title of Doctor Honoris Causa of the University of Oxford in 1931. A most accomplished rhetorician as well as a politician who was extremely set in his ways, for less than a year, over 1931-1932 Iorga was Prime Minister. His articles and avowed political stance sparked off the conflict with the Iron Guard, whose members eventually assassinated him on November 27, 1940 in the forest near Strejnic, close by the city of Ploiesti, Southern Romania.

The conquest of Constantinople by the Ottomans in 1453, a fundamental event in world history, had profound implications for the Romanian territories at the time. Many Greeks left their homes to save their lives, taking with them what they could of their wealth. Some of them found a new home in the Romanian principalities, especially in what was then a small fair town, Bucharest. They made important contributions to its development, in both trading and cultural terms. Georgeta Filitti, author of the book “Greek Bucharest”, told us about the Greeks who took refuge in the town after 1453.

“Who are these Greeks who start coming in smaller or larger groups here? They all had some kind of trade, they didn’t learn it here. We are talking of doctors, teachers, financiers, diplomats. The term ‘diplomat’ must be understood in the Medieval or Renaissance sense of the word, which involves the fact that a lot of times diplomats also dealt in espionage. There were also a lot of clerics. There is a Romanian tradition, which started in the 16th century, continuing into the 19th century, that of dedicating religious venues to the holy places, which were considered to be Mount Athos, the Holy Sepulchre, Mount Sinai, Alexandria or Antioch. This link between us and the Greek space, under Orthodoxy, led to circulation of monks.”

Meanwhile, in order to settle here solidly, the Greeks took Romanian spouses, formed mixed families, and secured property in town. In addition, they brought with them elements of urban civilization, which was poorly developed in Bucharest at that time, and brought an important contribution to education, as Georgeta Filitti told us:

“Urbanism in the modern sense started being felt more in the 18th century, also as a contribution made by the Greeks. Early that century, the Turks set up in the Romanian principalities a form of administration, which brought the Greeks officially into our space. We are talking about the Phanariot rule, a century of official rule by the Greeks. The prince was Greek, his close associates were Greek, and the Romanian population, dominated by them, had to assimilate certain Greek elements. We have to specify that it wasn’t about a forceful influence. Many of the Phanariotes were enlightened rulers, they were enlightened people, people who understood that, in order to get the most out of their subjects, they have to find common ground. One of the most important of these elements was education. They organized an education system in which they introduced the first elements of education in the Romanian language. Math, physics, astronomy and geography were among the subjects taught. These people also put together extraordinary libraries. Even to this day, whoever wants to see the moral stature of these teachers can go to Volos, in Greece, or the villages around Volos, the place where many of these teachers came from. You can also find there some of their libraries.”

One statistic dating back to 1838, a sort of census, which states that Bucharest had 60,000 families, says a lot about daily life in the capital of Wallachia, which Bucharest was at the time:

“You can see that there weren’t that many Greeks at that time. Among the traders you can find Greeks, Armenians, Jews, but also Romanians, Serbs and Bulgarians. This paints a very vivid tableau, and Bucharest traders, in spite of being of variegated origins, had solidarity, they had an unwritten code of conduct, so much so that they enjoyed a great reputation. Maybe the most important thing happened only in the second half of the 19th century. Greek communities started forming. Thus far, we had Greeks as doctors, teachers, rulers, but you could not say that you had an ethnic community. Having a community meant that everyone who felt they were Greek had their own church, school, printing shop, they had a community life, with their own celebrations, with gatherings… This was made much easier by their having lived alongside Romanians for so many centuries, as well as by having the same religions. “

To this day, the Greek influence in Bucharest can be seen in the churches they built, but also in the many Greek names that Romanians bear, even though they may not be aware of that fact.

The hippie of flower power movement was one of the most influential countercultures and non-violent movements of the 20th century, with echoes around the world. It started out in North America, but its universal values quickly spread to the most diverse societies and cultures. The hippie movement was more than a trend in music and fashion, it was a specific reading of the relationship between man and nature.

In communist countries, the hippie movement was long associated with capitalism and frowned upon as a form of degradation of mankind. In Romania, which unlike Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Poland and Yugoslavia, had no direct border with the West, the hippie culture had a lower impact. But even an extremely harsh regime as the Romanian communist regime was unable to bar the spreading of such a large-scale phenomenon. The regime manipulated hippie concepts for its own propaganda purposes, in a rather perverse manner. Drug consumption, the sexual revolution and rock music were presented as the damaging effects of capitalism on mankind, but on the other hand the pacifist political component of the hippie movement was advertised by the communist propaganda as a form of dissent of the citizens of capitalist societies against their leaders, in short, as a form of class conflict.

Just like their fellows in other communist countries, Romanian hippies had to face not only the opposition of the regime, but also the reserves of the older generations. Long hair, flared jeans, alcohol drinking, nudism, rock music and a more relaxed outlook on life were the hippie elements taken over by Romanians most extensively. Conversely, the use of drugs, the sexual liberation and, more importantly, the freedom to publicly express anti-war views and to criticize the flaws of the regime remained taboo subjects. Essentially, fashion and music remained the hippie elements that most easily penetrated mainstream culture.

Somehow, the flower patterns and traditional elements in clothing, as well as the songs drawing on folklore converged with the nationalism promoted by the communist regime’s cultural policy. Promoting traditional culture among the young was expected to lead to the cultivation of patriotism, which the regime really needed, and this is why the Romanian-style hippie movement ended up by being tolerated in communist Romania.

Music, in particular, was the field where Romanian hippies were able to dodge censorship. In the mid-60s and throughout the ‘70s, Romania saw the rise of its most valuable rock bands, such as Phoenix, Mondial, Sfinx, Olympic ’64, singer Dorin Liviu Zaharia and actor Florian Pittis. Their models were Bob Dylan, The Beatles, The Rolling Stones and the entire generation of the Woodstock 1969, which Romanians had come to know either through Radio Free Europe, or through the tapes and records smuggled into Romania. But although Romanian bands and singers found inspiration in Western songs, their lyrics contained no elements of protest or social criticism. Instead, they were limited to love songs and variations on traditional folk music.

The Romanian hippies’ Woodstock was the village of 2 Mai on the Black Sea coast. Although the parallel may seem extreme, it nevertheless finds echoes in the hearts of all those who spent their summer holidays there in the ‘60s, ‘70s, and ‘80s. Isolated and lacking the investments that would have turned it into a holiday resort, the village of 2 Mai was the meeting place of Romanian hippies, students and intellectuals, who made up a non-conformist and exclusivist, although marginal, micro-universe. The Romanian hippies were unable to build a more visible social identity and act as a source of political action, at a time when being politically active was the central element on the agenda of all hippies around the world. This is why the original anti-system message of the flower power movement remained, in Romania, limited to the world of art, and deprived of one of its most powerful components, namely its rebelliousness, the ideal of a revolution that may change the world.

Mălâncrav, located south-west of the central Romanian town of Sighisoara, stands out among the Saxon villages in the area as home to the largest community of Saxon ethnics in Transylvania. This is perhaps why houses here have preserved most of their original features. Adriana Stroe, an art historian working for the National Heritage Institute, tells us about other original aspects in the history of Mălâncrav:

“The oldest records on the village date back to 1305, when Mălâncrav was one of the 13 Saxon serf villages in Transylvania. Unlike the free Saxon villages founded on royal estates, the Saxon serf villages were established on noblemen estates. Saxon peasants had been originally drawn there by the promise of many privileges, but over the years their rights were drastically reduced. In 1340, Mălâncrav and four other villages in the area were property of the Apafi family.

A 1424 papal document mentions the existence of a nobleman’s chapel dedicated to the Precious Blood of Christ, which indicates that a noble family residence was also to be found in the region. In 1635, the old chapel was replaced by a tomb-chapel where Mihail Apafi, his wife and three children were buried. Their tombstones were made by the well-known sculptor Elias Nikolai. At present, these tombstones are hosted by the Budapest Art Museum.”

Two symbols of Mălâncrav make the village a landmark for Romanian and European heritage: the mural paintings in the Evangelical church, and the Apafi mansion. Here is Adriana Stroe again:

“The Evangelical church was built in the early 14th Century in Gothic style, but the door and window frames on the western side were replaced in the late 15th Century with late Gothic elements, which have been preserved to this day. The church is surrounded by an oval brick and stone wall, erected at the same time with the church, and having some fortification elements added in the late 15th — early 16th Century. In the mid-14th Century, the church walls were decorated with linear narrative paintings, which have been preserved in part, on the northern wall of the nave. The paintings depict scenes from the Genesis, Christ’s childhood, the Passions, the appearance of Christ after Resurrection, and scenes from the life of Virgin Mary. This set of mural paintings is viewed as the largest and the most characteristic Transylvanian mural painting collection in Gothic linear narrative style. Between 1375 and 1405, the choir area was extended and decorated with international Gothic-style paintings, defined by the elegance of silhouettes and the refinement of the composition. The Mălâncrav choir mural painting is the first and most notable collection of this kind in Transylvania.”

The altar paintings, the font and tabernacle on the northern wall of the choir area, also belong to the Gothic style.

Restored recently, after having been neglected by authorities for several decades, the Apafi mansion is another tourist attraction in the area, and illustrates the history of the village. Adriana Stroe from the National Heritage Institute, has more details:

“The aristocratic residence in Mălâncrav is centred around the council hall built in the 15th Century by the Apafi family, the descendants of a Saxon count family. Archaeological works proved that the residence was built and extended in several stages. The 15th Century nucleus was enlarged in the late 16th and early 17th centuries. The current shape of the mansion is owing to the changes made in the 18th and 19th centuries, when the mansion was taken over by the Bethlen family, one of the most important noble families in medieval Transylvania. In 1920 the mansion was sold by its last owner to the Evangelical community of Mălâncrav, and it was seized by the communist authorities after 1947. For a while, it was used as an office building for a farm. In 2000, the mansion was bought by the Mihai Eminescu Trust and restored.”

Monica Lovinescu was born on November 9, 1923 and passed away on April 20, 2008 In Paris. Jointly with her husband Virgil Ierunca, Monica Lovinescu was one of the icons of the Romanian anti-communist exile, sine she mainly came to be known for the lucidity and acumen she showed in her efforts to debunk the fat lies of the communist propaganda.

Yet Monica Lovinescu will also be remembered because of her very special life. She was the daughter of literary critic Eugen Lovinescu, who in the early through the mid-1930s was a staunch supporter of modernism in Romanian literature. Her mother was the French teacher Ecaterina Balacioiu Lovinescu. Monica proved she had literary talent at a very early age, as when she was a child she got several of her texts published.

Yet the early days of her literary attempts would subsequently be denied, since right after the war Monica Lovinescu began to write play reviews. In September 1947, a little bit before King Mihai’s abdication and the indefeasible instatement of the communist regime in Romania, Monica Lovinescu left for Paris on a scholarship offered by France, and never returned.

As an exile, she continued her columnist activity, and since 1962 she started to collaborate with Radio Free Europe, where she had two bi-weekly radio shows: “Romanian Culture Today” and “Theses and Antitheses in Paris”.

Right after she settled in Paris and as soon as she began targeting criticism at the communist regime in Bucharest, the Romanian authorities began to persecute her mother. 71-year old Ecateriana Balacioiu-Lovinescu was sentenced to prison and deprived of her supplies of prescribed medication, as a blackmail attempt for her daughter to return to the country. Monica Lovinescu’s mother died in prison in 1960, and the communist regime in Bucharest never ceased to stalk her in France.

In 1977 in a coup the Romanian Securitate staged against her, Monica Lovinescu was severely beaten and was admitted to hospital. Despite all that, she was unwavering in her anti-communist stance. Actually there was not a single period of time in her life when Monica Lovinescu might have taken sides with the communist doctrine, and that quite unlike other intellectuals who, having bowed to the communist doctrine, later on regretted all the commitments they had made.

Speaking now is literary critic and novelist Angelo Mitchevici, who will be giving us an outline of Monica Lovinescu’s biography: ”Here’s what’s most remarkable about Monica Lovinescu: the lucidity very few intellectuals had. I have no explanation for that kind of lucidity other than her moral fiber. Monica Lovinescu did have a reasonably strong moral fiber. Using her own words when she used to speak about Arthur Koestler, we could say that before being the author of a work which was valuable in itself, Monica Lovinescu authored a kind of life that had never been dented by any fall, by any blemish, by any take-back for she might have previously said.. That kind if life was nearly perfect, limited as the accomplishment of perfection may be in this world. That was something she used to say about Arthur Koestler, but which equally applied to her as well: the fact that she turned her life into a risk she would continually take. I believe Monica Lovinescu can be an example of life turned into a risk she’d never ceased to take. We all know the Securitate was extremely keen on dealing with those who were part of [Radio] Free Europe’s small circle. There were assassination attempts, and some of them were even successful. Monica Lovinescu got beaten, but she miraculously escaped what could have been a murder. So all in all, I can say that in a nutshell her existence can be captured in the words moral fiber. And moral fiber, Monica Lovinescu had galore from the very beginning.”

In a rare recording of Radio Romania’s Golden Tape Archives, here is what Monica Lovinescu said, capturing the moment when she took full responsibility for her destiny of a committed intellectual, as well as the reason why she made that choice.

Monica Lovinescu: ”There were other temptations for me as well: stage directing, literature. It was not a decision to be taken under the spur of the moment, but the main reason for that was the feeling I got that from here, you could speak up. And speaking, I had to redeem the silence of those back home, who back there were stifled into silence. I somehow had the feeling I had to pay for that freedom which, it seemed to me, was being offered conditionally, in return for something else. I believe I sacrificed the writer, but with no great remonstrance, at that. I kind of sensed I had to do it, given the fact that many intellectuals died in prison and that my own mother died in prison, and the choice writers had to make was again between prison and prostitution. Under the circumstances, it was more useful for me to do what I was doing, rather than writing yet another novel.”

Before she died, Monica Lovinescu donated her home in Paris to the Romanian state, while her personal archive, as well as Virgil Ierunca’s archive were donated to the Humanitas Aqua Forte Foundation, which is the foundation body her father Eugen Lovinescu’s apartment.