I often think of my dear friends scattered to the four corners of the earth. When one is uprooted, the feeling of belonging to a place, to a “sight”, is so easily “parasitized” by melancholy and sterilization of ideas.
My dear Romanians scattered all over the world: there, abroad, you have the chance to discover the lifeblood of our nation without getting contaminated by the miseries that build up the lives of those who live here.
Together we will open up pages of cultural history that want as ultimate purpose to make us proud of being Romanians. This language might seem a wooden language for we have got used to set up our self-esteem not through creative aptitudes, but almost exclusively through the destructive, ironic-quizzically ones. I am not referring to that pride that does come out of flabbergast and historical arrogance but the one that comes out of creative sources with which the good Lord blessed those who live in the place we now call Romania. Only a sense of responsible living can replace the deficiencies of a history that didn’t caress us much.
As an introduction, I give you an alternative to balcanic “manele”, which suffocate Romanian phonic sphere. The synthesis and processing skills of Jascha Heifetz superimposed to the academic vitality and Wallachian melancholy of Dinicu Grigoras, fiddler with highly musical studies, gave birth to this musical masterpiece with universal resonance.
Enjoy the Romanian Hora Staccato!