THE TRACKS:
1. In the valley, my love,
in the valley
Hora batrineasca (traditional folk ballad) from Muntenia and reminiscent
of the orient. A Lautari song with chromatic modulation.
Lautar is Rumanian for a folk musician who plays the lute, violin or fiddle.
The Lautari are usually gypsies - full-time musicians who play at village
festivals in a little folk orchestra called a Taraf. A Taraf generally consists
of an accordion, cymbals, bass, violin and drums. The Lautari are the successors
of the Troubadours, who used to play in the courts of minor aristocrats,
the Bojars. Settling down in the countryside towards the middle of the 19th
century, they effectively became guardians of the Rumanian folk tradition.
An idiom from the Oas region asserts that good musicians keep the village
united: "Ceterasul stringe satul sau il risipeste".
In the valley, my love, in the valley is a love song. Singing to
his lover, the singer points out the sexually suggestive nature of the ripening
produce of the valley. He continues by suggesting that they choose and sharpen
the staves to which cultivated plant are tied to support them. "Let's
entwine our bodies too", he concludes.
Maria Tanase learned this song from a woman from Izvoare, in Prahova, and
it was published by Constantin Brailoiu, the celebrated founder of the Bucharest
Folklore Institute, in 1939.
2. Mary, sweet Mary
A lively and very well known gypsy song from the Arges region. A "new"
urban song, sung in the way that Ionita Badita, Ion Matache, Luca Codin
and other famous Lautari used to play and sing it. Between the two World
Wars it was sung in many of Bucharest's bars (Cintec de circiuma) and played
on the radio.
The singer explains that it is better to be hit with a stick than to be
lovesick. He asks his lover to come and beat him, requesting only that the
stick should not be too large …
3. I am frightened of death
(Green leaf, dried up thistle)
Doina from Muntenia, traditionally sung by Lautari.
The Doina is a well-established form of poetic expression and may be translated
as lament. It comes into its own expressing feelings of longing, loss, love
and rebellion. It is basically melancholic in its mood, and its wide melodic
range offers great freedom of musical expression for the singer.
This particular Doina is one of the first songs that Maria Tanase learnt.
Constantin Brailoiu recorded this song in 1932 for the folklore archive.
The song tells the story of Ilie Nastase from Viisoara in the Teleorman
region. It expresses the fear of the end of life, which also means the end
of love. The singer fears his lover could forget him after he is dead. He
longs that they may see each other's faces, before he dies.
The first verse begins with the words "green leaf" (foaie verde)
which in Rumanian folklore represents man's ideal relationship with nature,
and is typically used as a refrain. In varied combination with other images,
a kind of plant or tree, or properties such as dry, spiky or in bloom, metaphors
are created for life's dramatically contrasting aspects. In this song, the
dryness and spikiness of a thistle leaf stand for sadness and pain. An intimate
relationship is thus established with nature, which is placed in the role
of a benign confidante: a healing presence who you can talk to, confer with,
and gain reassurance from.
4. Ciuleandra
Mountain dance from Muntenia. It has its own particular steps and ends in
a frantic rhythmical climax. As the music progresses, more and more instruments
join in, until by the end, the whole orchestra is playing. As in the traditional
ring dance, the Hora, the whole community is included in one big ring while
dancing the Ciuleandra. Everyone holds on to the shoulders of the next person,
and the ring turns ever faster. The cries (Strigaturi) that we hear were
added by Maria Tanase, and are made by the leader of the dancers, who typically
holds a piece of clothe above his head and incites the other dancers. These
cries are usually made during particular verses, and are often satirical
or sentimental in character, and are directed at the subject of the song.
In this song, in which you can hear Maria Tanase's style of free improvisation,
a young woman (Puica), is the subject. This young woman is struggling to
get the step of the dance, but she has not quite mastered it yet. The other
dancers encourage her with their cries.
5. Train, little train
A gypsy song from the Arges region. This song dates back to the time between
the first and second World Wars when it enjoyed immense popularity. The
accompaniment provides a strong rhythmical backing of the kind that is typical
for the Sirba or belt dance. In the Sirba, a folk dance with a lively rhythm
known throughout Rumania, each dancer holds the next dancer in the circle
by the waist.
Two contrasting styles are recognizable in this song. On the one hand the
traditional folksong character is retained. On the other hand the urban
style of the chanson is introduced and mixed in with it, creating an essentially
new form.
In Bucharest in the 30s, revues, chansons, and the can-cans were very much
in vogue. Maria Tanase, who made her first appearances in revue theatre,
sang many of her urban and town songs there and it was from this kind of
music that light music (Musica usoara) developed. To this day the same songs
are performed at private parties (Cintece de petrecere) in Rumania. Despite
modernization and urbanization in Rumania inevitably weakening people's
interest in folk music, Maria Tanase's passion for the Rumanian folk tradition
increased its popularity. In this she counteracted the misuse that Rumanian
dictators subjected folk traditions to.
In Train, little train a woman laments the leaving of her loved one.
She curses the train, that modern form of transport responsible for taking
her husband away to Craiova, Pitesti, Ploiesti and Bucharest. Cities the
men folk had to go to, to sell their country produce. They were often away
for months, bringing back supplies needed back home. During this time, women
had to do much work on the land, which the men folk would otherwise have
done, in addition to their customary work with children, home and garden.
Once again the symbolism of the green leaf is evoked, and nature once more
becomes the confidante of the womenfolk's innermost thoughts and emotions.
6. Tomorrow the recruits
are leaving
Oriental sounding romance from the suburbs. Lautari from Arges sang this
song a cappella.
A young lad sings that his family cannot see him off as he leaves for the
army. He lives alone with his father who is too old to leave the house.
To make up for this his father asks God to turn him into the ray of light
from a star. He wants to beam his way to the barracks where is son his on
duty, and ask the commanding officer to go easy on his "little one".
7. This was a winter and
a half
Lautari song from Muntenia, well known during the period between the two
World Wars. It is intended to be didactic (Dojana): young women and girls
should keep their feeling under control until their marriage so as not to
endanger the traditional structures of village life. If they make themselves
too available they will lose their appeal.
8. Doina from Maramuresh
This Doina combines different elements that may be identified as originating
from different regions. The evocative word dui is repeated in imitation
of the sound of the shepherd's pipe.
Maramuresh is the northwest region of Transylvania - a place where folk
traditions and life styles have remained unspoiled.
In this Doina the singer addresses her lover who is stationed far away with
the military. The distance between them evokes her longing for him. Responding
to her own feelings of longing, she explains her determination to overcome
their separation and how she will finally reach him.
9. Hey lover!
Shepherd's song from the mountain region around Sibiu, accompanied by strigaturi,
that are in counter point to one another. This song without the strigaturi
is authentic; the cried out parts were Tanase's innovation, but are typical
for the region. A further example of Maria Tanase's way of being innovative
with folk songs, while remaining true to tradition.
In this song a woman is singing imploringly to her lover that they might
kiss and be together. She even speculates that the lover might be with another
and how she would pretend she hadn't seen anything, just as long as they
could be together again.
Another arrangement of this song in French may be heard on the Tanase CD
"Malédiction d'Amour" (Oriente RIENCD22).
10. My little wine bottle
Drinking song (Cantec de pahar) from Moldavia.
In this song special pleading turns dramatically into a sober admission
that drink can end in death. This drinking song is thus an emphatic warning
of the possible effects of drink, especially where special pleading has
become a habit. "When my mother had me, she hung a little wine bottle
around my neck so that nothing would come between me and a little drink.
In the fog at night I mistake the lampposts for drinking companions. This
is not my fault, because I hear them offering me a drink! In the end my
weakness for the little bottle will lead me to my grave".
11. Hey, Gheorghita, where
are you going?
Lautari song from a mahala of the old part of Bucharest. The word mahala
actually means a suburb on the periphery of the city, but is slang for a
simple, rather crude form of manners and speech.
The interestingly varied rhythms result from there being sometimes 2 and
sometimes 3 beats to the bar.
"Green leave of the nut tree" says this song, and the son, asked
by his mother why he can't eat or sleep properly, replies that he's longing
to join his lover and be open about it. Will she not look at how beautiful
his secret lover is? Will she not bless their love?
The symbolism of the nut tree concerns the value placed on family and home.
12. Alpenhorn
Song from Maramuresh in the traditional bucolic style. The Alpenhorn is
blown by shepherds when they are driving the sheep up into the mountains,
or when they bring them back down the mountain, or when they are driving
away spirits. It is an instrument typically found in the mountainous parts
of Maramuresh, the Oas region and the Bukovina. The Alpenhorn is also an
important means of communication from mountain to mountain. In emergencies
it has been known to be a lifesaver.
This song tells the story of a shepherdess, who has been attacked, and her
sheep and dogs stolen. It reminds us of the popular Rumanian myth called
the Miorita.
13. Sour Grapes
An old oriental gypsy song from the suburbs of Bucharest. Agurida means
sour grapes and in this song it symbolizes a heart broken by love, sadness
and finally bitterness. As described above (Train, little train, track 5),
the men folk have left, perhaps for months at a time, to market their produce
at markets in the towns and cities. The women folk, alone at home, lament
their loneliness, cursing the rising waters of the Danube that in spring
and autumn further delay their men folk from returning. The song also bemoans
how sometimes the mother-in-law's influence may be stronger than their husbands'
love for them!
14. Last night I dreamt
of you
Well-known Banat love song, which Maria Tanase learned from Margareta Briescu.
"Last night was not a night, it was a kind of death…" This
song is about a dream, in which the lovers are together. On waking, all
the singer sees is the bare pillow. "I might just as well be dead for
longing," she laments.
15. I asked my lover
Folk song from the south of Transylvania with a trochee rhythm that can
be danced in a great Hora.
As in This was a winter and a half (track 7), this is a moralizing text
warning young women not to make themselves too available and thus lose their
appeal. Even within an existing relationship restrained is a virtue.
16. Yesterday I bought you
a headscarf
Urban Lautari folklore. At the beginning of every "melodic stanza"
this song is slow, but then gradually becomes more rhythmic.
This song is a disappointed lover's commentary on the coquette, whom he
is courting with gifts. She does not adorn herself with the headscarf, the
pearl necklace, and the earrings that he gives her, since wearing them might
indicate to another suitor that she is spoken for.
17. Oh lover, our love
Banat love song that Maria Tanase probably discovered in the course of one
of her many visits to Banat or from the folk archives. In 1935 Constantin
Brailoiu released a version of this song sung by Catalina Zgavirdea from
Jupa, in the region of Caras-Severin.
The singer addresses her lover who has left her, reminding him of how happy
they were. She does not blame him for taking a new lover, saying only that
she is awaiting his return in keeping with his promise to love only her.
She says she is only sad, not furious …
Another version of this song is called "Frumos bade, trandafir"
- "Beautiful lad, beautiful as a rose".
18. Little stream, violin
creek
Dance from the south of Transylvania. Tanase's version makes use of free
rhythms.
The singer exclaims how the lecherous men of the village were first after
her mother and now after her! They have destroyed her reputation and her
lover has left her as a result.
19. Toderel
An old folk song from Maramuresh that Maria Tanase's saved from oblivion
to be part of her repertoire.
An old man bemoans the fate of becoming old, and thinks of all the joys
of youth that he used to be able to count on. He used to be sound in limb,
now he is frail and inactive. He used to chase the girls with great success,
and now he's stuck with an old woman he's not too crazy about.
Toderel is a term of endearment for the old man's name Toader.
20. Pain of love, burning
fire
Sirba from Oltenia. Maria Tanase learnt this song from Maria Lataretu, the
most famous singer from the region of Gorj. Lataretu performed in many of
Bucharest's famous restaurants and recorded several records for Columbia.
She called this song, first recorded in 1937, "The Sirba of the suburbs".
The singer claims that the person who invented the sigh, and the person
who discovered tobacco, should both be forgiven all their sins. These two
things are both helping to prevent him going mad on account of his unrequited
love of woman whom he says he now despises.
The oriental echoes of this song remind one of the old Manele, based on
Turkish melodies. During the first decades of the 20th century they were
very popular. Today they have been revived but in a very sad way with the
dullest of words and uninspired music: a fate all to common to the folk
tradition when its true character is no longer understood.
21. Oh my!
Moldavian children's song, sung by Maria Tanase in the Moldavian dialect.
The musicologist Harry Brauner, a friend of and mentor to Tanase, referred
to this song as a folklore version of musical farce.
A mother promises her daughter a double-edged dowry: 20 pillows full of
hornets, 20 full of ants, 20 soft ones full of dung, 20 wine barrels without
bottoms or staves, and two old crooked-legged ducks as milking cows!
The Nightingale of the Mulberry Garden
Maria Tanase, the daughter of a horticulturalist, was born in the suburbs
of Bucharest in 1913. The traditions of the countryside were still strong
in these suburbs, the local inhabitants being mainly farmers, seasonal workers
(such as those working for Tanase's father's nursery), country tradesmen,
and travelling salesmen. Even today in Rumania, vegetable and fruit markets
play a central role in city life, leaving many urban areas with a pronounced
rural character. Maria's father employed a workforce of young women who
knew all about running a garden for its produce, whether vegetables, fruits
or flowers. In keeping with Rumanian tradition, it is women rather than
men who are trained for this kind of employment. Coming as they did from
all over Rumania, these women brought the diverse folk traditions of their
hometowns and villages with them. The little Maria was eager to learn each
new song that she heard and her first repertoire was an impressive collection
of these very songs. Many of them give expression to the loneliness that
the womenfolk feel when their husbands leave home, often for months on end,
to sell their produce in the cities. Songs like "Trenule, masina mica"
or "Agurida" are a poignant mixture of bitterness and humour in
the face of such loneliness.
Tanase's career as a singer began on the stages of the Rumanian capital:
in opera houses, in the Baraseum Theatre, and in music hall acts and revues,
in which she also took on acting roles. She can still be seen in a film
role in "Ciulinii Baraganului" (The Thistles of Baraga, from a
novel by Panait Istrati). She also tried her hand at screenplays, but her
sensibilities were essentially inspired by her ever-growing knowledge of
Rumanian folklore. Scholarship in this field preoccupied her throughout
her life and in later years she taught folklore in the Oltenia. It is thanks
to Maria Tanase that folklore as an independent discipline is offered in
Rumanian educational institutions to this day.
Tanase's deep, rich voice swiftly brought her fame, and has become immortalized
in the distinguished contribution she made to the Rumanian folk tradition.
Her powerful performing style, with its unique vocal timbre and sense of
melodrama, enabled her to reflect the urban cosmopolitan culture of a Bucharest
that was known in the 30s and 40s as the "Paris of the East".
Tanase thus gave the Rumanian folk tradition an extended and more contemporary
lease of life. In addition to her talents as a singer and her strong sense
of dramatic presentation, she could improvise and render original interpretations.
No singer has ever matched her in these respects. Her originality was partly
inspired by her interest in modern musical forms like jazz.
On numerous tours outside of Rumania, such as in Turkey, Tanase was very
successful. The concert she gave in Istanbul was broadcast nationwide. At
a ceremony in her honour the then Turkish president awarded her an honorary
Turkish citizen, and invited her to work as a folklore researcher at the
Ethnographical Institute in Istanbul.
Her success overseas was no less impressive. She introduced Rumanian folk
music to audiences in the USA and made an acclaimed performance in the Rumanian
pavilion at the New York World Exhibition of 1939.
The first recording for French audiences consisted of eight songs and was
entitled "An Evening in Bucharest". It was released on the "Le
chant du monde" label, Paris, and posthumously gained Tanase the prestigious
French Academy award "Grand Prix du Disque" 1965.
Many of my own childhood memories take me back to Maria Tanase's world.
I grew up in the same part of the city as she, on a hill called "Dealul
Martisorului". Everyday when I walked to school I passed Ion Coanda
Tanase's nursery. Ten years later I myself went to the same school as Maria
Tanase, which has since been named after her. One memory of her in person
remains particularly vivid. This was seeing her on stage on a number of
occasions at the culture centre "Caramidarii de jos". These were
at Rumania's annual national holiday on 24th of January, which celebrates
the unification of Rumania's three formerly separate principalities with
a traditional circle dance.
In my book about the life of Tanase called "The Nightingale of the
Mulberry Garden" I try to introduce the reader to the streets of a
Bucharest that has sadly vanished forever. A city made up of amazingly green
suburbs, a city of orchards and country folk who had confidently brought
their traditions with them.
Maria Rosca
translated by Ingrid Baltagescu
and Martin Courtney
RIENCD35
