Romanian Journal of Museums – Volume 1 / 2017 – Centennial of the Great Union

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ROMANIAN JOURNAL OF MUSEUMS NO. 1 / 2017

NATIONAL INSTITUTe for cultural research and training 1


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NATIONAL INSTITUTe for cultural research and training

Editorial team - Virgil Ștefan Nițulescu, PhD – Editor-in-Chief - Raluca Iulia Capotă – peer-reviewer - Mircea Victor Angelescu – peer-reviewer Editor: Bogdan Pălici Text processing: Aurora Pădureanu Correction: Radu Vasile Translation: Mina Fanea Iovanovici Corresponding address: No. 22, Unirii Blvd., 2nd Floor, Sector 3, Postal Code 030833, Bucharest Tel: 021 891 91 03 | Fax: 021 893 31 75 | http://www.culturadata.ro/categorie-publicatii/revista-muzeelor/ www.facebook.com/RevistaMuzeelor © National Institute for Cultural Research and Training ISSN 1220-1723 ISSN-L 1220-1723 Cover: The Resolution of the National Assembly from Alba Iulia, November 18th-December 1st, 1918 Source: The Archives of the National Museum of Romanian History)

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O. 1/2017 No. N

MUNICIPALITY R O M A NTHE I ABUCHAREST N JOUR N A L O F MUSEUM MUSEUMS

D I G IT I Z AT I O N

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table of Contents

5 Virgil Ștefan Nițulescu – Editorial Centennial of the Great Union 8 Alina Petrescu – Who will write our history? Romanian artists in the Great War 15 Florian Dumitrache – Ethnic Multiculturalism in Țara Bârsei (Land of Barsa). The Csángós of Lutheran Confession 29 Ana Pascu – The Communities of Jiu River Valley: Strategies, Narratives and Identity Museums 49 Cristina Claudia Popescu – National architectural identities at the museum of the “Ion Mincu” school of architecture and urban planning in bucharest 54 Marcel Otoiu, Mircea Dorobanțu – “Centennial trains” cultural project 64 Sorin-Mihai Constantinescu – A path of responsibility for heritage 71 Raluca Bem Neamu, Alexandra Zbuchea – I Wonder Why I (don’t) Love My Country an Acknowledged Project European Year of Cultural Heritage 84 Ioan Denuț, Alexandra Sîngeorzan – Natural heritage versus cultural heritage 91 Dana Nicolae – The phenomenon of guided walking tours for locals in Bucharest - revealing the need to disseminate local narratives Professional ethical codes and museum ethics 95 Alis Vasile – The statute of specialists in museums – between formation and regulation 99 Sorin-Mihai Constantinescu – Particularities of open museum ethics 106 Ana-Maria-Violeta Voloc – ICOM Code of Ethics and its applicability to museums 111 Valer Rus – Some ethical issues of Romanian museum management 116 Ioana Lidia Ilea – The Deaccessioning of Museum Cultural Assets. An Ethical Challenge for the Museum World

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eDITORIAL Virgil Č˜tefan NiČ›ulescu, PhD Editor-in-Chief

ABSTRACT Though the ICOM Code of Ethics is very much invoked in Romania, it is, in fact, less known, proving the fact that there is still a lot to do, in the Romanian museums, in order to implement the principles of ICOM and to convince the Romanian authorities to comprehend the role of museums and of heritage in the contemporary Romanian society. One good occasion would be the time of 2018, when the European Union celebrates the European Year of Cultural Heritage and Romania celebrates one century from the Great Union (when all the Romanian provinces united, in 1918, in one national state).

Key-words: Romanian museums, ICOM Code of Ethics.

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The International Council of Museums (ICOM) has been established as the main international nongovernmental organization ever since its creation in 1946, as a successor of the International Museums Office (1926-1945). Initially, the link between setting standards for museums on a universal basis and drawing up a deontological code of museum specialists did not seem very direct. However, following the adoption of the Convention on measures to be taken to ban and prevent illicit import, export and transfer of property, adopted by UNESCO on November 14, 1970 (which Romania joined only in 1990), ICOM considered it necessary to adopt a number of resolutions in support of those who were to implement the provisions of the Convention and who worked in museums. Undoubtedly, the museums had no way of remaining indifferent to cultural goods trafficking, they could not lend credit, through their respectability, to those dealing with this trafficking, because museums are not simple players in the culture market, but some responsible organizations for educating citizens. In fact, in the same year, ICOM specified, in a document that became programmatic for the whole activity of the organization, that “market laws cannot become the laws governing museums.” This was the nucleus from which, in the years to come, a stream of thought was born in ICOM for the adoption of an ethical code of the profession, which only happened in November 1986 at the Buenos Aires General Conference. The immediate effect of adopting the first Code of Ethics for Museums was the establishment of a Committee on Deontology (the current ETHCOM). This Committee constituted the laboratory where the Council perfected the principles and definitions of the Code, up to its current form, adopted at the Seoul General Conference in October 2004.

trafficking in cultural goods, clandestine archaeological excavations, cultural goods destruction, emergency actions in case of natural disaster, and continuing with the requests for return of objects to their original communities, the requests for return of stolen or seized goods to their rightful owners, mediation of disputes on museum goods and the immoral behaviour of some professionals in the field. In the last few years, others have been added to these problems, including the deaccession (the term is not yet acquired into Romanian, and we use this barbarism, from English) of cultural assets (in other words, the museum’s renunciation to some collected assets), the closure of some museums and the financial pressures exerted on them.

Issues debated by ETHCOM cover a fairly wide range of museum-specific activities, ranging from illicit

1 Gary Edson, Unchanging Ethics in a Changing World, in Museums, Ethics and Cultural Heritage, Edited by Bernice L. Murphy, London and New York: Routledge, 2016, p. 134.

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In a recently published volume, the well-known American museologist Gary Edson even considered that among all the standards promoted by ICOM over the seven decades of existence, the Code of Ethics is the most well-known and influential in the museum world1. Unfortunately, Romania still lacks a version approved by the Romanian National Committee ICOM of the Code of Ethics. However, the document is quite well known (albeit too superficial and often only declarative, in my opinion) in Romanian museums. Like any code, it also includes a set of rules to be observed, mutually and willingly, by all members of the museum community. The idea of ​​respecting a moral code is specific to liberal professions. In case of violation of the provisions of such a code, the culprit should be punished in some way, up to the loss of the right to practice the profession. While in the case of physicians or psychologists, for example, there are colleagues in Romania who can sanction the deeds of a member of the profession who violated


the code of ethics, there is no such correspondent for museum staff. Thus, the only arbiter is the one outside the profession: the law. The great variety of specific functions in museums (from curators and scholars to curators and drawers), as well as the known lack of own organization, make it hard to imagine the establishment of a college of museums, let’s say, in Romania. In the absence of such a body, the request of compliance with the Code of Ethics remains only a desideratum. Certainly, some of these provisions can become rules by including them in normative acts, but in this case the noble feeling of belonging to a particular profession and to a certain body of professionals is lost. As two American authors have said, “a professional is more than a person with skills and knowledge. To become a professional, you need to devote your skills and knowledge to promoting human dignity.2” In other words, a museum professional cannot be a simple employee who performs mechanical tasks. Working in a museum implies the existence of an inner purpose to work for the benefit of the community, beyond statements and annual assessments made by hierarchical superiors. Several recent cases recorded in Romanian museums, which brought to public knowledge the existence of fierce and painful conflicts in some of the museums of the country, let us see a general picture, somewhat bleaker than we suspected. In these conflicts, those involved have made use of and abuse of appeals to respect professional ethics. Nothing entitles us to fairly and neutrally judge these conflicts in the absence of unanimously agreed provisions. On the other hand, from the simple reading of the mutual accusations we can understand how far the concerns of colleagues in Romania are regarding the observance of the ethical codes in relation to the topics debated

at the universal level. In addition, we should note that specialized codes have already begun to appear, the first of which is for natural history museums, ratified in August 2013 by the Committee for Museums and Natural History Collections (NATHIST). At the same time, the International Council for Museums and Collections of Modern Art (CIMAM), an ICOM affiliated organization, decided in November 2009 on the principles to be followed in the event of deaccession (with express application only to this type of museum, obviously). Confronted with enough internal conflicts, with the daily struggle to obtain the necessary resources for the operation, with the claims of the credit officers, with the obvious “detachment” displayed by the resort Ministry regarding the fundamental problems of the museums (of all museums) in Romania, the community of specialists hopes that in 2018, when the European Union celebrates the European Year of Cultural Heritage, and Romania celebrates the 100th anniversary of the Great Union, there will be a greater interest on behalf of the society as a whole, for heritage and, therefore, for museums. If so, this will also depend on the attitude of those working in museums and who should be aware of the facts we said above about professionals.

Virgil Ștefan Nițulescu, PhD Editor-in-Chief vsnitulescu@yahoo.co.uk

2 Gregory R. Beabout, Daryl J. Wennemann, Applied Professional Ethics. A Developmental Approach for Use with Case Studies, Lanham: University Press, 1994, p. 27.

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centennial of the Great Union

Figure 1. Exhibition of Artists Mobilized by the General Headquarters of the Army of Iasi (January 24, 1918)

Who will write our history? Romanian artists in the Great War “Inter arma silent musae” ABSTRACT The National Museum of Art of Romania, Romanian Institute of Culture and, also, Museo Centrale del Risorgimento will organize, for the first time in Bucharest and also in Rome, an international exhibition, entitled Front-line Studio. Romanian Artists in the Great War that celebrates 100 years from the First World War. The exhibition will show, in the spaces dedicated to temporary activities of National Museum of Art of Romania and from Museo Centrale del Risorgimento (Complesso Vittoriano) in Rome, a new and valuable selection of 127 Romanian works of art, 25 artists and 53 documents made on the battle field, near the line between war and peace or in prison camps from National Museum of Art of Romania, National Museum of History, National Military Museum from Bucharest, Art Museum from Iasi and Art Museum from Ploiesti. Some of the most important Romanian artists who participated and suffered like soldiers were: Nicolae Tonitza, Ion Theodorescu-Sion, Stoica Dumitrescu, Aurel Baesu, Ionescu-Sin, Gheorghe Popovici, Francisc Șirato, Iosif Iser, Camil Ressu, Ștefan Dimitrescu, Dumitru Mățăoanu, Mihai Onofrei, Oscar Han, Dimitrie Paciurea, Ion Jalea, Cornel Medrea etc. Key-words: Great War, Romanian artists, battle field, prison camp, Front-line Studio 8


Front Workshop. Romanian artists in the Great War exhibition, opened on August 23, at the National Art Museum of Romania, reunites over 127 paintings, sculptures, graphic works and documents of Romanian artists. Some of the valuable works exhibited in Bucharest were exhibited for a short period (November 30 – December 3, 2017) at the Museo Centrale del Risorgimento in Rome. The partners of the National Art Museum of Romania, involved in the organization of this project, were the Romanian Cultural Institute, Accademia di Romania, I.C.C.R. Venice, as well as the Museo Centrale del Risorgimento. Announcing the anniversary of the commemoration of the Centennial of the Great Union, the exhibition aimed to present the contribution of the mobilized artists to the realization of the great national ideal of the Romanians by presenting their masterpieces, made during or after the war. Starting from the traumatic experiences experienced by the artists on the front, the works were selected from the patrimony of the National Museum of Art of Romanian and later from the collections of our partners, the Military National Museum “King Ferdinand I”, “Moldova” National Museum Complex in Iasi, The National History Museum of Romania and the Prahova County Museum “Ion Ionescu Quintus”, corroborating this activity, quite difficult, with the search for some new documents. With some luck, we discovered at the “George Oprescu” Institute of Art History the Catalogue of the Exhibition of the Mobilized Artists, organized on January 24, 1918 in Iasi, as well as the image with the mobilized artists (figure 1). As the documentation advanced, we discovered the Circular Order through which the artists were summoned, we learned of the initiative of the General Army General Headquarters in Iasi to create

a future Military Museum and we wanted to give the public a fuller picture about the artistic evolution during the First World War. Another important aspect that we had to take into account was the demarcation of the two poles of artistic activity in the Romanian space: Bucharest, under German occupation, continuing its pre-war exhibition activity, and Iasi, the former capital of Moldova, which had to face a veritable siege from the 300,000 refugees and, despite the difficult conditions, became the capital of the Romanian resistance. In this historical context, the title of “Who Will Write Our History?”, published in the Opinia newspaper (1917), becomes the motto of all Romanians who fight for national unity. A decisive role in the epoch was also played by the School of Fine Arts in Iasi. This, besides hosting most of the exhibitions organized in Iasi, hosted the Great General Headquarters of the Army, sent artists to the front to portray the decisive moments of the Great War and continued to carry out its regular youth training activity. The precarious conditions in the capital of Moldova, its transformation into the Romanian capital of war and, last but not least, the constant siege of the refugees led artists to open, especially in the first part of 1917, a limited number of exhibitions. The Iasi salons, organized in the four rooms of the School of Fine Arts, offered artists the opportunity to divide into two camps: the circle of academics around the professors Emanoil Bardasare Panaiteanu and Gheorghe Popovici and the young generation of artists represented by Nicolae Tonitza, Ştefan Dimitrescu, Octav Băncilă, Camil Ressu, Aurel Băşu and Adam Bălţatu, who revolted against academic conformism and wanted to paint in nature.

Who will write our history? The slogan of the young generation of Iasi intellectuals At the end of 1916, Romania faces an unprecedented situation in our modern history. After Bucharest was occupied by the Central Powers, the capital of Romania moved to Iasi. Former capital of Moldova, this historic city suddenly becomes the Romanian capital of war and is simply besieged by the thousands of refugees who had left from the way of the invaders. Along with the population, the Royal Family, the Government and the Romanian Parliament are taking refuge in this small town, from where they try to lead the state, to restore the army that has suffered irremediable losses,

and especially to mobilize the demoralized population. The drama of the refugees, who failed to reach their destination and died daily by the thousands, was amplified by the harsh conditions of the weather, famines, plagues, extinctive typhus1, as well as by a terrible railway accident. Although this episode has been difficult to overcome, it is important that it has not shaken the Romanians’ belief in national unity, their ability to be solidary, or their power to recover and to start all over again. 1

Moldovan (1919), 16

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In these years, Iasi becomes a real capital of war, from where all the efforts of national resistance, as well as those of rebuilding the historical boundaries of Great Romania, will be coordinated. Deprived of the old times brilliance2 and incapable to accommodate too many refugees, Iaşi has assumed and completed the difficult task of being the core of the state, of hosting the most important state institutions, and of taking important decisions for maintaining national integrity. During these two difficult years3 (November 1916 - November 1918), the population of Iaşi grew significantly from 75,000 to 300,0004, without taking into account the military, medical or diplomatic missions staying in the capital of Moldova and contributing significantly to our national reunification. We can also mention, in this political context, that many Russian troops settled their headquarters in Iasi. In order to discuss the issue of union with the rest of the country, delegates from Bessarabia and Bucovina will arrive in Iasi, and there will be discussions ahead of the achievement of the grand project. The problem of union becomes the historical work of all Romanians everywhere. Achieving the effective union becomes a matter of time, and Iasi will do all it can to reach this great goal. The city, which has become the last bastion of national resistance, is suffocated by too many refugees. The precarious conditions in which they were forced to live led to the appearance and spread of typhus. Queen Maria mentions in the War Journal (1916-1917) that she lived for two weeks in the city’s train station because she had no place to go. In those years of poverty, famine and cold, Queen Maria played a decisive role in the reunification of Romania and was the soul of the heroic resistance of Iasi, which was rightly called the “Capital of Romanian Resistance”. Women’s support for the mobilization of the population has not been neglected at all. In several localities in Moldova, with the support of Queen Maria, commissions, committees and charitable societies appeared: the National Red Cross Committees, the Regional 2 Corneliu Moldovan described in the winter of 1916, Iaşi: “Before it was a dead city, (...) the ghost of the glorious Capital of the past reflects in the air the glory and majesty for so many centuries of glory and bravery, and without realizing you were purifying your soul in light and godliness, adjusting your steps to the suggestive rhythm of prayer. This is how I remember the Iaşi of the school years, when my young soul got drunk by the monotonous reverie of the picturesque twilight seen from the Copou hill, but now I no longer recognize it. “Moldovan (1919), 14. 3 Iaşi during the war: “The war wiped out its silence, silenced the memories and troubled its sleepiness (...). Some of them just barely moving, leaning on a crutch or a weapon, seem like ghosts, so transparent and frightening ... Moldovan (1919), 14-15 4 Moldovan (1919), 15-16.

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Committee for Refugees, the Family of Fighters Society, the War Impaired Society, the Society for the Protection of Orphans of War, etc. Women in Moldova gathered food, clothing and money through public queries for the wounded, refugees, orphans and their families. Besides these remarkable women, famous actresses such as Maria Filotti, Elvira Popescu, Mărioara Popescu and Maria Bulfinski also participated in this activity. Several Transylvanian refugees, located in Iasi, have established the National Committee of Romanian Emigrants from Austria-Hungary. The Committee, elected at the meeting in the Spiridon Hall, consisted of 12 Transylvanian and Bucovinian refugees from Moldova. At this meeting, the poet Octavian Goga declared: “The liberation of Ardeal is achieved only by sacrifice on the part of all the Transylvanians ... We declare war on the Austro-Hungarian monarchy in order to unite Ardeal to the motherland, to Romania.” The Committee together with three members of the government, signed the declaration of war against Austria-Hungary, a statement later transmitted by Ion IC Bratianu to Vienne.5 In the summer of 1917, the first battalions of Transylvanian and Bucovinian volunteers consisted of Iasi refugees. In June, the population of Iasi welcomed with enthusiasm the Transylvanian volunteer troops, who were returning from Russia. Painter Alexis Macedonski depicted a battalion of Transylvanians in a painting presented at the Mobilized Artists Exhibition. Culture and art people, who were then in Moldova, played a special role in mobilizing the population and encouraging it through press articles, organized concerts for the wounded, the plays played at the National Theatre in Iasi and, last but not least, through the works of art made on the front. In his memoirs, I. Duca wrote: “Our artists were going through hospitals, uttering patriotic verses in front of sick people, singing songs, performing concerts.” In these hard times, the press was a moral support because it promoted the confidence that all obstacles could be overcome and that Romanians, thanks to their sacrificial spirit, would write a glorious page in their history. Some newspapers that appeared in Bucharest moved to Iasi. Among them is the Neamul românesc, newspaper, where Nicolae Iorga wrote. Other newspapers already existing in Iasi, such as Opinia, Mișcarea and Evenimentul, intensified their activity, were a balance factor in the society of the past, and turned their attention towards 5 Deac, Toacă (1978), 204


sacrifice of peace and happiness to succeed in the ideal that you shed light upon.”6 In the first half of 1917, the intelligentsia of the past set its talents and qualities in the service of the realization of the great national ideal, the union of all Romanians. Some of the most important personalities of the time, Nicolae Iorga and George Enescu7, made donations, charitable acts and morally supported soldiers wounded in the war, their widows and orphaned children. A number of festivals, theatre performances and concerts were organized in the National Theatre Hall in Iasi, in honour of the Allies. A series of personalities of cultural and artistic life were to attend these events, which mainly involved works of historical and moral character.

Figure 2. Octav Băncilă, composition entitled Pax

the mobilization of the population. Under the guidance of the writer Mihail Sadoveanu, a new publication would be published, Romania (February 1917-March 1918), which called itself «the organ of the national defense», was addressed to all Romanians and called for solidarity. From all the publications of the time, it is worth pointing out that the newspaper Opinia launches the most famous slogan of the age, which, after the publication of the article, will be embraced by all the citizens of Iasi. The Question Who Will Write Our History, addressed to all young intellectuals in 1917, receives an answer: «You will write it with great and uplifting deeds, with the abnegation and sacrifice of our being for the perfecting of a great and holy ideal, with the deprivations of a painful wandering life that rises to martyrdom, with the sacrifice of your wealth and labour for years, all facts that cannot be covered up so that the truth would be darkened. It will be written, with all its deeds, by a whole courageous army, and by the whole world, who wanted to offer the

The first festival, organized in Iasi, was - as Mr. I.G. Duca wrote - the Romanian-Russian8 festival and this was not a coincidence. Several Russian regiments were stationed in Iasi. The historical pieces that were staged at the National Theatre led to the idea of the union and the recapture of the Romanian origins. Thus, immediately after the retreat in Iasi, the plays Apus de Soare (Sunset) by Barbu Ştefănescu Delavrancea, with C. Nottara in the role of Stephen the Great and Învierea lui Ștefan cel Mare (The Resurrection of Stephen the Great) by Nicolae Iorga9 were staged. In the New Year wishes written by Nicolae Iorga and read by C. Nottara, the confidence in the realization of the great national ideal is stated: “The Year Coming / On Clear Wings / With Promise / About Victory / Great Victory / Holy Vengeance / To Make Us Again/One Country / To Raise / Our Nation to Grow.”10 Not even painters have been indifferent to the general efforts to mobilize the population. Tonitza published in Iasiul newspaper on July 7, 1915 issue, some eloquent remarks about the fighting spirit of his colleague Octav Băncilă and his obvious interest in the social themes. The emergence of such an image was not a coincidence, because the war had begun and was to most Romanians an imminent danger. In a showcase on Cuza Voda Square in Iasi, he exhibits a composition entitled Pax (figure 2), depicting a strong worker breaking a sword. According to Tonitza, this work can be considered, on the one hand, the first allegory of the war symbolized by the sword, and on the other, the first image expressing 6 Deac, Toacă (1978), 204-211 7 Duca (1981), 20: “In this respect, George Enescu was the most tireless. Withour respite, everywhere, he used his talent for the needs of the country.” 8 Duca (1981), 20. 9 Deac, Toacă (1978), 210. 10 Deac, Toacă (1978), 210-211.

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the revolt against the war. Thus, a series of exhibitions took place, beginning with the end of 1917, which aim to achieve, with limited material and artistic means, true images of the struggle for the reunification of the Great Romania. Created at the beginning of 1917, the canvas of Stefan Dumitrescu The Dead from Casin (fig.3) was firstly considered by Costin Petrescu, as a member of the jury of the Exhibition of the Mobilized Artists, a masterpiece of the Romanian painting and a genuine documentary depicting the horrors of First World War. A few months later, the exhibition of the Romanian Art group, founded by Ştefan Dimitrescu, Camil Ressu and Nicolae Tonitza, was opened in Iaşi.

Figure 3. Ștefan Dimitrescu, The Dead from Casin

The Beginning of the Russian Revolution in Iasi (1917) In January 1916, many Russian troops arrive in Iaşi in a «wild march of fanfare», rhythmically moving their hands and humming songs of bravery, making you think about the village choirs of the Volga steps. Angry that the dwellers of Iasi were not welcoming, the Russian soldiers took everything they could from the shops or the grain stores: toilet water bottles, food and grain reserves. When they did not organize parties, the Russian soldiers - like genuine merchants - sold various commodities in the market: tobacco, sugar, socks, boots, olives, fur hats, thread, tea, cans, soap, butter and icons.11 The soldiers did not carry weapons and ammunition with them, as these were transported in the carts12 that followed them. This is how our “Allies” presented themselves, who promised to defend Moldova from any threat of the Central Powers. Camil Ressu painted several works with the Russian troops stationed during this time on the streets of Iaşi and provoked chaos. 11 “... Each soldier wore a small bazaar on his back, which he usually installed in the market. He sold tobacco, sugar, socks, cisterns, olives, hats, threads, tea, cans, soap, butter, icons - in a word, whatever you wanted ... For one liter of alcohol he was able to get rid of his shoes immediately , even though in the end the need forced him to steal a friend’s shoes. When he finished his trade, he went to his homeland to supply or devastated the shop of a poor Jew ... “ 12 Moldovan (1919), 16-17.

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All the plans of the Russian army were thwarted by the assassination of Tsar Nicholas II, by the Russian revolution of the autumn of 1917, and by the occupation by the German and Austro-Hungarian troops of Bucovina and Galicia. Defeated and demoralized, the Russian troops led by the new Bolshevik leaders Ivan Ilici Lenin and Lev Davidovich Trotsky - had to sign the Brest-Litovsk Peace Treaty on March 3, 1918 and accept the dissolution of the former Tsarist Empire. Under these conditions, the secret treaty signed with Romania was no longer valid, and neither the Russian troops could defend the territories where they stood. On the Russian front, the Russian revolution - as Romanian painter Aurel Popp wrote - was received by the Russian soldiers with joy and enthusiasm.13 . After the revolution began, the Russian troops became “shepherdless flocks”, they forgot the military discipline, wanted to exterminate the bourgeoisie and proclaim the sovereignty of “raspublic”. The Bolshevik Revolution, for soldiers or for ordinary people, was a rescue in the face of “horror and terror of human wickedness”14. 13 Zaharia (2014), 2. 14 Zaharia (2014), 2.


Bucharest and Iasi. Exhibition activity of Romanian artists during the war Romania’s entry into the Great War on August 15, 1916 ended a long period of cultural effervescence and artistic prosperity. While during the period of neutrality a lot of exhibitions were organized and there were still commissioners willing to invest in works of art, at the beginning of the war and especially after the withdrawal in Moldova, a profound political, economic and social crisis followed. The unfavourable conditions in Moldova - famine, demographic excess and poor means of subsistence - have made it impossible for some time to organize exhibitions in Iaşi, and artists mobilized on the front to perform works on the theme of battling. In Bucharest, under German rule, the exhibition activity was quite rich, similar to the one preceding the war. Occupants, who considered themselves true protectors of the arts, tried to attract the sympathy and goodwill of the Bucharest population by establishing a climate of normality. Thus, after the exhibition of Bulgarians Dimitrie Panceff and Radomir Mandoff in April 1917, exhibiting works on the front or romantic landscapes with ruins, an exhibition of works of German art belonging to Romanian collectors and almost monthly personal exhibitions of Romanian artists followed: I. Muntenescu, Maria Ciurdea-Steurer, Iosif Steurer, B’Arg (Ion Bărbulescu), Atanasescu, Ion Țincu, Alexandru Henția, Pan Ioanid, Adela Jean, H. Aescher, P. Ceneri, Aspasia Mavrogheni, Ludovic Basarab, Gheorghe Sîrbu, Petre Troteanu, O. Cantini, Zamphiropol-Dall, Coconiade, W. Hugo. If the works exhibited by artists in the personal exhibitions were mediocre, the same cannot be said about the collective exhibition opened on September 1, 1917, in the “Nicolae Grigorescu” halls of the Romanian Athenaeum Palace, where the members of the Artistic Youths were present: G. D. Mirea, Nicolae Vermont, Ștefan Popescu, Jean Al. Steriadi, Cecilia CuțescuStorck, Ipolit Strîmbu, Gheorghe Petrașcu, Ary Murnu, Constantin Aricescu, Nina Arbore, Dumitru Paciurea, Frederic Storck. The organizing committee of this exhibition included H. Braune, the director of Munich Pinacoteca, the German painter Dzialis and the Romanian artists: G. D. Mirea, J. Al. Steriadi and Frederic Storck.

While many exhibitions opened in Bucharest, during the entire year of 1917, there are only a few personal exhibitions of the painters O. Briese and Aurel Vintilescu, where rustic scenes and landscapes were exhibited. The most important event of the year was the collective exhibition, prepared by the Great General Headquarters of the Romanian Army, with the works of the Romanian artists mobilized on the front “to execute, by nature, various emotional scenes of the war.” After a long period of delays, the exhibition will open on January 24, 1918, in the four rooms of the School of Belle-Arts in Iasi, with 70 paintings, sculptures, sketches and drawings from the front. Numerous artists participate in this event, which is distinguished by the approach of large subjects, made with modest materials. Among the painters and sculptors who exhibit - either scenes on the front, or landscapes, sketches and miniatures – it is worth remembering: Nicolae Mantu, Camil Ressu, Dumitrescu Stoica, Traian Cornescu, Alexis Macedonski, Dumitru Hîrlescu, Constantin Petrescu-Dragoe, Petre Remus Troteanu, Alexandru Poitevin Scheletti, Ștefan Dimitrescu, Ionescu Doru, Aurel Băeșu, O. Briese, Alexandru Călinescu, Oscar Han, Cornel Medrea, Ion Mateescu, Richard Hette, Alexandru Severin, Aurel Chiciu and T. Gh. Tomescu. With the conclusion of Peace in Bucharest in April 1918, Iasi organizes not less than 41 personal exhibitions of the following artists: Adam Bălțatu, Gh. Chirovici, V. I. Popa, A. Băeșu, N. N. Beldiceanu, N. Mantu, B’Arg, Horia Niculescu, Richard Hette, Elena Adamovici, Iosif Steurer, Iosif Ross, Max H. Maxy, Iosif Iser, Max W. Arnold, Alexandru Moscu, Ion Iordănescu, Gh. Cosmovici, Gh. Popovici, Mihai Onofrei, Alexandru Călinescu, Ion Mateescu, Olga Greceanu, Constantin Artachino, Oscar Han, O. Briese, Paul Verona, Alice Sfințescu, Maria Fărcășanu, D. Brătescu, Paul Scorțescu, Horațiu Dimitriu, Aurel Chiciu and Lucian Grigorescu. These personal exhibitions included, among other things, works on the front and were organized, with the support of N. D. Cocea, who considered himself a true protector of the arts, in the two rooms of the Omul Liber newspaper in 18 Lăpuşneanu Street.

The Romanian Art Association. The creed of a new generation of artists On March 9, 1918, the painter Ştefan Dimitrescu signed, along with several colleagues of the generation that had been on the front (Nicolae

Dărăscu, Ion Theodorescu-Sion, Camil Ressu and Oscar Han), the “twinning document” of the Romanian Art Association in his personal home 13


Figure 4. The opening of the exhibition

Figure 5. The opening of the exhibition

from Iasi. After only a month, the members of the association, who were joined by Dimitrie Paciurea and Nicolae Tonitza, opened their first exhibition in a shop in Iasi, on 18 Lapusneanu Street, and their intention was to give a response to the conformism of the Young Artist Exhibitions in Bucharest.

itself. The emergence of the social theme, due to the artists’ compassion over the discontents of the humble, is not accidental. Therefore, Romanian interwar art will be characterized by the return to tradition, the repositioning of the artist towards his purpose, and an unprecedented artistic revival.

Registered in the annals of the Romanian Art Society as its first manifestation15, , the exhibition included the works of artists Traian Cornescu, Nicolae Dărăscu, Ștefan Dimitrescu, Ionescu-Doru, Oscar Han, Iosif Iser, Alexis Macedonski, Dimitrie Paciurea, Theodor Pallady, Camil Ressu, Ion Theodorescu-Sion, Nicolae Tonitza și Francisc Șirato. The first collective event in Iasi, after the Mobilized Artists Exhibition, was a unique opportunity for artists to exhibit their works created on the front, but also a first attempt to lay the foundations of a genuine Romanian style.16 Many of the chroniclers considered that this artistic society refreshed the artistic life of the early years after the war and gave it a new breath.

Selective references

The creations of the Romanian artists, inspired by the cruel and ruthless reality of the war, contributed to the abandonment of the sterile academic style promoted by the School of Fine Arts in Iasi in the pre-war period. The study of the ancient models in the welcoming interiors of the workshops is replaced by an art more anchored in reality, by new stylistic landmarks inspired by the traditional artistic heritage, by the attempt to set up a genuine national style, and a much richer thematic repertoire. The inspirational sources of these works, whether paintings, sculptures or graphic works, become the reality, and the centre of gravity is the human being

Oprea, P., 1969. Societăți artistice bucureștene (Bucharest Artistic Societies), Bucharest: Meridiane Publishing House

15 Brezianu (1964), 144. 16 Oprea, P. (1975).

14

Brezianu, B., “Gruparea Arta Română (1918-1926)”, S.C.I.A., series Arta Plastică, TOM 11, No. 1 (1964), p. 144 Deac A., Toacă I., 1978. Lupta poporului român împotriva cotropitorilor (The struggle of the Romanian people against the invaders) 1916-1918, Bucharest: Editura Militară, p. 204-211 Duca, I. G., “1917 –first months”, Flacăra, no. 13 (March 26, 1981), p. 20 Moldovan, C., “Iașii”, Luceafărul, no. 1 (1919), p. 14-17

Oprea, P., 1975. Peregrinări în arta românească (Wandering in Romanian Art), Bucharest: Litera Publishing House Zaharia, A. “Pictorul Aurel Popp, fotografii din Primul Război Mondial” (Painter Aurel Pop, pictures of World War I), Informația Zilei, August 17, 2014, p. 2 Alina Petrescu, Curator, The National Museum of Art of Romania, alyna_ptr@yahoo.com


Figure 1. Csángós from Săcele on St. Michael’ s celebration day

Ethnic Multiculturalism in Țara Bârsei (Land of Barsa). The Csángós of Lutheran Confession

Profiling the cultural aesthetic values of the village world and of all the tools that have contributed to their realization, from concept (customs, beliefs, personal experiences, superstitions) to methodology (techniques, means) is the purpose of any folk art museum. Moreover, the knowledge of the ethnicity, with all its varied and elaborate national forms, inter-regional influences and current modernization trends, whose contribution to the national folk culture is indisputable, advocates the need to enrich and research further the minority cultural heritage held by the relevant cultural institutions. Since the first post-Gustian researches undertaken by the Village Museum in Bucharest, this aspect has been an important reference point when organizing an outdoor ethnographic museum as such. When the great scholar Dimitrie Gusti defined the new ethnocultural space, inaugurated in Bucharest in 1936, as a “school of knowledge about and love for our village and its peasant”, he no doubt had also in

mind the contribution of the ethnic minorities to the overarching national cultural values. The Lippovan Russians and the Szeklers were the first minorities represented in the open air exhibition of the Dimitrie Gusti Village Museum, and the efforts undertaken by the museum management and its specialized staff during the last ten years have materialized in bringing, reconstructing and exposing four more ethnic households (Transylvanian Saxon, Hutsul, Tatar and Jewish households, respectively), along with tangible and intangible assets belonging each of the four ethnic minorities in question. The Csángó community also enjoyed much attention from the Village Museum in Bucharest, which has carried out projects specifically dedicated to discovering the heritage of the Csángó ethno-cultural group. This article deals with a less known branch of this ethnic group, that of the Lutheran Csángós in Săcele, Braşov County. 15


Historic and Ethnographic Background In the 13th century, the south-eastern borders of Transylvania, represented by Țara Bârsei (Land of Barsa) (with Apaţa in the north, Vlădeni in the east and Prejmer in the west), were enclosing the part of the Romanian territory that was then under the Hungarian kingship ruling. This contiguous territory was a permanent concern of the Hungarian kingdom, which was worried about the absence of a local military force to defend St. Stephen’s crown from the danger posed by the steppe populations, which were constantly on the move. This so called “limes” was bordering the region known as Cumania, meaning the north-eastern part of what was later to become Walachia. The colonization by Szeklers and Saxons of some parts of the Transylvanian region did not solve the problem, with the Hungarian crown focusing on reaching an understanding with the Teuton Order soldier-monks, who had both the military and the missionary power to defend that border, facilitating the process of converting the population from the colonized areas to Catholicism. Thus, the Țara Bârsei, named after the stream Bârsa, becomes, in its German version, the Burzenland. Established there in 1211, the Teutonic Knights organized their administrative and military center at Feldioara, a fortress whose ruins are still in place today. In 1211, Țara Bârsei covered broadly the lands stretching between the Bârsa River and Hallemeag, with the village of Săcele, which was to be extensively colonized by the Csángós, was outside the borders of these lands.1 The most important town in Bârsa Land is Brasov, whose existence was documented as far back as in mid 13th century. The Comitatus Braschoviensis – a status held until 1377, when the town was included in the Alba County - had a diverse ethnic composition, where the native population (free peasants and peasants under the thralldom of royal and noble estates) lived together with Szeklers, Hungarians, Transylvanian Saxons, Slavic minorities and... Changos.2 Thanks to its strategic geographic positioning and its relative defensive power conferred both by the natural landscape and by manmade walls, Brașov was soon to become an important fair market, frequented by merchants of various origins (Armenians, Wallachians, Szeklers, Moldavians, Transylvanian Saxons, Greeks etc.). The many roads and mountain passes of the Land of Barsa were ensuring its connection with all the other 1 Țara Bârsei, Academiei Române Publishing House, Bucharest, 1972, p. 63. 2 Ibidem, p. 50.

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Figure 2. Household in Cernatu, Săcele – Csángó girls, 1905 (Budapest Archives, inv. no. 101880)

Romanian countries: with Wallachia, via the Bran, Rucăr, Timiş and Teleajen roads; with Transylvania, via the Fagaras and Ghimbav passes; with Moldova, through the Ghimas and Oituz roads.3 Trade favored the economic development of the city of Brasov and encouraged cultural advancement by cultivating people’s interest and taste in art, music and theater. Religious practice followed suit, under the guidance of scholars like Ioan Honterus and Deacon Coresi, with the former promoting successfully the Lutheran Reformation among (and not only) the Transylvanian Saxon community) and setting up the first printing press house in Braşov, followed by the founding of the first gymnasium in the city, in 1544, and the latter printing books, in Slavonic, at first, and later in Romanian, for the Christian Romanians, a fact that, beyond its religious consequences, also contributed to enriching people’s knowledge in general. To serve the printing house, a paper mill was also built in Brasov, which was the first paper mill in Southeast Europe. Starting from the end of the seventeenth century, the Habsburg ruling and the organization of border regiments for the defense of south-eastern borders will hinder the trade of goods between Transylvania and other Romanian countries, thereby favoring the import of goods from the Austrian Empire. Braşov loses some of its economic privileges and experiences the intensification of the feudal pressures, which leads to frequent social upheavals that will continue until the second half of the nineteenth century. During this time, the Romanian merchants are acquiring more and more 3 R. Manolescu, Wallachia and Moldova Trade with Brașov (14th-16th Cent.), Bucharest, 1965, pp. 30 and the next.


of the commercial capital of the city, the Romanian language is increasingly promoted, with supporters of the economic growth of the city of Brasov being seconded by the actions of the many cultural promoters of those times.4

Săcele – A Concise History Lying along the southern border of the Barsa Land, Săcele locality was initially encompassing the following seven villages: Baciu, Turcheș, Cernatu, Satulung, Târlungeni, Zizin și Purcăreni. Today, Săcele comprises only the first four of the villages mentioned above, since in 1950 the village of Târlungeni became an independent commune, made up of the villages of Purcareni and Zizin. 4 The villages that later formed the town of Săcele are mentioned in a document dated May 16, 1366, when the Hungarian crown, through King Louis I of Anjou, offers as a gift to his trusted friend, count Stanislaw “and his descendants”5 the four villages mentioned above. The toponym Săcele will appear mentioned in historic documents about a century later, in the letters sent by the Wallachian Prince, Vlad Călugărul (Vlad the Monk), to the magistrate of Braşov. The great Romanian historian Nicolae Iorga believes that the name Săcele signifies the large number of villages that were to become part of the locality, with the toponym presumably deriving from the word “sătucele” or “saktyle” (small villages). Shepherding was the main occupation of the first inhabitants of these lands, called villae valachicales in the official papers of the time, followed by agriculture, craftsmanship, and trade. “Mocanii”, the inhabitants of Săcele, were famous not only as hardworking people, but also as fervent supporters of their community development. As the area was ruled by the Hungarian administration, its development depended on the social tranquility; however, the villages of Săcele were not spared natural disasters and their many consequences. For example, in the first half of the sixteenth century, frequent floods destroyed the crops, causing hunger and plague epidemics that would reoccur until the end of the century. The plague epidemic of 1718-1719 killed 3000 people out of the 11,000 inhabitants of Săcele at the time. The road cross in the village of Cernatu, built in 1719, under which 400 victims of the plague epidemic victims were buried, stands as a proof of 4 N. Dunăre, Țara Bârsei, Bucharest, 1972, vol. I, p. 55. 5 Formulas often used in the appropriation papers of that period.

Figure 3. House in Turcheș, Săcele, with verandah facing the courtyard

the hidden enemy that depopulated Europe during the medieval and the modern epochs. Urbanization, which started at the turn of the nineteenth century, makes Săcele into one of the most important cultural and spiritual centers in the Bârsa Land. Romanian and confessional schools and monumental churches are built now (St. Nicholas church in the village of Baciu; St. Archangels Michael and Gabriel church in Satulung; The Assumption of Virgin Mary in the villages of Turcheş, Satulung and Cernatu; the Lutheran Evangelical Churches in the villages of Turcheş, Baciu, Satulung and Cernatu; the Reformed Church in Satulung; St. Michael Roman Catholic Church in the village of Turcheş). As early as the beginning of the modern era, the Bârsan locality was already boasting impressive achievements such as electric lighting, the first suburban railroad in Romania (in 1892), connecting Brasov and Satulung, and the first local credit institution – the Săcelean People’s Bank (1925). The history of Săcele speaks not only about the inhabitants’ back-breaking work, but also about their sacrifices on the reunion war front, recorded for eternity on the funerary monuments erected in their honor. Today, Săcele presents itself as a locality with a diverse confessional composition of the population (Orthodox, Roman Catholics, Reformed, Pentecostals, Lutherans etc.) and with an economy dominated by industry, commerce and tourism. The potential of the locality as a tourist attraction resides in the beauty of its landscapes, which offer many recreation and leisure opportunities to people fond of excursions, nature and adrenalin or to those who simply enjoy the tranquility of the valleys of the Southern Carpathians. Landmarks like the Seven Stairs Canyon, the Tamina, the Limestone Waterfall, the Big Rock Peak and the Bunloc Hill (for gliding fans) and the Ice Cave, near the Ciucas and Piatra Mare massifs, as well as the closeness to the famous mountain resorts of Poiana Braşov, Râşnov, Predeal and Bran, are all inviting nature-loving tourists to visit the region. 17


The Changos – Origin and Spirituality Any scientific work aimed at studying an ethnic community has to inevitably go through the history of its origin, before proceeding to observing the transformations, customs, spirituality, or material traces, all depending on the research topic being approached. Yet, when it comes to Csángós, whose origin still remains a mystery, we will not speak in any of these terms. Firstly, because neither the Hungarian nor the Romanian historians have provided us with enough arguments to demonstrate their theories, while dismissing other, and secondly, the matter in question is beyond the scope of our research, which is why an opinion going in or contrary to the direction mentioned above, which is based on the same arguments, would be redundant.6 Therefore, our ethnological approach will be focused on the considerations dealing with ascertaining the ethnic consciousness of the group under consideration, without attempting to deliver a point of view as to the origin of the Csángós in the study area, based on the researches carried out, especially in a context where the distinction between confessional beliefs and national affiliation is often blurred. Back in the fourteenth century, when Săcele was first mentioned in official documents, no reference was made Csángós as part of the population of the locality. A century later, however, as we understand from a document issued by King Ladislaus V, dated May 6, 1456, the Romanians from the villages of Cernatu, Satulung, Turcheş and Baciu, who were undesirable to the Arpad state, were replaced by the Magyars who came to the area from Alba County, looking for easier work. The “substitution” did not mean that the Romanians were literally displaced by the Magyars, insofar as the former were reportedly still the main taxpayers to the fiscal administration of Braşov, but that the Romanians were probably replaced from what was a strategic Romanian institution to the Hungarian kingdom: the frontier guard (plăieșie). The frontier guardian function the villages of the Săcele sub-zone was in charge of was taken over by the Csángós, who where soon made serfs of the Bran Castle. Besides the Hungarian origin, the Slavic origin 6 For further information on this issue, see: Petru Râmneamţu, The issue of Romanians’ iradiation from Transylvania the Romanian Principalities, Cluj, 1946; Joseph Petru M. Pol, The origin of Catholic population in Moldova and the Franciscans, their pastors for centuries, Săbăoani-Roman, 1942; Györffi Istvan, A Molduai csangar, Budapest, 1917; N. Iorga, The privileges of șangăi from Târgu Ocna, Vălenii de Munte, 1910; Dumitru Mărtinaş, The origin of ceangăi from Moldova, Bucharest, 1985; Ştefan Csapu, The origin of ceangăi and their settlement in Sacele villages, in “Plaiuri Săcelene” magazine, no. 81, Brasov, 2014

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is also widely attributed to the Csángós by the persons interviewed under this study, although the historic documents refer to two distinct waves of colonizers of the Seven Villages: the Hungarians in 1456 and the Szeklers in 1562, who came from the Land of Barsa to escape serfdom. Here, they enjoyed the status of border guards, leading a way of life specific to free people, though obliged to pay the tithe (dijmă - decima).7 The right to use the mill, the right to possess and use weapons and the right to seek remedy in court without the feudal lord’s intermediation were all advantages that attracted the Csángós to these places. From the Csángó community we find out that the Csángós are presumably a mixture of Szeklers, Pechenegs and Cumanas, resulting from their cohabitation before their establishment in Săcele as guards of the Olt River, Siret River and Eastern Carpathians borders.8 Scientific research does not dismiss this possibility, arguing that the Csángó’s sibilant utterance might be a proof of such origin.9 We further find out from the Csángós interviewed that these “guardians” of the Hungarian border did not necessarily designate a combat unit, as their task was basically that of warning the population of the presence of a foreign enemy by firing their guns repeatedly10 and tolling the church bells; in fact, the word “ceango” means bell-ringer, i.e. the one who warns about an enemy invasion, which explains the Csángós’ role as border guards.11 This meaning of the word cannot be found in the specialized historiography, which claims instead that the word “ceangău” is allegedly the badly pronounced Romanian version of the corresponding Hungarian word, as the Romanians were in the process of magyarization, and that the verb csángani (to mix, to half-breed) is either attributed to the Romanian speakers of altered Hungarian language12, or is believed to originate from the word Csángó (wanderer, nomad), a nickname given to a population practicing the transhumance. This latter assertion is contradicted not only by the respondents’ answers to the interviews, but also by documents, according to which the Csángós from Săcele were more 7 The building of the ethnographic museum in Sacele functioned, from the mid-fifteenth to the eighteenth centuries, as a place to collect the tithe. The building is still called by the locals “Casa dijmelor” (the tithe house). 8 Kovacs Lehel, profesor, Satulung, interviewed on 22.09.2017. 9 Dumitru Mărtinaș, The origin of ceangăi from Moldova, Bucharest, 1985, p. 16. 10 Sipos Istvan, jewelery artisan, Satulung, interviewed on 22.09.2017. 11 Veres Emese, etnographer, Budapesta museum, Baciu village, interviewed on 21.09.2017. 12 Dumitru Mărtinaș, op.cit., p. 29.


involved in agriculture than in shepherding. Sovago (salt ore cutter) and Csámog or Csomago (“ciomag” = bat) are other nicknames attributed to the Csángós, and are related to occupations that may rather connect to the Mocan (“mocani”) community in the study area (“ciomag” = shepherd’s bat). Y According to Y. Wichmann13 the name “ceangău” originates from those Szeklers who chose to leave their community and settle down in areas inhabited by Romanians, but Bakó Géza comes with a remark that cannot be ignored, namely that while Szeklers were never called Hungarians (or by any other names), but Szeklers only, the Csángós are referred to in the documents of the time as Hungarians.14 For the sake of consistency, we will formally accept this latter argument, all the more that it is consistent with the views of all the Csángós interviewed in the villages of Săcele: “We were Catholic Magyars, we are Hungarians of evangelical Lutheran confession; we adopted the Reformation under pressure, we speak the standard Hungarian language, unlike the Moldavian Csángós, who speak altered Hungarian, and from which we differ by our traditional costumes and our religion; we have lived and still live in harmony with the Romanians from these places”. This cohabitation is almost peremptory and it is perhaps most important in the context of our research, revealing a peaceful cohabitation, free of the nationalistic antagonisms stemming from fake patriotism. Here are some of the statements of Sacelan Csángós: “The Csángós’ relations of with the other inhabitants of this area have been good; today, there are many mixed marriages, though in the past we were seen as a secluded community”15; “Csángós are a closed community; they help one another, they visit one other, but they aren’t very close to those from outside their community, though they interact with them, often engaging in trading activities with the Romanians”16; “Csángós have always been in good relations with the other inhabitants of Săcele, regardless of ethnicity”17; “Csángós are extremely diligent and they can be very open, though they don’t trust outsiders too much. I, 13 Wichmann, Wörterbuch des ungarischen Moldauer Nordcsángó - und des Hétfaluer Csángódialektes nebst grammatikalischen Aufzeichnungen und Texten aus dem Nordcsángódialekt, publicat de Bálint Csűry și Artturi Kannisto, „Lexica Societatis FinnoUgricae”, IV, Suomalais-Ugrilainen Seura Helsinki, 1936. 14 Bakó Géza, „Contributions to the issue of ceangăi origin”, Studii și articole de istorie 4 (1962). 15 Barko Etelka, pensioner, aged 81, Baciu village; Veres Emese, etnographer, museum in Budapesta, aged 51, Baciu village, 21.09.2017. 16 Czimbor Izabella, 51, Baciu village, interviewed on 20.09.2017. 17 Kovacs Lehel, university professor, Satulung; the same opinions are expressed by other csangos, as for example from Sipos Istvan, jewelery artisan, Satulung; Daneș Cornelia, interviewed on 22.09.2017.

as a Romanian, I’ve had difficulties in gaining the trust of a woman from the Csángó community. I was only sure of that when she decided to show me her chest of family jewelry; at first, I thought she was doing that just to show off, but soon after I understood that it was actually a sign that I’d become a trustworthy person to her, someone she could confide in totally and without any fears. It was a gesture of friendship, sincerity and a proof of her feeling safe.”18 One of the few tense moments between the Csángós and the Romanians in Săcele occurred reportedly during the Revolution of 1848, when, carried away by the swirl of the nationalist grievances of the revolutionary movement, the two communities separated into two adverse groups. But the episode was forgotten shortly after and the two populations resumed their peaceful cohabitation. We can sum up the considerations about origin of the Csángós in Săcele and their inter-ethnic and interconfessional symbiosis by paraphrasing their priests: we are primarily Hungarians and Csángós secondarily; we have coexisted well with our neighbors and want to do the same in the future, while trying to preserve our cultural identity. Catholics at the time of their settlement in the Land of Barsa, the Csángós adopted the Protestant religion shortly after the Reform. The Reform spread rapidly, influencing the belief of many Christians in Europe. In 1542, after the death of the Roman Catholic bishop of Alba-Iulia, Ioan Statilco, who was also in charge with the Saxon churches, Johannes Honterus, a great scholar and humanist, seizes the moment and starts to spread Lutheranism among the Saxons and the Hungarians in Transylvania. Honterus requests the elimination of a discriminatory measure that was keeping a large mass of Christians in ignorance, insisting on the importance of the sermon and the worship in the national language of the faithful, thus combating the abuses of Catholic priests during the Catholic ritual.19 Thus, the year 1542 may be called “the year of Lutheranism” in Transylvania. It is the year when Honterus becomes the parish of Braşov, the year when the clergy from the Barsa Land convenes in large numbers in Brasov to lay the foundations for the organization of the new Saxon church, and the year when the first evangelical sermon ever in Transylvania is held at the Black Church. Three years later, Lutheranism was already in place in all the Saxon communities, who eventually declared 18 Pantea Dorottya, Baciu village. 19 Dragoescu Constantin, op.cit., p. 511.

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their religious unity at Mediaș.20 Unlike the Saxons, who were supporters of Luther’s ideas, the majority of Hungarians became followers of Jean Calvin, except for the Csángós in Săcele, who adopted Lutheranism, under the Saxon pressure, as the Saxons were the upper class. However, the conversion of Csángós must be seen more like the result of the influence exercised by the Saxon priests preaching in churches, and not necessarily as a consequence of economic or social privileges. It was basically a confirmation of or compliance with the cuius regio eius religio principle. The Lutheran Church had a positive effect on the Csángós, trying to help them find themselves, discover their origins, find their purpose in the future and maintain their community homogeneous, says priest Koradi Levente.21 The Csángós of Săcele have one church in each of the four villages: the Lutheran Evangelical-Lutheran Church in Satulung, whose construction started in the summer of 1895, being consecrated four years later; The Lutheran Evangelical Church in the village of Turcheş, put into service in 1885; The Evangelical

Figure 4. Csángós attending a church service

Church in the village of Baciu, the foundation of which was built in 1811; The Lutheran Evangelical Church in the village of Cernatu. All these churches are places of worship that are impressive by their high towers, their heavy bells, the simplicity of their iconostasis and the beauty of pipe organs, for the purchase of which Csángó believers made great financial efforts.

Occupations Agriculture and animal husbandry were the main occupations of the Csángós from Săcele; according to what both the members of the Hungarian cultural minority and the Romanians in this area use to say. While the Moan community were engaged in shepherding, being up on the mountains with their herds for two thirds of a year, the Csángós cultivated the land close to the Braşov border, called Bleschdörfer Feld (the Romanians’ field, which indicates the early presence of the Romanians in the area), contributing to a mutually advantageous cohabitation. From the Mocans, the Csángós obtained raw wool and processed wool products, as well as foodstuffs specific to the sheepfold, while the Mocan women, who stayed back home and cared for the household while their husbands were grazing their hers up on the mountains, bought agricultural products from the Csángós. 20 21 Crafts were, initially, the Saxon monopoly, with the Csángós dedicated solely to toiling their lands, buying handicraft objects from the Saxons in Brasov. Later, however, the Csángós, too, became good craftsmen, learning the craft of pottery, weaving, woodworking, 20 See Somesan Maria, The beginnings of the Romanian Church United with Rome, Bucharest, 1999.. 21 Koradi Levente, priest, the Evangelical Church in the village of Baciu, interviewed on 24.09.2017.

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lime kilning, clay kneading and wheeling and tannery.22 During the cold season, when the agricultural work was over, the Csángós switched to manufacturing wicker baskets, which they used in the household. Almost anything that needed storing was placed in a wicker basket, “tailored” to serve a specific purpose. Thus, one could find in a Csángó household wicker baskets for keeping firewood, laundry, bread, fruit, grain, alms and bee hives. The baskets were made of hornbeam twigs, rattan or wicker. Unpeeled and sturdier twigs were used for to make baskets for keeping bulkier objects, whereas boil-peeled ones were used for the baskets intended to hold more delicate objects. A scissors and a knife were the tools used by the housekeeper to manufacture household items, says Csaby István. Closely linked to logging and pottery making, the Csángós began to engage intensively in the carriage of goods, starting from the late 19th century. They carried forest wood to their people, but mostly to wood buyers from Brasov, Bucharest and even from Vienna. Csángós’ carts (carriages) were very sturdy and large and were made to travel on any road and could carry loads of up to five tons.23 Historian Balasz Orban recounts that, 22 Barko Etelko, pensioner, 81, Baciu village; Veres Emese, etnographer, Budapest museum, Baciu village.. 23 Kovacs Lehel, university professor, Satulung.


in the late nineteenth century, more than one third of the carriers in the Land of Barsa were Csángós from the villages of Săcele, who were transporting wood and all kinds of goods “along and across the country, in large carts, hauled by eight or ten horses”24. The same historian also tells us how a few Csángós from Săcele (Szorny Andras, Martis Koroly, Szos Ianos and Martis Istvan) travelled with their carts to as far as Lipsca (Leipzig), Germany, and how two brothers, Istvan and Ianos Köpe, from Satulung village, even got to transport food and ammunition to the Romanian Army during the War of Independence. It seems that the Csángós were thriving from this occupation, a fact proven, for example, by the generous donation made by the prosperous Köpe brothers to the Evangelical Church in Satulung, consisting of a clock worth 1,600 crowns.25 Yet, agriculture continued to be the main occupation of the Hungarian cultural minority of the place, with many of those involved in merchandise transportation buying lands with the money earned from the trade. The first coachmen in Bucharest in the second half of the nineteenth century were Csángós from the villages

Figure 5. Mrs. Pasztori Anna sewing traditional bonnets

of Săcele, who went to work in the big Wallachian city.26 We are told that the Csángós in Săcele were also famous for their mason skills. When forest exploitation was restricted by the city of Brasov, the Csángós had to learn other trades, such masonry and carpentry. The best bricklayers who worked in Bucharest, erecting nice brick buildings, were Sacelean Csángós. Today, only a few of the Csángós in Săcele work as farmers or craftsmen, the rest being employees in the public service sector.27

Architecture 24

25 26 27

The vernacular Secelean architecture is somewhat tributary to the typology of the Bârsan area, with households whose structure is a telltale of the Saxon influence. Houses and annexes are built on relatively narrow strips of land, which is why the dwellings are placed perpendicular to the road axis. Where the land parcel was not long enough to allow the building of the outhouses in the house tail, then the outhouses were built parallel to the street, separating the courtyard from the garden. The Csángó household does not differ significantly from the other dwellings in the area, save for a few peculiarities, which we will deal in more detail with later. The traditional houses were made of wood, with walls made of long, dovetail-jointed logs (German log joining system), glued with clay and painted in light colors (white or navy). The roof was covered with shingles. This type of dwelling was preserved until the end of the 19th century, even though, by an imperial decree issued in 1850, the Gubernius had ordered that all the houses should be made of stone and brick. Emperor Franz Joseph I took this decision after the devastating fires caused by the fights of the 1848 24 25 26 27

See Albumul Săcele, 2014, p. 32. Ibidem. Veres Emese, etnographer, Budapest museum, Baciu village. Album Săcele, 2014, p. 34.

Revolution. However, things did not change much in the household architecture in the years immediately following the enactment of the imperial decision. Mrs. Barko Etelka, a Csanco woman from Turcheş village (Săcele), tells us that, because of the lack of money, both the Csángós and the Mocans (Romanians), faced with the impossibility to rebuild their houses according to the order, covered them with less flammable materials, plating and plastering the wooden walls.28 The first houses had only two rooms, a single window, facing the street, with the bed in the room facing the street positioned opposite from the windowed wall, to protect the dwellers from air draught and from the glittering sunlight during the day. Besides, when sitting on the bed, one could see through the window the main gate of the household, just in case. If we take this description for granted, as it was made to us by Kovacs Lehel, a Csángó man from Săcele, we may say that, in the period under consideration (XVII-XVIII centuries), the front room of the Csángó household was not yet considered the “tidy room”, a status the room will acquire in the 19th century and maintain ever since. Later on, the Csángó started to build three-room wood houses, with two windows on the front wall. Brick houses appeared in 1850 and had 28 Barko Etelka, pensioner, aged 81, Baciu village.

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Figure 6. Csángó household barn (Turcheș, Săcele)

two windows, a skylight and stucco ornaments on the frontispiece, placed on a narrow strip on the wall facing the road. Around the year 1890, Csángó houses were built with three windows on the wall facing the road; the window facing the courtyard was a bit narrower, being, in fact, a porch window, a brand new architectural element for the period. In contrast to the Saxon houses, Csángó (and the Mocan) dwellings had extremely thick walls. For example, the house of Duța Ștefan, a Csángó man from the village of Satulung, built in 1862 by his grandfather, has walls about 70 cm thick. The foundation is made of carved stone and the walls are built of crushed stone mixed with brick fragments. The upper part of the ceiling, made of thick wood logs, is planked and covered with a layer of clay plastering about 10 cm thick.29 The structure of the house roofs in the villages of Săcele has not changed much in terms of their shape, still maintaining the two-slope form. The roofing material has nevertheless evolved from simple straw bundles (“jipi”), to shingles and finally to roof tiles. Initially, roof tiles were angled, then rounded on one edge (like fish scales) and finally, after the building of the tile factory in Târlungeni, rectangular).30 As for the roof structure, the trapezoidal part from under the pinion, originally made of wood boards and later of brick, is enlarged, to make room to some ornamental stucco, designed to enhance the beauty of the overall architectonic of the house. While 29 Duța Ștefan, Satulung, interviewed on 23.09.2017. 30 Sipos Istvan, jewelery artisan, Satulung.

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the frontispiece of the Romanian houses from the four Sacelean villages are most often decorated with Christian symbols, like the icon of a saint and the Christian cross, the decorations on the frontispieces of Csángó houses are in the shape of the pomegranate (the symbol of wealth and fertility) and of a pile iron (indicating Csángó’s traditional occupations). The urbanization of the area has radically altered the interior of the Csángó house to the point where one can learn how the traditional house looked like only from what one is told by the locals. Thus, we understand that, from a planimetric point of view, the Csángó dwelling used have three rooms: the so called “neat room”, the verandah and the pantry. Inside the “neat room” (tiszta szaba), which was, presumably, as of end of the eighteenth century, the front room facing the road, the Csángós used to keep their valuables and their most beautiful pieces of furniture. With the flooring made of planks of resinous wood, the room with a view to the road was a telltale of the artistic taste and the degree of wealth of the family. The raised bed captured the attention as soon as you entered the neat room; pillows and all kinds of linen, which could no longer fit into the traditional chest, were stacked in a big pile onto the bed, reminding of the old tradition of exposing the unmarried young woman’s dowry. The furniture included one (rarely two) benches placed along the wall or under the window, a dowry chest placed by the bedside, the “stinghia” (slat) with “cancee”, the “păreschiul” (wall cabinet) (called “armăroi” by the


Figure 7. Csángó household cellar (Turcheș, Săcele)

Saxons and “firida” by the Mocans), a table and chairs and, later, the chest of drawers. The room was so rarely used by the family that the Csángós used to say that they only entered it “with the priest’s blessing.” The verandah was the space where all the household activity took place, serving as both a kitchen and a living room. Two-thirds of the space was occupied by the beds/ benches and the traditional fireplace with built-in chimney (the latter was to be replaced by the brick or terracotta stove, starting from the 20th century). The other pieces of the furniture in the verandah were simple and comfortable, so that they were easy to handle during the daily house chores, while the walls were embellished with various hand-woven and sewn fabrics (cloths and wall rugs). From the verandah you could enter the cellar. Compared to the Saxon cellars, where the cellar could be accessed from the outside, Csángó cellars had an indoor access door, which made them good hiding places in those troubled times.31 The cellars were large size, specific to this type of dwelling, with multiple domes (“bolțișoare”) brick ceilings. Here, the family used to keep food reserves, while the foodstuff for every day use were kept in the pantry, which was the third room of the house. As far as the Csángós’ aesthetic taste is concerned, this is nowadays better illustrated by their colorful furniture, which contrasts with their woven cloths, whose coloring is somewhat austere. Brownish-red, yellowish-ocher, blue and green are the colors in which most pieces of 31 Pasztori Anna, Duta Stefan.

Figure 8. Wicket door, Satulung, Săcele

furniture in a Csángó house, and especially the dowry chests, are painted in. The furniture is richly ornamented with colorful flower and fowl motifs, painted on a contrasting colored background. As for the linen, the most embellished pieces of cloths are the pillowcases and the wall rugs, followed by the tablecloths and the bed covers. Born in a Csángó family from the village of Baciu, Czimbor Izabella weaves on a loom various cloths and items of traditional folk costumes, while teaching the craft to primary school children, in her attempt to prevent the vanishing of the weaving tradition. She says that the weaving starts from a drawn pattern. She shows us some the most popular motifs to decorate the woven fabrics: the star with 8 to 12 corners, the wheat spice, the tulip (in stylized form ), the bay leaf and the rooster’s crest.32 Once, besides the motifs mentioned above, sometimes the weaver added a stylishly sewn lettering, reading, for example, “play and work”, “the woman who loves her husband cooks for him” etc.33 Without making a tradition of the embroidering craft, the Csángós sometimes embroidered their linen with motifs like the lamb, the peacock or the tree of life. A typical Csángó household comprised the animal stable, the shed for keeping the firewood and the tools, the hay shed and the summer kitchen. Unlike Saxons, Csángós did not build their livestock stable next to and under the same roof with the hay, but as an outbuilding erected in the prolongation of their house, along with the shed for 32 Czimbor Izabella, Baciu village. 33 Pasztori Anna, Turcheș village

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all the households without exception had a walnut tree, which they usually planted near their barn.35

Figure 9. Dowry chest

firewood and tools. In the backyard, they used to build a barn, which was a truly imposing outbuilding, covered with a tent-like roof, where they kept their wheat chaff, the hay, the grain and their cart. The barn was high enough to allow a thresher to go inside.34 The barn had two partitions and had a large entrance in the middle. On one side of the barn, there was the wheat peal pit (wheat peel is very rich in vitamins and therefore is an extremely healthy sort of animal feed). In the evening, the Changos put some wheat peel in a big bucket, mixed it with hot water, let it like that over the night and fed their livestock on the nourishing mixture in the morning. On the other side of the barn, the Changos used to keep the straw resulting from reaping the wheat bundles with the thresher. The summer kitchen was small and located across the house. The summer kitchen was housing the bread oven and the kitchenware. The Csángós say that, in the past,

The gateways of a Csángó household, similar to the Saxons’, in terms their masonry structure, were neatly crafted, had massive solid wood pillars and a two-slope, “pagoda” like roof, which was covered with shingles, and a wicket made of thick planks, bearing resemblance with the entrance doors of the Orthodox churches in Eastern Europe. The gateway pillars were the most richly adorned parts, with carved and notched motifs symbolizing the sun (the rosette – the symbol of light and warmth), the rope (symbolizing man’s spiritual aspirations and the connection between heaven and earth) and the tree of life (the symbol of endless fertility). In most cases, the year when the gate was also engraved on each gate pillar. The iron door lock and handle added a distinguishing feature to the gate architectural ensemble. Csángós’ gates resembled the Mocans’, with either community claiming to be the originator of this architectural style. Although historiographers record the existence of gates of this type in Mocan ethno-cultural area, the Csángós are still claiming that they were the first to build such gates and that they later made them for the Romanians on request. The traditional water wells are missing from the Csángó household, and not only. We find out that, since 1890, the inhabitants of the seven Secelean villages have been supplied with running water, following investments made in building the water supply system by a Csángó man, who got rich doing business in Bucharest. As such, household water wells and community wells are absent from the area under consideration.

Traditional Folk Costumes The traditional folk costume is the most specific item of any nation and also the most difficult to preserve in all its authenticity, in a constantly modernizing world, heavily influenced by multicultural or, more recently, quasi-generalized trends. And Csángó folk costume is no exception to this rule, which explains why its ancient particularities could not be preserved, due, partly, to the Saxon influence. 34 35 Women’s shirts were made of white, pleated cloth and embroidered in red or yellow color, depending on woman’s age and status: the red-colored embroidery 34 Pasztori Anna, Turcheș village. 35 Kovacs Lehel, Csaby Istvan et al.

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Figure 10. A “Ceapsa” and a hair bun coil


Figure 11. Precious buckle – Barko Etelko

Figure 13. Csángó women dress in their festive clothes

Figure 12. Precious buckle and belts made by Csángó craftsman Sipos Istvan

was for unmarried girls, whereas the yellow-colored one, for the young, unmarried women. Old women always wore black clothing. One of the oldest and most original Csángó traditional garments was the dress, made of a very large and pleated piece of cloth hámosrokolya. Underneath, the Csángó woman wore a white shirt, with sleeves embroidered in cross stitched patterns, using the so called “lost road” stitching technique. On festive days, she wore a laced linen apron, a scarf, a handkerchief at her girdle and bag made of leather/linen/ cotton, also decorated with cross-stitches. After Confirmation (after proving their knowledge of Lutheran religion and their admission with full rights among adults – which happened at age of 16, for girls, and at the age of 18, for boys), the girls wore the red ribbon they received as a gift from their godmother on the Confirmation day.

Figure 14. Mrs. Anna Pasztori’s maternal (left) and paternal (right) grandmothers, Săcele

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Figure 15. Csángós dressed in traditional folk costumes

Figure 16. Barko Etelka dressed in a folk costume

an ornament, used to wear a bow-knot made of fabric, instead of the expensive piece of jewelry, just to keep up with the fashion, a habit commonly encountered in the Three Villages. Mrs. Anna Pásztori confirms Mr. Barkó’s recount by showing us her wedding precious buckle and delivering us the same inheritance narrative: “My father sold 60 acres of land (hold) to buy this jewel for me.”

Figure 17. Mrs. Pasztori Anna’s sister dressed in a folk costume

The married woman wore a “csepesz” or “ceapsă” (a cap) on her head, over her hair bun, starting from her first night as a married woman. When she married, a girl received a black velvet ribbon, nicely embroidered with flowery motifs, from the bridegroom, and, if the girl was from a wealthy family, she received from her parents, as a marriage gift, the “paftaua” (a precious buckle) (“kösöntyű”) and the “brâul” (girdle) (“bogláros öv”), which were very expensive adornments the Csángós used to buy from the Saxons in Brasov. But, as Mrs. Etelka Barkó tells us, only the wealthy family could afford to buy this kind of wedding adornments for their girl dowry, paying as much as the price of a pair of oxen for them.37 She also tells less wealthy girls, who did not afford such 26

The girl used to crochet and embroider their “căița” (headpiece), which she was to put on her head on her wedding night, embellishing it with colored motifs symbolizing the four elements (fire, water, air, and earth). The embroidered black velvet ribbon, the multicolored strips and the silk veil, fixed with beautifully ornamented needles, all reflected yet another Saxon influence. The headpiece (cap) had red colored tie-straps; a black ribbon was worn on top of the cap, symbolizing the worries the girl was expected to experience in her life as a married woman. The women wore shoelace boots. The bride wore a white dress made of laced cloth, a tulle-sleeve shirt, a tulle apron and a waistcoat.36 Csángó man’s traditional clothing consisted of a white shirt, ornamented with yellow-colored embroidery on the sleeves and the neckband and with red tassels (if a single man) or yellow tassels (if a married man) or white tassels (if an old men). The trousers (“cioareci”) were white, cut from one single piece of cloth, and the shirt was worn over the trousers, but it was shorter (well above the knee) compared to the Mocan shirt, which was knee-long.37 Over the shirt, the man wore a black vest, a brown belt (dészű) with leather inserts, a hat of the same color and long boots.38 From studies by ethnographer Lajos Kolumbán, we find out that the customs and the traditional clothing of the 36 Etelka Barko, aged 81, Baciu village. 37 Pasztori Anna, pensioner, Turcheș village. 38 Geczi Gellert, Turcheș village.


Figure 18. Sipos family dressed in festive garments, in front of the Lutheran Evangelical church in Turcheș village

Figure 19. Csángós dressed in folk costumes, waiting for the priest in front of the church

people in the Land of Barsa show mixed influences from the Saxons, the Mocans and the Csángós of Săcele, as result of their long cohabitation. We believe that, while, for example, Csángós’ traditional dance “borița” shows some similarities with the Romanian dance “călușarul” and with other Balkan dances, the traditional clothing of

the Lutheran Csángós looks more like the folk costumes worn by the Transylvanian Saxons, under whose political and religious influence the Csángós were for a long time. Most of the original Csángó garments have been lost for good, given that the dead were, by custom, buried dressed in folk costumes.

Customs Among the few old customs that today’s Csángós can remember, the “Boriţa” or “dansul borițașilor” dance, which was danced at end of December, is the most frequently mentioned. Dressed in white shirts and wearing two leather straps, decorated with buttons and crossed on their shoulders, black trousers, black waistcoat, long boots (leather sandals, in the past) and bells tied on their thighs, with heads covered with sheepskin hats adorned with multicolored ribbons, the “borita” dancers were celebrating through their dance the start of a new nature cycle. The dancers held in their right hand the so called “borițe” (fir tree, in the Slavic language), which symbolized the tree of life and of endless fertility, except for four lads in the group, called “nunți” (or “kuka”), who wore masks and pantomimed the dance; the most pathetic of the mimes was “sacrificed” and then resuscitated, signifying the continuous rebirth of seasons, nature and life. Kovacs Lehel says the roots of this custom are very old and go back to ancient Central Asia. Romulus Vuia argues that the Romanian influence in the case of this dance is noticeable mainly in the way the dancers are dressed and that their costume and the dance itself are a variant of the Romanian “Căluș” dance.39 39 Sipos Istvan, pensioner, Satulung.

Figure 20. The “Borița” dance – the older version

Also on Easter, as Sipos Istvan remembers, the men took their children with them to perform the “sprinkling” ritual. The custom was that the children, accompanied by their parents (especially by their fathers), paid a visit to their relatives. Once at their relatives’ house, the children recited a poem about the Easter bunny and then sprinkled all the women in the house with perfume. After that, the hosts gave the children small sums of money, chocolate bars or cakes, and a glass of 27


References Bakó Géza, „Contributions to the issue of ceangăi origin”, Studii și articole de istorie 4 (1962). Dumitru Mărtinaș, The origin of ceangăi from Moldova, Bucharest, 1985. Györffi Istvan, A molduai csangar, Budapest, 1917. Săcele Municipality, Tourism guide, 2011. Săcele Municipality, Săcele Album, 2014. N. Iorga, The privileges of șangăi from Târgu Ocna, Vălenii de Munte, 1910. Figure 21. The “Borița” dance – the newer version

brandy or wine to their father.40 St. Michael’s religious celebration is the day when the Csángós celebrate the foundation of the first church with this patron saint, built by them in the village of Cernatu. The locality was originally called Sfântul Mihail (Villa Sancti Michaelis), with first documentary attestation of the church dating back to 1427. Dressed in folk costumes and festive clothes, the Csángós march through the streets of Săcele, attend the church service, dance in the central square and organize fruit cake baking contests. * Despite historical controversies, social inequalities and differences of ethnicity or religion that have influenced the history of the inhabitants of the Land of Barsa, the Csángós in the villages of Săcele today are nice people, who go about their every day business, showing a genuine interest in strengthening their community and preserving their cultural and spiritual values. They cohabitate in harmony with the Romanians, without bursts of false nationalism. Accounting for 20.16% of the local population in 2011, of which 12.55% are of the Reformed Confession41, the Hungarian minority in Săcele tries to make itself socially and culturally known to the word. The Csángós of Barsa Association, founded in 1990, has been supporting this objective all along, by promoting the Hungarian education and the preservation of traditions, customs and the way of life of the Csángós in the region, even though the limited financial resources needed to support this goal have so far put the Foundation’s capacity to meet its objectives to a difficult test. 40 See Ethnography and folklore studies, Bucharest, 1975. 41 The National Institute of Statistics in Romania, July, 2013.

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Petru Râmneamțu, The issue of Romanians’ iradiation from Transylvania the Romanian Principalities, Cluj, 1946. R. Manolescu, Wallachia and Moldova Trade with Brașov (14th-16th Cent.), Bucharest, 1965. Romulus Vuia, Ethnography and Folklore Studies, Bucharest, 1975. Somesan Maria, The beginnings of the Romanian Church United with Rome, Bucharest, 1999. Ștefan Csapu, The origin of ceangăi and their settlement in Sacele villages, în revista „Plaiuri Săcelene”, nr. 81, Brașov, 2014. Țara Bârsei, Academiei Române Publishing House (coord. N. Dunăre), vol. I, Bucharest, 1972. Respondents Balint Magda, 86, Turcheș. Barko Etelka, 81, Baciu. Csaby Istvan, pensioner, Satulung. Csukas Karoly, wood craftsman, Satulung. Czimbor Izabella, 51, Baciu. Daneș Cornelia, Cernatu. Dombi Eniko, macramé artisan, Cernatu. Geczi Gelert, Baciu. Godri Anna, artisan, egg speckle-painting, Cernatu. Goța Ștefan, 71, Satulung. Korodi Levente, priest, Turcheș. Kovacs Lehel, teacher, Cernatu. Pasztori Anna, pensioner, Turcheș. Sipos Istvan, artisan jeweller, Satulung. Stela Picioruș, 94, Satulung. Szasz Agnes, pensioner, Turcheș. Veres Emese, 51, Baciu. Florian Dumitrache “Dimitrie Gusti” National Village Museum florian_dumitrache30@yahoo.com


Figure 1. Petroșani in 1898 (postcard)

The Communities of Jiu River Valley: Strategies, Narratives and Identity Museums ABSTRACT The rapid increase in population of Valea Jiului after 1840 has caused tense relations between the natives (the Romanian peasants) and the new-comers (the foreign miners). The city dwellers were called “barabe” or “venituri” by the shepherds, and the shepherds were called “momârlani” by the city inhabitants. In order to preserve their identity properly, the groups have organized themselves in relatively closed communities, having their own culture, but this did not stop them from sharing a common history and culture. The strategies that the shepherd communities use to affirm their identity include enhancing the value of the cultural heritage (architecture, costume, customs, lifestyle, traditions), while the city dwellers enhance the value of the mining history and the prosperity that this has brought to the area. The Mineriads from the `90 have affected Valea Jiului’s image at a national level. Currently, the mines are closing one by one, increasing poverty and depopulation and turning an area rich in natural and cultural resources into a marginal one. Maybe this is why the social actors from Valea Jiului, no matter the community they belong to, are now acting free-willingly, but constantly and on multiple ways (mass-media, internet, by enhancing the local cultural heritage) to build a positive identity for Valea Jiului. One important type of action is the use of narrative constitution of identity. Another way is the organization of local ethnographic museums. Key-words: identity narratives, local ethnographic museum, the narrative constitution of identity, cultural heritage, museum of society 29


Research Background What most Romanians know about the Jiu Valley Depression, surrounded by the Șureanu, Parâng, Vâlcan and Retezat Mountains, with about 120,000 inhabitants today, most is that it is a beautiful region for tourists to visit and a coal mining area, whose economic importance has been declining in recent years, and the cradle of the mineriads that overshadowed the history of the 1990s. But the Jiu Valley is more than that: the region is populated by rural communities, whose traditional culture is still well-preserved, which have evolved alongside multiethnic and multicultural mining communities, whose interactions with one another have helped them to better define their own identity during more than 160 years of shared history. The harsh living conditions have made of the Jiu Valley a sparsely populated area up until the nineteenth century. Archeological discoveries in the Jiu Valley (Dacian and Roman coins, from the days of Emperors Hadrian, Constantine the Great, Constantius and Julian, an iron lantern dating back from the VII-VIII1 centuries) prove that the ancient inhabitants of Dacia continued to live in the region after Emperor Aurelian’s Retreat in 276 AD. Along with the Transylvanian principalities, the Jiu Valley was also included in the Hungarian Kingdom in the period between the eleventh and the twelfth century. After 1691 and until 1918, Transylvania belonged to the Hungarian part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire. In the fifteenth century, Cândea family, who later took the name of Kendeffy, lived and owned estates in the Jiu Valley, given that, in 1438, their donations were acknowledged by a diploma granted by King Sigismund.2 Another document, dating back to the year 1493, mentioned a “Romanian tax” (oláh adó) the Romanian shepherds in the Jiu Valley were obliged to pay to the local landlords.3 The noble families from Țara Hațegului sent serfs from the villages of Livadia, Valea Lupului, Paros, Râu Bărbat, Petros, Uric and Hobița to live on the estates in the Jiu Valley. Once there, the serfs set up the human settlements of Livezeni, Lupeni, Paroșeni, Bărbăteni, Petroșeni (Petroșani), Uricani and Hobiceni respectively.4 1 2 3 4

Stanca (1996), 14. Ibid., 31. Ibid., 34. Ibid., 41.

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The serfs were given plots of land to build their houses, a piece of agricultural land and grassland, being requested to give their landlords a share of their crops and of their livestock in exchange. Colonization happened slowly, with the names of these localities appearing mentioned for the first time in official documents as late as the eighteenth century. The serfs mingled peacefully with the small local population of shepherds, who were also of Romanian origin. After serfdom abolition in 1848, the former serfs became owners of the lands they redeemed from the Hațegan landowners. However, most of the lands continued to be still in the hands of the noblemen from Țara Hațegului, who leased them to the former colonizers.5 After 1840, the economic and ethnic situation of the Jiu Valley changed radically. Coal mines in the region captured the attention of the noblemen in the Austro-Hungarian Empire with an interest in coal mining. Surface pit coal mining started simultaneously at Petrosani, Petrila and Vulcan coal mines. In 1845, the region witnesses the first large inflow of foreign miners coming from all over the Empire (Polish, Hungarian, Slovak, German, Austrian, Croatian, Romanian miners and their families). In 1857, Petroşani commune had already about 850 inhabitants. The Petroşani-Simeria railway was built (between 1867 and 1870) and coal mining started growing steadily. While in 1868 the Mines and Furnace Society in Brasov (“Societatea Brașoveană”) had no more than 65 workers, in 1870 it reached 300 workers, who arrived in the region with their families. Thus, Petroşani became the core of the mining region (around 1890).6 (Figure 1) Foreign miners’ immigration to the Jiu Valley generated tense relations between the natives (the Romanian peasants) and the newcomers (the foreign miners). Due to ethnic, lifestyle, cultural, civilization and language differences between the two communities, the first generations of foreign miners were hardly accepted by locals. Moreover, abusive expropriations by mining companies for mining development purposes widened the difference between the two types of human settlements. Spatial polarization favored, right from the start, the emergence of two distinct communities, which chose 5 Ibid., 48. 6 Ibid., 55.


to live separately from each other: the peasants, who lived in villages scattered on the highlands, breeding farm animals; from an ethnic point of view, the peasants were a homogeneous group of native Romanians. Mining companies, on the other hand, cramped the miners’ households down in the valleys, setting up miners’ colonies. Soon, the gap between these two communities took the form of nicknames: the locals started to call the miners “barabe” or “vinituri”, while the miners called the shepherds “momârlani”. At the beginning, the community of “barabe” was mostly made up of miners of various ethnicities. Later on, the community grew constantly, following the coming into the area of wood choppers, carpenters, merchants, teachers, public servants, doctors etc. Even though the community of barabe comprised and still comprises today some smaller groupings, gathered together based on their ethnic origin (Hungarians, Poles, Czechs, Jews, in addition to Romanians coming from Moldavia, Oltenia Maramures etc.), “momârlanii” have constantly regarded them as a homogeneous group. The rural vs urban separation could not influence the identity construction either: the “momarlan” continued to

be called momarlan and the barabe continued to be called barabe, regardless of the village or the town they lived in. That is why we will treat them here as two distinct communities, leaving aside their inner segmentation into smaller groupings. However, historical, social and economic conditions have gradually forced the two communities to interact and share a common history. ”Momârlanii” and „barabele” have engaged into elaborate relationships with one another, fact that has influenced to a great extent the construction of their identity, to the point where strategies and cultural responses have been generated, whose traces are present even today. For example, the”momarlans”, who had lived in relatively closed communities until 30 years ago, have strongly asserted their love for their traditional heritage, making it into their personal identity trait. As a relatively recent consequence, private “museums” have appeared in the Jiu Valley, which are, in fact, collections of ethnographic objects belonging to the momarlans and reflecting the local culture of their last one hundred years. The way the relationships between momarlans and barabe have evolved and their cultural consequences is the topic of this essay.

Theoretical Clarifications A group is defined in relation to itself and to others. Intercommunity relationships reflect identity constructions and how each community sees the other communities. In turn, these intercommunity relationships are mirrored by the narratives through which identity constructions are updated, occupying a significant place in their themes. To analyze the way collective identities in the Jiu Valley have been constructed, we will examine several narrative identities of the communities involved, from the point of view of the relational setting approach proposed by Margaret R. Somers.

identities (however multiple and changing) by locating themselves or being located within a repertoire of invented stories; that “experience” is constituted through narratives; that people make sense of what has happened and is happening to them by attempting to assemble or in some way to integrate these happenings within one or more narratives; and that people are guided to act in certain ways, and not others, on the basis of the projections, expectations, and memories derived from a multiplicity but ultimately limited repertoire of available social, public, and cultural narratives.”8

Redefining the concept of narrativity in the context of sociology, Margaret R. Somers argues that “it is through narrativity that we come to know, to understand, to make sense of the social world, and it is through narratives and narrativity that we constitute our social identities.”7. According to Somers “social life is itself storied and that narrative is an ontological condition of social life. Their (scholars’ o.n.) research is showing us that stories guide action; that people construct

The American scholar differentiates four different dimensions of narratives, two of which interfere with identity construction: the ontological narratives and the public narratives. Ontological narratives are the stories that social actors use to make sense of - indeed, to act in - their lives. Ontological narratives are used to define who we are. People act or do not act in part according to how they understand their place in any number of given narratives – however fragmented, contradictory, or partial. Ontological narratives are, above all, social and interpersonal. Although psychologists are typically

7 Somers (1994), 606.

8 Ibid., 614.

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biased toward the individual sources of narrative, even they recognize the degree to which ontological narratives can only exist interpersonally in the course of social and structural interactions over time. To be sure, agents adjust stories to fit their own identities, and, conversely, they will tailor “reality” to fit their stories.9 Public narratives are those narratives attached to cultural and institutional formations larger than the single individual. Public narratives range from the narratives of one’s family, to those of the workplace (organizational myths), church etc.10 Narratives are mediated through the enormous spectrum of social and political institutions and practices that constitute our social world. People’s experiences as workers, for example, are inextricably interconnected with the larger matrix of relations that shaped their lives, their regional location, the practical workings of the legal system, family patterns - as well as the particular stories (gender, local community, ethnicity etc.) used to account for the events happening to them. That is why the author proposes substituting the term “society” by the term “relational setting”. A relational setting is a pattern of relationships among institutions,

public narratives and social practices. As such it is a relational matrix, a social network. Identity-formation takes shape within these relational settings of contested but patterned relations among narratives, people and institutions.”11 Yet social actors are not free to fabricate narratives at will: each group of people has a limited repertoire of available representations and stories. Hence, the importance of constructing new public narratives and symbolic representations that do not continue the long tradition. Writing counter-narratives is a crucial strategy when one’s identity is not expressed in the dominant public ones. It is not surprising then that the narratives of excluded voices reveal “alternative values” since narratives “articulate social realities not seen by those who live at ease in a world of privilege.”12 The existence of this strategy can be proven in the case of the “momârlani”, who have invented and are spreading around numerous identity narratives by which they try to explain the names of “momarlani” and “barabe”. Momârlanii were a minority dominated by the large miners’ group ever since the settlement of the first colonies (given that miners were supported by mining companies and by state policy).

Methodology 9 10 11 12

Identity construction in the Jiu Valley began more than 160 years ago and continues to these days. To better understand the political, historical, economic and social background in which local communities were formed and how the names of “momarlani” and “barabe” appeared, I have studied reports, testimonies, documents, journals and interviews, which, fortunately, have been republished recently.13 The large number of historians, journalists, sociologists and teachers in the area, who has got involved, in the recent years, in the rediscovery of local history and heritage suggests 9 10 11 12 13

Ibid., 618 Ibid., 619. Ibid., 626. Ibid., 631. See in particular the documents, reports, documents and information extracted from archives and the periodicals of the times, republished in several volumes by Marian Boboc, a journalist from Petrosani, since 2006, and the site http://valeajiului.blogspot.ro, where the historians Dumitru-Ioan Puscas and Florin Mugurel upload documents, pictures, interviews, memories and historical data regarding, primarily, the coal mining, and secondary the life of momarlans. As far as the momarlans are concerned, several local ethnography books have been published in the last years, the most productive author being Dumitru GălăţanuJieţ, who has the advantage of knowing from the inside the customs he describes.

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the existence of some strategies (whether consciously applied or not) designed to reconstruct the identity of the Jiu Valley, severely affected by the miners’ revolts (the Mineriads) of the 1990s and 1991, in the current context of mine closures and economic depression, coupled with a decline in miners’ self-esteem. The information I have gathered from the documentary sources examined was compared and corroborated with the analysis of a series of narrative identities recorded through interview and participatory observations conducted over the period 2008-2017 under the research projects carried out at the National Folk Museum. Respondents were both momarlani and barabe. I chose to first of all collect identity narratives from the momarlans, perhaps because the first projects were dedicated specifically to their communities. As the research progressed, I have come to the conclusion that the identity narratives I have personally recorded are known equally by momarlans and barabe and that, though they are certainly not the only ones, they are probably the most widespread.


The First Conflicts Driven by a keen sense of private ownership, passed on from their forefathers, the locals were unhappy with the quick urbanization and with the foreigners’ coming to settle down in their region, which is why the locals called the miners “aliens”, i.e. newcomers, as opposed to the “native villages”, which is how they still like to call themselves.14 The high speed of town development, the varied population and the different lifestyles, all contributed to the shepherds’ tendency to keep their distance from the foreigners and to get into as little contact with them as possible. Yet, the distance between the two communities was soon to turn into conflict. First, there was an economic conflict with the coal mining companies and then with the Hungarian authorities. The first mining companies in the Jiu Valley, which were owned by imperial noble families and were mainly run by Hungarian and German engineers, bought land for coal exploitation from the nobility owing lands there, as well as from the free peasants. Documents from those times speak about peasants’ lands being purchased for peanuts and their grasslands being requisitioned by force with the help of gendarmes and brokerage companies. Mining companies deprived villagers of their forest lands, to get the timber the companies needed for their coal mines, and gradually expropriated villagers of the highland plots. In the span of only ten years, the peasants found themselves confined to the small pieces of land around their households on the hillsides.15 As mining business grew faster and faster, the Hungarian state enacted a law stipulating that lands could be expropriated for very small prices. In 1868 the state itself started to exploit the coal in the Jiu Valley. To do that, the state needed free land to build mine workers’ colonies, so it made a purchase offer to peasant landowners from Petrosani, who declined it. As a result, the state approved the forced expropriation of the lands in question and the Mining Society settled abusively on the expropriated lands, leaving the peasants no other choice than to agree to sell their lands for the price set by the state.16 Momarlan peasants were left with only enough hayfields and forests to cover their every day living needs. Therefore, they eventually got impoverished by abusive expropriations. For example, in an interview 14 Gălățanu-Jieț (2005), 14. 15 Stanca (1996), 56. 16 Ibid., 60.

taken 1928 by an anonymous journalist17, to a 70-year old momarlan from B., Pătru Vasilie, the villager was denouncing the abuses of those times, explaining how mine company executives were often expropriating the peasants for what they claimed to be the interest of the mines, while, in fact, the executives misappropriated the lands in their interest only to sell the hay harvests back to the expropriated people who, obviously, were getting short of the hay they needed to feed their farm animals. At the same time, the interviewed man was complaining that mine leaders were bringing in foreigners to work at the mines, instead of hiring the natives to compensate them for land expropriations, and blamed it all on ethnic identity: “the mine manager himself is a foreigner, that’s why he favors his own people. And when he does not find any of his people in Ardeal, he brings them with a passport from across the border, from Hungary or from Germany, leaving us no chance to earn our living.”18 The momarlans compared their harsh living conditions to that of the miners, which seemed thriving, in contrast. The miners were given houses and low-priced food, while momarlans were deprived of the lands they needed to survive. The same villager, Pătru Vasilie, tells the interviewer: “You see, we, Romanians, didn’t get any job at Werk, because the company leaders used to bring in and hire only Szeklers from outside Transylvania, letting them live in nice houses made of stones and providing them with plenty of ham and bread at very small prices [...]. While we, Romanians, the rightful owners of the local lands [...] were forced to live from hand to mouth. We had to work as hard and as much as we could, for peanuts…”19 It is not surprising that eventually the injustices and abuses suffered by the locals kindled their hatred against the barabes. And the old feelings of frustration are still lingering in the hearts of the oldest of the momarlans, who are even now complaining about how miners stole their lands: “They still hold a grudge against mines, mainly the momarlans who have survived to these days and who keep saying things like “that damn mine, it stole our lands!” So, you see, they can’t let go of the past, not even after all this time…”20 17 „Talking to a peasant from Jiu River Valley”, Avântul (1928), apud Boboc (2017), 179-195. 18 Ibid., 184. 19 Ibid., 181. 20 Interview with I. A., a barabă, Câmpu lui Neag, 2017.

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Amid the rising social tensions, an ethnic conflict inevitably broke out between the native Romanians and the newcomers (mostly foreigners). Peasants and miners did not speak the same language and, as such, they could not understand one another for many decades on end. Generally, the momarlans did not get to learn a foreign language, not even the Hungarian language, which was the language of the administration until 1918. As it happened in different other parts of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the fact that the natives could not or rather did not want to speak the official language was not a sign of intellectual inability, but a strategy for the natives to survive and preserve their identity through hard times. The religious conflict as well shows how tense the relationship between peasants and miners was. Momarlans had been Orthodox for a long time. However, the pressures exercised by the imperial administration in the 18th century and in early nineteenth century forced the momarlans living on the western bank of the Jiu River to convert to the Greek Catholic religion. The communities on the Eastern bank of the river however chose to stick to the Orthodox religion, supported, presumably, by the monks at the Lainici Monastery, located on the Jiu Valley. Among the barabes, the Romanian miners were mostly Orthodox, whereas the other ethnics were of different other religions: Catholic, Reformed, Evangelical, Unitarian etc. None of the religious cults had its church, because Hungary did not encourage the construction of churches. People used to pray in chapels improvised in their homes or inside administrative buildings. The mining companies eventually donated money for the building of churches and the first churches were erected after the year 1860: the Lutheran church in 1892; the Roman Catholic Church in 1887; in 1888, the Reformed Church. The Unitarians, who were fewer in number, built their first church in 1909. The Greek Catholic Church was built in Petroşani in 1871, having as its first churchgoers the Romanian miners coming to the area from different regions of the country. All the united Romanian workers gathered around the united priest and, with help of the Mining Society, manage to finish the building of the United Romanian Church in 1888. The Orthodox in Petrosani remained without a priest in 1870. It was not until 1876 that the priest Avram Stanca managed to organize the Orthodox believers and, with great efforts and with no help from the State or the 34

Mines Society, he succeeded to build a new church in 1900.21 Once the construction of churches started, the conflict broke out, but not among religions, but between the momarlans and the barabes. When the momarlans took up building the Orthodox Church in Petrosani, the Orthodox Romanian miners offered to help them, but the momarlans declined their help violently. As a result, the old wooden church was maintained in service for the barabes. The same thing happened in the town of Lupeni upon the building of Greek-Catholic church. It seems that in this latter case the united church bishop Vasile Hossu intervened and urged the united locals to accept the help of miners of the same religion. The event is recounted by the Greek-Catholic priest, N. Brânzeu.22 The mayor of the town of Lupeni explains in an interview to journalist I T. Munteanu, in 1929, how Romanians, being pretty unaware of the differences among religions, used to resort to the nearest priest, whether orthodox or Greek Catholic; the only thing that mattered to them was that the priest was Romanian.23 After 1918, the Romanian administration started to implement a policy meant to mitigate conflicts, leaving the Hungarian and the German executives and public servants in office, in spite of the fact that many Romanian miners were unhappy with the arrangement. The administration’s reasons for doing that were both practical – the lack of Romanian specialists – and political, as the country needed peace to start its recovery in the aftermath of the WWI and after Transylvania’s union with Romania.24 A positive effect of this policy was the increased number of momarlans being hired by the mines. At first, momarlans were employed to carry out auxiliary works, such as construction works on the colony site, transportation by carriage towed by farm animals. Of course, they were paid less than the miners, but enjoyed more freedom and had access to low-priced food. In summer, the momarlans left the 21 Ibid., 67-68. 22 N. Brânzeu, Povestea Văii Jiului de dr. Nicolae Brânzeu, prepozit capitular, first published in Gazeta Jiului in 1926, and later in Avântul, reverential issue, 1938, apud Boboc (2017), p. 69-95. 23 Journalist I. T. Munteanu conducted an investigation in the Jiu Valley following an incident: a group of miners killed a gendarmerie officer on January 5, 1929. He publishes the results of the investigation in the sequel, under the name În ținutul diamantului negru (In the Black Diamond Land, in the newspaper Ultima Oră, in January 1929. The text is included in Boboc (2017), 70-102. 24 ”Talking to a peasant from Jiu River Valley” (1928), apud Boboc (2017), 185.


mine to do their household chores: hay harvesting, animal grazing and wood chopping. Momarlans never gave up animal husbandry and working their lands. Mine work was a second job, a source of extra income. The momarlan women also contributed to the family’s income by selling dairy products, meat, eggs and berries to barabes, either directly or in the marketplace, a habit that has been maintained until today, when many townspeople have what they call “subscriptions” to the farm products sold to them by momarlan women. In the wake of the Second World War, the momarlans started to gradually engage in mining. In the town of

Uricani, the mine was opened in 1947. Among others, a skilled miner from the Lupeni mine was hired by the Uricani mine to train the mine workers. His name was Alexandru Zăpadă and he was a momarlan. Soon, he became a role model for many people in Uricani, as the first momarlan miner in Uricani, marking the change in the mentality of the momarlan community: from that point on, all momarlans would seek to have at least one miner in the family (father or son), to make sure they have a steady source of income, while the rest of the household members continued to breed sheep and cattle and live in the old traditional way.

The Miners’ Perspective Miners’ life was harsh: hard mining work, a lot of work accidents, mostly in the early decades, small salary, frequent labor conflicts with the mine leadership and the constant risk of layoffs. Therefore, miners got on strike. One of the strikes, the Lupeni miners’ strike of August 6, 1929, was bloody repressed. Under the circumstances and being constantly confronted with the imminent risk of death at the mine, miners of any ethnic origin, lifestyle, culture and language, eventually became very close to one another, especially those who were team co-workers. They started to help one another and often spent their free time together, going out on family picnicking, a habit that had been preserved until the 1989 Revolution: “In remember my father playing cards at our place, with his co-workers. Things weren’t the same anymore. Mine team was made of miners of all origins: Romanians, Hungarians, Oltenians, Moldavians and Germans ... The work down the mine was so hard that it didn’t matter anymore who was of what ethnicity, all differences faded away. Down there, in the mine pit, we had to stick together like a team, we were thrown out. That’s how things were going on in my times. Even if sometimes we got into a fight or two when at the surface, when we

were down there in the mine things had to go smoothly. And the fact that miners’ started socializing with one another outside work hours had a positive impact on their working relationships. When you hang out with someone every Sunday afternoon, a bond inevitably establishes between you and that person.”25 Most interviews of that time show that ethnic differences mattered very little to urban people. Mixed marriages were quite frequent at the time. Miners, too, held peasants in low regard, considering them “primitive”, “incapable to adapt themselves to the major industry the miners were building”.26 Miners enjoyed the benefits of a civilized life. Even if they paid low wages, mining companies provided miners with fringe benefits: lower-priced food, solid houses made of brick on the miners’ compound, cultural centers, called “casinos”, fitted with a theater hall, a library and a showroom, as well as public baths, schools and places of worship. This explains, in part, why miners looked down on the shepherd peasants who, dressed as they were in their archaic, rough clothes, appeared to them as primitive human beings. And that kind of attitude towards the momarlans has survived to our days.

The Narratives of Identity The terms “momârlan” and “barabă” are considered by all inhabitants of the Jiu Valley to be the verbalization of the scorn the two communities felt for each other. The term appears as a regionalism in Transylvania and meant “a clodhopper, a simpleton; an epithet used by the lowlanders in the Jiu valley when referring to the

highlanders of Țara Hațegului”. 27 25 26

This meaning of this term does no longer appear in the Romanian Language Explanatory Dictionary (DEX), where the word momârlan is defined as follows: 25 Interview with G. N., a barabă, Petrila, 2017. 26 Interview with P. U., a barabă, Uricani, 2017. 27 Candrea (1931), 797.

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Momarlan1 (momârlane): 1. a mound of earth made by earthworms; 1. a bundle of straws or rags used as a border marking. Momarlan2 (momarlani): 1. fool, bad mannered, bumpkin; 2. the name of a folk dance. 28 It seems that the inhabitants of the Jiu Valley have noticed the omission from DEX of their identity name, fact that has stirred their interest in finding out where their name comes from. According to the Dictionary of Archaic Words and Regionalisms the word momarlan is a regionalism and means „highlander, a peasant from the mountains”, yet without specifying the exact whereabouts.29 It seems that, in ancient times, the momarlan shepherds used to make a kind of stone piles to mark the boundaries of their properties or to serve as guiding signings in finding their way up and down the mountains, called “momâi” or “momârle”. There are still such stone mounds on the Parâng Mountains. Today, the habit is lost. However, it is hard to believe that the miners, newly arrived in the area, had known anything about the specific landmarks of the locals. The word ”barabă” is missing from the DEX, I.A. Candrea dictionary and The Romanian Dictionary of Archaic Words and Regionalisms referred to above. Every community constructs a number of narrative identities to represent themselves in front of others and to satisfy their own need for self-esteem. The absence of reliable information about the origin of these words, coupled with shear curiosity and the frustration caused by the scarcity of documentary evidence available have prompted the locals to invent a large number of narrative identities, whereby they make more or less credible assumptions about the origin of their name, using all available sources of information, including dictionaries. It is not the reliability of the explanation or of the information that interests us here, but the very existence of these narratives, which are known by all the inhabitants of the Jiu Valley. It is worth specifying that the originators of these narratives are hard to establish; it might just as well be historians, ethnologists and various other scientists from the Jiu Valley, or the locals themselves. Fact is that, no matter who invented them, today these narrative identities are appropriated by all the locals, who speak about them often and in particular when they come in contact with outsiders. The press and 28 DEX, 647. 29 Bulgăr, Constantinescu-Dobridor (2000), 198.

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the Internet also promote the locals’ narrative identities by means of monographs and history papers. It is an “enigma” of the Jiu Valley, frequently brought to the attention of the public. And the fact that most of these narratives claim that the terms were invented by the communities when referring to each other is important and proves how strong their mutual influence on their identity construction was. Without claiming to have exhausted the rich local material, below is a presentation of the explanations I recorded during my own research in the region: between 2008 and 2017, I have recorded many narrative identities, many of which I later found in written sources. By the year 1926, nobody knew anymore where the terms “momarlani” and “barabe” came from. N. Brânzeu states that the word “barabă” does not come from the biblical name Barabas, but perhaps from the word “Bauarbeiter”, which means “construction worker”.30 Some say that the locals called the newcomers “barberi” from the German word “bahnarbeiter” = “railway worker.” The newcomers used to call the natives “maradványi” (“remains, remnants”, which meant, if interpreted in a romanticized key, “descendants of the Dacians and the Romans”). However, because the transformation from “maradványi” to “momarlani” is not linguistically credible, some assume that the natives must have heard the townspeople calling them maradványi and adapted the word to sound closer to the Romanian language phonetics. Others say the names were given to the local peasants by the Italians working in the region, who, presumably, thought that the native peasants looked very much like the inhabitants of Marmolada (a mountainous region in Italy): “No, the Magyars had been here before 1850, so “momârlan” does not come from the Hungarian “maradvány”. It comes from the name of the inhabitants of Marmolada, a region in northern Italy, and was given to the locals by the Italian workers, who, when seeing the locals, exclaimed «oh, they look like our Marmolans!», meaning like the Italian highlanders, wearing sheepskins and breeding sheep herds. And the Italians called them “mormârlani” or “marmolani”, meaning “natives” [...] “Jieni” is how all inhabitants of the Jiu Valley were called, but the word “momarlani” referred strictly to the native population. All the inhabitants of the Jiu Valley were called “jieni”, even those from Târgu Jiu, all of them were called “Jieni”, including those living downstream the Jiu River.”31 30 Brânzeu (1926), apud Boboc (2017), 73-74. 31 Interview with P. U., a barabă, Uricani, 2017.


Some others believe that the “aliens” who settled down in region resembled the natives with the scarecrows: “A «momârla» is a kind of scarecrow, used to keep away crows, wild animals and stuff like that. Yes, that’s what momârlan means and that’s why many [momârlans] hate it [to be called by this name].”32 It is also believed that “barabă” comes from the name of engineer Walter Barabek, Silesian of origin, who designed and built the railway. Another common explanation is that the name “barabă” comes from the word “barabulă”, a Moldavian regionalism for “potato,” meaning, derisively, “potato eaters”. Most narratives of identity suggest that the two names have a pejorative connotation and that this is the reason why they generated tensions between the two communities: “I think they were called like that because they were considered a little archaic, if not downright primitive, by the strangers who came here.”33 The large number of narratives and the way each narrator accepts or rejects one explanation or another prove not only how widely spread and popular the narratives are, but also the deep interest of the locals in legitimizing their nicknames, seen as part of their identity: “Indeed, Bahnarbeiter means railway worker, but I doubt that the term barabă originates from the Jiu Valley. Mitu Gălăţan from Petrila has talked to a man from the Apuseni Mountains and learnt that the word “barabă” was also known there and that it meant «villagers who left their homes to work on the mountains or in the forest.» I’ve also heard the term last year, when I travelled to Năsăud to attend to the Folk Costume Parade. There, was talking to a man from Liviu Rebreanu, a locality in Năsăud and, at some point, I told him “By the way, I’m a momârlan, not a barabă”. And he was like «Oh, I see, you mean you’re a mine worker!» «Do you know the meaning of this word?», I asked him. «Yes, he said, it means the people who came to Valea Jiului to work at the mines.» That’s what the word “barabă” means in Năsăud.”34 Another reason for the momarlans’ high interest in their narrative identities is the fact that their community has lived virtually unknown until recently and they are therefore well aware of their lack of visibility at national level. Jiu Valley had been represented, ever since the beginning of the coal mining industry, by miners and miners only, up until the violent demonstrations of Jiu 32 Interview with L. M., momarlan woman, Slătinioara, 2014. 33 Interview with P. U., barabă, Uricani, 2017. 34 Interview with I. A., barabă, Uricani, 2017.

Valley miners in Bucharest, during the 1990s (called Mineriads). Because for generations on end they have considered themselves a minority, the momarlans have developed identity strategies to make themselves recognized as a well-established group with an identity name. This is a clear example of how the need to legitimize one’s own identity increases in relation to others. A joke that is commonly known in the Valley is very relevant for that: the saying goes that one day a momarlan goes to Bucharest to sell his sheep cheese. Once at the marketplace, he hears a fellow marketer shouting “Come and buy my Sibian cheese! Come and buy my Sibian cheese! Another folk was inviting people to buy cheese from his own homeland. Seeing that, the momarlan starts to shout: «Common, come and buy Momarlan cheese!» At that point, an elegantly dressed gentleman goes to the momarlan and says to him: «Mister, don’t mind me asking, but, you see, I’ve travelled the world, but I’ve never heard of such thing as momarlan cheese. What kind of animal is that, the momarlan?» Narrative identities in the Jiu Valley are not a matter of name definitions only. Their scope is much larger than that. Another series highlights the profound cultural differences that separate communities today, which are stemming from their completely different lifestyles. Often this difference takes the form of disputes and sometimes even the form of mutual accusations. For example, the barabes claim the momarlans are incapable to appreciate urban culture and to support it when they are in executive positions: “The Local Council [of Petrila, a mining town] is dominated by them [momarlans], all of it, from local administration to the mayor hall, all is full of momarlans. They’re like an enclave, you can’t get through to them. And that’s not fair, you see, because it’s the barabes who generated the cultural values, and now it is the momarlans controlling and deciding on these values. And, boy, they’re so reluctant to culture! Give them a book to read and they’d react as if they were electrocuted!”35 The momarlans who are members of the Petrila local council are accused of supporting only the traditional culture by, for example, inviting only the Junii Petrileni folk dancers to perform at the various local cultural events. However, the townspeople use to characterize momarlans based on cultural criteria and the urban way of life, which, obviously, are in stark contrast with the traditional culture: “I’ve had momarlan co-workers and, trust me, 35 Interview with I. B., a barabă, Petrila, 2017.

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they’d never travel outside Petrila, not even once in their lifetime; they used to spend all their holidays up on the mountain, where they bred their cows and stuff like that. One of them went to the seaside once and when he saw the sea he was like «Wow, this is one hell of a pond!» We laughed out heads off when hearing that! No wonder they’re narrow-minded, when all they know is going to work and then back home!”36 We understand from the interview above that the momarlans’ approach to work was also disapproved by the town dwellers. Miners, like townspeople in general, normally work six to eight hours a day, so it is not surprising that they have difficulties in accepting a lifestyle that is dedicated entirely to livestock breeding and to working without weekends or holidays. That was also one of the reasons why marriages between barabes and momarlans were quite rare, because, once a member of the traditional momarlan household, the baraba man or woman had to accept to live the pastoral way of life of his/her spouse: “Mixed marriages have happened only in recent year. Some thirty years ago, it was rare for an outsider to become a member of the momarlan community. The outsider was expected to learn to dance the momarlan dances [traditional folk dances], to cook the momarlan kind of meal, and all that! Momarlans tell me that momarlan women are beautiful and ask me why I don’t marry one. And I say to them «Yeah, I know they’re good looking, but, you see, their parents expect their son-in-law to be able to handle their cow and sheep herds, and I’m not good at this kind of things!»”37 And even when the mixed marriage proves to be a long-lasting and happy one, the “outsiders” who join the momarlan community by marriage would still feel reticent to mingle with the rest of the community, a reticence which, in their view, comes from the fact that momarlans are unwilling to accept changes: “I’ve always regarded them as two distinct entities: the townspeople and the villagers. They [momarlans] are representing the archaic world, a closed universe an outsider can hardly penetrate into. I’ve been married with a momarlan woman for some years now, and I’ve always felt that [reticence], even if there are more mixed families today than in my time and momarlans seem to have grown accustomed to marrying outside their community, since they’ve started working at the mines. In fact, it’s the momarlans’ reluctance to change that explains why the mine management was unwilling to hire them from the start.”38 36 Interview with P. G., momârlan, Slătinioara, 2008. 37 Interview with I. B., barabă, Petrila, 2017. 38 Interview with P. U., a barabă, Uricani, 2017.

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The old mentality, which relies on inherited values, seems to be despised by the barabes: “They [the momarlans] perpetuate the old-fashioned mentality: they go like: this is my forefather’s way of life, so I’ll stick to it no matter what!”39 Consequently, it is not surprising that, although there are no open conflicts between the two cultural groups, another common theme in the series of narrative identities is the old animosity between them. For example, even if miners in general were appreciated for their solidarity, they were not truly willing to accept their “momarlan” coworkers as members of their team, while the momarlans were probably unwilling to integrate in the team either. For example, a respondent recounts: “it’s been there for ever, I mean this friction between the barabes and the momarlans, and the friction continued at the mine, too.”40 It is reported that even at the mine, during the Communist times, the momarlans managed to stay somewhat separate from the town miners; and not necessarily for reasons of identity, but rather for practical reasons: reportedly, momarlans used to arrange, through their relatives and friends and by offering “gifts” (lamb meat, sheep cheese), to be hired to do easier jobs at the mine, like signalmen, for instance, because they had to remain fit for their household work, when they went back home. In other words, town miners thought the momarlans “were coming to the mine to take a break from their house chores”.41 Apparently, this practice of the momarlans generated frustrations and disapproval among the other miners, which kept the animosity between the two communities alive. On the other hand, in their narratives, the shepherds are blaming townspeople for trespassing their property. Momarlans’ lands stretch over large areas and are not always fenced. Every momarlan knows the exact boundaries of his or her lands, but the barabes use to climb the mountain and pick fruits from trees, probably unaware that they are trespassing on momarlan’s private property. This state of fact is revealed by the following anecdotic narrative: “The saying goes that momarlans got mad when you happened to trespass their lands. One day, a momarlan goes out mowing his land. While he was mowing, he 39 Interview with G. N., a barabă, Petrila, 2017. 40 Interview with I. B., a barabă, Petrila, 2017. 41 Idem.


sees a Moldavian carrying a lap full of stolen plums. And the momarlan shouts “Hey, you, what’s that you’re carrying in your lap?” “Perje!”, answers the Moldavian [the Moldavian regionalism for “plums”]. “Ah, ok, you’re lucky you don’t carry “prune” (plums), else I’d have cut your head off!” That’s because, you see, there are many strangers, usually barabes, who come here, pick our fruits and off they go! And, yes, that pisses us, the momarlans, off!.42 The narrative has an anecdotal structure, in which the catch is that the momarlan does not know the meaning of the Moldovan regionalism „perjă” for the standard word „prună” (“plum”). However, the explanation given by the respondent at the end of her account reveals the identity function of the narrative. In Communist times, the informers of the secret police also contributed to the cold relationships between the momarlan miners and their co-workers. The momarlans were afraid to speak freely with their co-workers for fear that any one of them could be an informer and could report to the secret police that momarlans’ were sometimes stealthily slaughtering lambs for food, in times when farmers were forbidden to do that. A Momarlan miner recounts: “I go to the mine, one evening, and one of the higher-ups comes to me [...] and takes me aside, for a talk in private, he says. At the time, my mom had a calf and was planning to cut it [...] . And the boss goes like this «Don’t you happen to have a calf to slaughter? I’d like to buy it, you know, cause I need to do this and that with the meat…». And I say to him «No, I don’t have any calf. Besides, slaughtering farm animals is forbidden». He couldn’t fool me, so I didn’t fall in his trap… I sensed he was one of them [informers] and planned to expose me and make me come up with the calf and then have me locked up and beaten. He wanted to catch me off guard, you see? But God helped me out. Later, I discovered who the guy really was. One day I went to the forest to cut fir trees for Christmas [...] and there he was, as the officer on duty!”43 The fact that some of the mine executives had grown accustomed to receiving and even requesting bribes from momarlan miners worsened the relationships between the momarlans and the rest of the miners: “One of them [momarlans – o.n.] once told that he had sold his sheep herd, because he’d got sick of being forced by the mine executives to provide them with farm cheese, lamb meat etc.”44 42 Interview with L. M., a momârlan woman, Slătinioara, 2014. 43 Interview with P. G., a momârlan, Popi, 2017. 44 Interview with C. S., a barabă, Popi, 2017.

Identity Construction Issues The recounts presented above reveal the way the relations between momarlans and barabes have influenced the identity constructions of the two communities. One can notice that this essays has focused on momarlans so far, and that is because, during my field research, I have seen that, on the one hand, the momarlans are more concerned about their identity and their interactions with the barabes; on the other hand, the momarlans are fewer in number and are organized into homogeneous rural communities, which are real memory-communities where people know one another well (by their nicknames, surnames, descendants, ascendants and their address); and everyone knows that everybody in the community knows everything about him or her (a transparent society); all community members are in verbal contact with one another; all of them are also in a ritual contact.45 Indeed, closer relationships among community members also have a bearing on the identity construction. Moreover, as I have explained before, the momarlans have represented the “minority” voice for a long time in the Jiu Valley and they are now trying to overcome this inferiority. Of course, some amount of bias should be taken into consideration, too, given the way the field investigation was conducted; however, the number of narrative identities recorded was large enough to allow me draw up a few general conclusions. Leaving aside the way the two communities see each another, the question is how each community sees itself. But this idea is much to complex to be exhaustively dealt with in this article, so I will refer strictly to the community of momarlans. During their 160 years of common history shared with the barabes, the momarlans have resisted the pressure exerted on them by gathering together in rather closed communities, sticking to their traditional culture and living primarily from animal husbandry, as the only steady activity they could possibly engage in up on the steeply mountains and in harsh climate conditions and their only source of self-sustenance. Narratives from the Communist era are also revealing the attachment of the momarlans to their traditional way of life. The Communist period brought about major changes for the momarlans. The Communists expropriated the momarlans of most of their lands, 45 S. Golopenția (2001), 36-37.

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Figure 2. Momârlani and barabe at Nedeia Sânpetrului (Slătinioara, 2014)

opening up new mines, forcing the momarlans to move and live in apartment buildings. Some of the expropriated momarlans refused to live in blocks of flats, so they built new houses or moved their old house on the small piece of land they had been left with after expropriations. One such narrative is particularly touching. It describes how, when the mine in Câmpu lui Neag was opened, the whole village had to be displaced, even the cemetery, and how villagers refused to leave their homes.

Neag recounts how her father, a momarlan, was expropriated of his land, when the mine was opened in Câmpu lui Neag, and was forced to move and live in a collective building, which had no doors, no windows, no plumbing and no heating whatsoever. He [her father] mounted the doors and windows, deposited some of his belongings inside the apartment and left to live on a hut on his land, outside the village, where he could continue the animal husbandry tradition. There, he managed to build a proper house much later, against all odds.47 Others, however, were not as lucky as the man in the narrative above, so they had to eventually move to live in apartment buildings. But, after the 1989 Revolution, some of them managed, after many tribulations, to recover their lands and return to their old houses. Though they are aware that the ground beneath their old houses is unstable and that the houses might collapse at any time, they are determined to go on with their lives as before and breed their animals.

The state paid very little or no compensation at all to the displaced locals. A respondent from Câmpu lui

To momarlans, animal husbandry is not just a way of earning their living, because it takes a lot of hard work to breed sheep. It is not a simple matter of tradition either. It is more a matter of a work well done and a duly properly accomplished. A former momarlan miner, when asked why he continued breeding sheep while he also worked and got paid as a miner, he explains: “Well, it was a bit difficult [to be a miner and a sheep breeder]. Yes, I was paid by the mine, but, you know, breeding animals was so rewarding! Seeing the animals in your courtyard was so nice! When I had my sheep, my backyard was full of little lambs jumping around and my kids were playing with them, and it was all so wonderful; it’s a pity people don’t care about this kind of things anymore these days! [...] Do I like this kind of life? [...]. Of course I do! I’ve told my son «Listen to me, son, if you ask your child to do some work around the house, don’t forget to reward him. You shouldn’t deprive the child of the satisfaction of his work, else the child starts hating looking after the cows, sheep and all that, and he’ll even hate looking at them! And I keep telling my son «Listen, if you want to make your child love the farm work, he must get to feel that love in his heart and enjoy what he does! » I’ve seen my uncles and my parents,

46 Interview with I. A. and P. U., barabe, Uricani, 2017.

47 Interview with V. M., a momârlan woman, Câmpu lui Neag, 2017.

– “[That] happened after the `80s. In `83 or `84. – “Is it true that the mayor himself got on the bulldozer, because the bulldozer driver refused to dig out the cemetery?” – Yes, it-s true. And not only on the bulldozer, but on a panzer, too, to determine the villagers to get out of their houses. But they refused to abandon their homes. – The communists started to take off the house roofs while people were still inside. – The villagers were forced to leave behind all they had, and that hurt their souls. They cried: “How dare you pulling down my house?” But, you know, the order was given by the high-and-mighty, so villagers had to be moved out and forced to live in apartment buildings [...] The cemetery was moved there, where the current church now stands. Everyone in the village had to come and pick them [their ancestors’ bones] up.”46

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they whistled happily while they worked on the farm! I remember myself wondering « Why are they so happy? » It was a cheerful world; they went out looking after the sheep first thing in the morning, even in the harsh winter weather, cleaning after them and feeding them on hay. And my folks were whistling lightheartedly and were cheerful while they did that [...].”48 Identities are constructed gradually. They are fluid and are constantly changing under the influence of social, economic and political conditions. While some facts, events, stereotypes, psychological reactions, representations etc. are preserved as such for a longer time by the collective memory and are shaping the identity construction, others are constantly changing in response to external pressures, and the whole process can be long and painful. In recent years, the economic recession witnessed by the Jiu Valley affected the momarlans as well. First of all, the population is aging and livestock husbandry is no longer a source of decent income. The momarlans breed less and less animals on their lands and mostly for their own household needs, because, due to the closure of the mines in the region, the miners’ purchasing power has declined and they can no longer afford to buy farm products from the momarlans. It is a fact that the prosperity of the townspeople has a direct influence on the peasant’s welfare. There are no milk, cheese, leather or wool collection centers, only a few companies that are involved in exporting such products and which purchase them for ridiculously low and discouraging prices. The only steady income sources for the momarlans are the state subsidies and, if they are former miners, their pensions. Because of that, the pastoral lifestyle is in danger, and so is the know-how this ancient occupation involves. While in the past parents ensured the continuity of the traditional animal husbandry occupation by teaching their children how to handle the household work and trained them in animal husbandry, nowadays children in the momarlan community simply refuse to stay back home and breed animals.49

animals. Besides, working at the mine was an attractive opportunity for the majority of the active population; as such, few people in the region chose to practice other trades, for which reason the traditional crafts and various other trades, which might have proven useful today, have disappeared with time: “There are no crafts, not anymore, craftsmen disappeared as the mining grew and, at some point in time, everyone around was engaged in coal mining. This way, they’ve gradually got used to earning easy money and have abandoned their traditions. Now, it’s hard to revive the old arts and crafts, cause there are no craftsmen to teach young people how to do this and that [...] We, momarlans, we had been shepherds for generations, before we started to work as miners and saw that we could earn an easy buck from mining work. Industrialization hit us like a ton of bricks, I tell you. It’s the industrialization that made us abandon our ancient way of life. We thought «why should we bother looking after sheep herds from dusk to dawn, up on the mountain, when we can simply go to work for eight hours down in the mine and then go to bed! » Industrialization disintegrated us as a traditional community; it caused this fracture between us and our past.”50 And yet, momarlans aged 60 and over still hope that things will change for the better. And that is proven by the way they still strive to breed their animals in the old fashioned way and by their stubborn refusal to sell their lands, despite the fact that their children have long established themselves in distant cities, far from their homeland. A momarlan explains: “No man in his right mind should sell his land [...] the world out there is in turmoil. You never know… anything bad can happen any time, and if you don’t have a safe place to turn to, then what? [...] I’ve met a man from Cimpa. He owned so many plots of land, that he lost count. He told me he had harvested twelve haystacks from one single plot! He even owned an entire hill! And one day another fellow goes to that man and says to him «Listen, if you want to sell land, I’m ready to buy, cause I need to…”. But the wealthy land owner cut him short saying: “What?!? To sell my land? I sell no land, man, I buy land!»”51

Yet, for many momarlans, the new socio-economic conditions are not the only ones to blame for the present state of affairs. There are shepherds who still think that the mine, while it helped them thrive, did a great deal of harm to them, by providing them with an easier way to make money as an alternative to breeding

As a result of the changes brought about by the Communist era, when animal husbandry was left in the care of the adult villagers, the younger generation of momarlans has gradually started to interact more

48 Interview with P. G., a momarlan, Popi, 2017. 49 Interview with P. U., a barabă, Uricani, 2017.

50 Interview with V. C., a momârlan, Petroșani, 2014. 51 Interview with P. G., a momârlan, Popi, 2017.

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Figure 3. The Momarlan’s Museum: the wedding

and more with the other communities in the region, making friends and getting married outside their own community. Today, the older generation is no longer keen to see their children married to someone who is skilled in animal husbandry. Many momarlans live in apartment buildings today; there are more and more mixed marriages between momarlans and town dwellers, be they Romanians, Hungarians or members of other ethnic groups; the young people go to work abroad. A momarlan woman boasted with her four sons, saying: “they’re all doing very well in England; they have good jobs, nice houses and all the rest.”52 Even the names of “momarlan” and “barabă” are now used jokingly and have lost much of their offensive connotation, keeping the identity-related significance instead. However, the offensive connotation would resurface whenever a fight starts between a momarlan and a baraba. How do these changes influence the identity of the group? The momarlan is no longer the man who lives in the village breeding animals. But the way the collective identity of the momarlans evolves will be much clearly noticeable in the next few years. For the moment, what we can see is how the 50 to 60-year-old (and younger people as well) momarlans try to slow down the pace of change by promoting traditional momarlan customs and boosting their self-esteem. The festive folk gatherings on the Eastern Jiu River, which had disappeared by the 1989 Revolution, have been resumed; local Christmas customs are reviving. There are private folk museums and people restarted weaving traditional folk costumes, though if they would wear them on festive days only. Unfortunately, some reinvented customs (like sewing bees, milk measuring) are somehow still showing traces of the overly festive Cântarea României mass festival from the Communist epoch. 52 Interview with R. D., momârlan woman, Petroşani, 2017.

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Figure 4. The Momarlan’s Museum: the work

In 2015, I attended a “nedeia” (folk gathering) in the village of Jieţ. “Nedeia” is a traditional custom of the momarlan community: a celebration of the dead, held on Easter days, where the villagers gather together on the eastern bank of Jiu River to eat specific dishes, listen to local folk music and watching folk dances. On the western side of the Jiu River, this custom was once a single village party, with music and dance, but it has disappeared in recent years. I was warned not to use the word “momarlan”, because the locals take it personally and attach a vexatious mockery connotation to the word. The “barabe” may also attend the “nedeia”, because hospitality makes the law. The momarlans and the barabe are easy to differentiate from one another by the clothes they wear at the folk party. The momarlans come dressed in their traditional folk costume or carry at least one piece of their traditional garment: women wear a folk blouse (“ie”) or carry a hand-woven bag, while men wear hats and shepherd’s bats. The townspeople come dressed in elegant clothes. The local folk costume is an identity mark to momarlans and they use to say that wearing it is a sign of love for the momarlan culture. (Figure 2) Lately, in response to the recommendations of the European Union’s cultural policies, the mayoralties have resumed the momarlan customs, turning them into local festivals: the “Nedei” day, the town fair days etc., which is a good and a bad thing at the same time, because the townspeople do not feel represented by the grassroots culture of the momarlans and their feeling of discontent might rekindle old conflicts. And neither are the momarlans happy to see mayoralties taking control over their customs.


Identity Museums and Ethnographic Complex, of the “Livezeni 1” Parish (Petroşani), the “Forefathers’ Message” Ethnographic and Local History School Museum (in Uricani), the Momarlan’s Village Museum in Câmpu lui Neag, housed by the “Retezat” BB house. As one can see, there are plenty of private museums in a relatively small area, all of which have the purpose of displaying the traditional way of life of the peasants of the Jiu Valley. All these museums were assembled after the year 2000, although the collection of objects has started much earlier, in some cases. On the other hand, the Romanian Installer Museum was opened in 2016 in Petroșani, designed and made by the graphic artist Ion Barbu, who also rehabilitated the “I. D. Sârbu” Memorial House in Petrila; the artist opened also a museum, called the Mother’s Museum, in Petrila, and managed to recover the historic building that once accommodated the Petrila mine pumping station, where he set up the “Pompadou” Center. All these endeavors are part of a chain of cultural initiatives of great originality, which nevertheless go beyond the scope of this study. Even if, through his initiatives, Ion Barbu seeks to raise the cultural level of the inhabitants of Petrila, he does not necessarily do that via an identity perspective. In contrast, the ethnographic museums mentioned above may be considered the result of an identity promotion strategy, though this is not their only purpose. Figure 5. Traditional cross, with a vertical arm made of stone and a horizontal arm made of wood (“St. Varvara” Church)

Under the circumstances, the promotion of the traditional momarlan culture that is currently taking place in the Jiu Valley can be interpreted in a number of ways: a) as a strategy of the momarlan communities to highlight their own identity and make their voice heard louder at national level; b) as a response of tradition lovers from any community to the intensive process of globalization, now that the population is aging, the elderly die and the young people show little or no interest in preserving and passing over the traditional heritage; and c) as a resource for tourism development. Today, there are several so called “private museums” In the Jiu Valley, which are, in fact, collections of momarlan ethnographic objects: the Momarlan’s Museum (in the village of Slătinioara, Petroşani), the “St. Varvara” Church

When trying to define the private museums specified above, we should remember that, in France, after the Second World War, several types of museums appeared, whose activity was subject to community acceptance: eco-museums, museums of ethnology and folk art, technical and industrial museums, natural park museums, regional museums, memorial museums of history, site or outdoor museums and maritime museums, which were all generically called “society museums”. There have been permanent tensions between the museums of society and the classic art and history museums, run by the well-established museology rules. The former category of museums distinguishes itself from the classical museums by their being attached to a territory whose cultural expressions they bring to the fore. Their museology resorts, apart from the classical display of objects and documents, to various media and to inviting a wider participation of the inhabitants of the heritage community. A large number of these society museums would illustrate the 43


Figure 6. Museum-house, “St. Varvara” Church (interior)

natural environment by composing a picture revealing a territory and its landscape, a community and its ways of life. In other words, they evoke small rural or semi-rural communities of the pre-industrial era, which respected the natural environment and advocated the human values. Museology put into practice is based on the following four dimensions: the search for authenticity (the “genuine”) in its human and material dimension; the passion for the particular, including for the curious and the rare; the cult of historical patina; the attention paid to the detail as a revelator of a society that has vanished or is concealed by the modernity.53 These museums are created or reinvented around the concept of local identity and are of a particular importance to local culture, succeeding in highlighting lifestyles, habits, customs, cultural practices and knowledge and the relationship between the people and their territory, which are otherwise hardly visible to outsiders. In addition, they are a big opportunity for cultural tourism as an alternative tourist attraction, which, in addition to being less intrusive, facilitates a better and a more “genuine” contact with the local culture. The ethnographic museums in the Jiu Valley, as well as other museums from around the country (tens of such museums are already registered at the National Heritage Institute), fall within the scope of the “ society museum” definition. The first and largest of these museums is the Momarlan’s Museum, located in the village of Slătinioara, a suburb of the town of Petrosani, right on the tourist trail leading to Rusu Chalet, on the Parâng Mountain. The Momarlan Museum is the work of the married couple Lucretia Mălinesc and Petru Gălăţan, both momarlans, who, 53 Poulot (2009), 178.

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Figure 7. Museum-house , St. Varvara” Church (pițărăi flag)

seeing the rapid decline of the momarlan community and feeling sorry for the discarded or destroyed objects which once belonged to the world of their parents and to their childhood, have felt the need to collect and preserve them. To them, traditional objects represent the past, with all its significances and its values. In 2005, Lucretia Mălinesc and Petru Gălăţan inherited an old wooden house, built in the architectural style of the place and located in the courtyard of the house they live in. The old house belonged to an aunt, who begged the couple not to demolish her when she was dead, so they promised her to turn the old house into a museum. The two momarlans explain: “This house, here, was my aunt’s, who kept telling us « I’m sure you’ll pull down my house, when I’m dead [...] ». «No, we won’t! », I said to her, « We’ll turn it into a museum! » And my auntie laughed and said «What the hell is a museum? » « Well, a museum is…», and I explained to her what a museum was and she was like «Ok, then, fine with me, I like the idea!» and said «If you do that, I promise not to haunt this place when I’m dead, else, mind my words, I’ll come back from the grave to tease you! » Of course, she was joking, perhaps because she thought the museum idea was a joke, too!” (Lucretia Mălinesc) And the two spouses kept their promise. The house, made up of two rooms and a porch, now accommodates a large collection of folk artifacts, along with industrially manufactured objects, because Lucretia Mălinesc has preserved all the objects belonging to the old woman, from icons and images, to pieces of furniture, a radio, a pick-up and the old vinyl records the old woman used to keep by her bedside. Lucretia Mălinesc rummaged in the attic of her parent’s house and, searching for old objects. She then travelled through all the villages in the area, buying whatever interesting item she could find, from traditional costumes and fabrics to pottery, forks


Figure 8. The Ethnography and Local History School Museum “Forefather’s Message”

Figure 9. The Ethnography and Local History School Museum “Forefather’s Message”

and household tools made of iron. She also collected old banknotes and coins, images, documents and books. The criteria based on which the couple has compiled their collection were few and simple: the objects had to belong to the local culture and to be as old as possible. The central and most precious part of the collection consists of old traditional costumes, which took a great deal of effort to collect, as the couple say. Momarlans love their community customs, to which they attach a great deal of importance. The burial, the wedding, the community gatherings (neide) are attracting hundreds of participants. That is why Lucretia Mălinesc has chosen the wedding custom as the centerpiece of her exhibition, placing the bride and groom costumes in the middle of the showroom; next to them are the costumes of the godparents, of the in-laws and of the “callers”; then, the exhibition displays old festive costumes, because the elders are the next in line in the order of importance of the participants to the nuptial ceremony. Among the costumes for the adults, there are dolls dressed in the traditional costumes, representing the children who were also attending to the weddings. The exhibits also include items such as a nicely decorated wedding flask, snapshots from various village weddings, the decorated wedding bed and the bride’s dowry chest, full of textile objects: lepedeie cu ciptă (embroidered bed sheets) căpătâie (cushions), șterguri (towels), pricoițe, țeprag (gallons), pătureică (small blanket), plocad (flocculent wool blankets) and beautifully woven bags. The second room of the museum displays household tools: a loom, a spinning fork, a hemp shirt and kitchen utensils, which are tools used by the housewife. A shepherd’s bag and sheepfold items are objects in animal husbandry, the main trade of the momarlan community.

Figure 10. Momarlan Village Museum: first room

Figure 11. Momarlan Village Museum: second room

The two museum owners would like to turn their museum into a real eco-museum in the future, designed to reveal the miniaturized world of a momarlan village. “I’d like my museum to resemble the Village Museum, in Bucharest, displaying many households and the rest. You know, all the many local traditions, from birth and christening [... to funerals.” (Lucretia Mălinesc) (Figure 3, Figure 4) Next to the house they live in, the collectors have built a few small-size wooden houses, to accommodate the 45


tourists coming to visit the collection at ease and to taste specific local dishes. Thus, the cultural heritage of the momarlans is displayed, narrated, tasted, and offered to tourists, making it more visible. And the museum owners are proud of their traditional culture, which they consider insufficiently known and appreciated There is a real need for spaces dedicated to local culture in Petrosani and it seems that the private museum initiative is catchy. The priest Nicolae-Octavian Patrascu of the “Livezeni 1” Parish has organized the “St. Varvara” Church and Ethnographic Center, with the support of the town hall, by having a traditional house carried to and placed in the churchyard and a sheepfold built next to it. The “Livezeni 1” parish, located in a modest neighborhood of the town of Petroşani, jokingly called “Serpent’s Den”, because it was built in a muddy area, contradicts all the “separatist” discourses between the momarlans and the barabes. The parish covers also the momarlan households in the village of Livezeni, which was administratively included in the town of Petroşani a few years ago, and looks like a blessed place. Near the Orthodox Church, dedicated to St. Varvara, the miners’ patron saint, barabes and momarlans live in harmony and the traditional customs of each of the two communities are not misunderstood, but are treated with respect and encouraged by means of folk parties (nedei) and a small ethnographic museum. Some time ago, priest Nicolae-Octavian Pătraşcu built the wooden church, with the great efforts of the locals, most of whom were poor and unemployed, designed by the late Nichole Goga, a famous architect and builder of Maramureşan wooden churches. In 2001, the church was consecrated by Patriarch Teoctist. Priest Patrascu, born in Merişor, a village situated near the border with Tara Haţegului, decided to build a spiritual center next to the church, to meet the needs of the parishioners. He set up the Humanitarian and Ethnographic Association “Saint Varvara”, providing food to hundreds of people in need, weekly. Then he brought an old wooden house, mounted it in the church courtyard and made it into a museum house. He has organized the traditional folk parties every year on the premises. The folklore ensemble “Jienii Petroşanilor”, founded by Nela Mihalache, a Moldavian, passionate about the local traditions and a very determined woman, jointly with Rafila Drăgănescu, a momarlan women, also performs at these folk parties, dancing and singing folk dances and songs, inviting people to join in the circle dance, as 46

in the good old times. And people from the villages and towns from the Valley come to these folk gatherings and the number of those dressed in the old traditional folk costumes is increasing every year. The priests have also started to recover and preserve traditional objects, such as old cemetery crosses that people use to throw away. They also encourages locals to make the new crosses in the old fashion way, with the vertical arm made of stone and the horizontal arm made of wood, as they appear in pictures dating back to 1900. The priests brought a traditional storehouse and arranged a small administrative space inside it. They built a bread oven, next to the administrative room, in the old traditional dwellings style (of which only two have survived, located in the Câmpu lui Neag village (Figure 5) There are many cultural projects and, even if priest Pătrăşcu passed away, the other priestly ministers, headed by the present-day parish priest Nicolae Tănase, carry them further: for example, they have built a carpenter’s shop, where they make furniture and objects in the local style. Retired miners are working as volunteers at this shop. The priests plan to build a wool weaving shop, to weave fabrics decorated with traditional patterns. They organize spiritual evenings for young people and children, creating a friendly atmosphere that has encouraged parishioners to participate in large numbers and to support the priest’s initiative. Parishioners also help by donating old objects to the museum and they are happy to see their contribution is valued (Figure 6, Figure 7) The priest Patrascu has conceived his cultural project as a long-term endeavor. When he planned to set up the ethnographic museum he took into account the future development of the area as a tourist attraction and mainly as a ski resort (Straja ski slopes). His idea was to give tourists the opportunity to discover the traditional local culture. The ethnographic museum point was designed as part of a wider cultural project, involving the sustainable development of the area through tourism and efficient use of resources. The museum plays mostly a symbolic role, representing the traditional local culture. Perhaps that is why no effort has been made to organize a modern ethnographic exhibition. Representativeness, and not creativity, was the key principle and, as such, the house-museum and its traditional rural annexes are organized by the classic museology rules, presenting the traditional momarlan household and the animal husbandry occupation of the momarlan community.


Yet, more important and with far-reaching effects on the parishioners’ community is the fact that their traditions and customs are promoted and preserved. Faced with the change in the mentality of the younger generation, the teachers from the Valley, too, felt the need to counteract the effects of globalization by focusing young people’s attention on their own cultural roots. The name of the school museum in Uricani, the Ethnography and Local History School Museum “The Forefathers’ Message” is revealing in this respect. However, the organizers of museum points have approached the cultural heritage of the momarlan community from the educational perspective, so that their ethnographic collections are primarily dedicated to serve various teaching purposes and needs. For example, the teacher and sociologist Petre Udrea, Oltenian of origin, and teacher Violeta Udrea, his momarlan wife, set up a museum point at the school in Uricani. The idea came to their mind as early as in 1978, when they started to collect folk old objects, involving the school children in their initiatives, explaining them the importance of the museum. They gathered with utmost dedication various genuine objects made by local craftsmen, mostly from the Uricani, yet their collection is representative of the entire area of the Western Jiu River. The collection includes fabrics, costumes, a loom and accessories, a hearth with căloni, the objects from a mountain hut (“căsoni”), iron and wood objects, old photos and documents, sheepskin flasks, a picture of Alexandru Zăpadă, the first momarlan miner etc. They repaired and rehabilitated the degraded objects, cleaned them and, in 2002, exhibited them in one of the classrooms of their school, following a personal exhibition concept. Their intention was “to show the children the archaic objects, the history of the place, which, like the shadow, follows us and which we cannot escape.” (Petre Udrea) Teachers use to take their pupils to the museum and teach their lessons in the exhibition room. They first provide the children with information about the folk costume and the old stove, talking them about the traditional architecture, household industry and about sheep breeding and how this essential occupation influenced the timing, the holidays, the weddings etc. of the momarlan community, ending their theoretical and practical presentation with information and data about famous local people.

And it is not only the children who learn things about the momarlan community, but also the museum organizers, Violeta and Petre Udrea, who, in order to be able to give the right explanations to the children, have studied the archives, the local history and ethnography and have talked to the old people, thus getting to acquire in-depth knowledge about the Urican area (Figure 8, Figure 9). The Momarlan Village Museum was originally a school collection. Inaugurated in Lupeni, in 2010, it was moved, in 2016, to the large courtyard of Retezat guest house, in Buta, near Câmpu lui Neag. The organizers of the museum are two primary school teachers from School Nr. 2 in Lupeni, Viorica and Ioan Holobuţ, now retired. They are not from the area, they were both born in Geamăna (Alba County), but they came to the region to work as teachers and stayed there. From their recount, it appears that the idea of making a local ethnographic museum came to their mind in 1980, after they had visited the museum set up by teacher Albu Pamfil, in Lupşa. Understanding the need to show school children how their ancestors once lived, Viorica and Ioan Holobut returned to Lupeni and decided to make such a museum point there as well. They gathered and refurbished hundreds of objects and exhibited them, between 2010 and 2014, in one of the rooms of the school, and continued their museum work until their retirement. They did not work alone, but with the help of the school children and their parents and with the help of their fellow-teachers. The ethnographic exhibition was very successful, and the fact that that absolutely all the children in Lupeni have visited it stands as a proof of that. Ion Holobut is always ready to give visitors explanations, to play the double-pipe he has brought from his home village, to tell stories about and to describe every traditional momarlan household item on display. In 2016, with the help of Emil Părău, a local businessman who has been supporting the cultural and sporting events in the region for many years, the Holobuț family managed to move the collection to a new house, built in the traditional local style, in the courtyard of a tourist boarding house. In two of the rooms of the new house and on the verandah the collectors have exhibited traditional household items (a loom, old furniture, urzoi, vârtelnițe, sucale, spindles, distaffs ), the inventory of the sheepfold, old photos, coins and stamps, books about the local area, 47


traditional fabrics and costumes and tools of all kinds. The bed, the chairs, the table and the stove are made according to the old tradition. The walls are covered with folk costumes and fabrics form various ethnographic areas, especially from Holobuț’s home village, because they are also beautiful and talk about tradition, as the collectors say. The museum organization is not over yet, with a sheepfold and the annexes of a local household being planned to be built in the near future.

Once moved to the new location, the Momarlan Village Museum has diversified its functions. Currently, the museum is part of a project of tourist attractions, centered around the “Retezat” boarding house, which includes a horse riding school, a swimming pool, a climbing wall, a tubing slope, horse-and-carriage rides, a playground, a tennis ground and much more. The “Retezat” boarding house follows a long-beaten, yet obviously successful tourist attraction track. (Figure 10, Figure 11)

Conclusions We may conclude that the momarlans and the barabes, although they chose, in the beginning, to live parallel lives from one another, have eventually found, during their 160 years of common history, a way to live together. The major historical events (wars, the Communism) have affected all of them, and so have recent events and economic changes. Nevertheless, when looking back, we can see that the confrontations between the two communities were rather beneficial, because it was only in relation to the barabe that the momarlans have found the strength to affirm their own identity; likewise, it was their contact with the momarlan’s culture that helped barabe community understand and appreciate the love for inherited values, that is specific to traditional societies, and the obstinacy with which the momarlans have defended their right to be themselves.

Candrea, I. A. 1931. „Dictionary of the Romanian Language of yesterday and today”, in The Illustrated Encyclopedic Dictionary ”Cartea Românească”. Bucharest: „Cartea Românească” S. A. Publishing House

References:

Stanca, S. 1996. Historical and Geographical Monography of Petroșeni locality from Jiu River Valley. Publishing House of the Cultural Foundation „Ion D. Sârbu”.

The Romanian Academy, ”Iorgu Iordan” Linguistics Institute (eds.). 1996. Romanian Language Explanatory Dictionary (DEX). 2nd edition. Bucharest: ”Univers Enciclopedic” Publishing House. Boboc, M. 2017. Jiu River Valley all inclusive. A library in a book, drafted by Marian Boboc. Vol. I-III. Craiova: MJM Publishing House Bulgăr, Gh., Constantinescu-Dobridor, Gh. 2000. Dictionary of archaic words and regionalisms. Bucharest: SAECULUM I.O. Publishing House

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Gălățan, D. 2005. Traditions and customs from the villages on the Eastern bank of Jiu River Valley. Petroșani: Focus Publishing House. Golopenția, S. 2001. Intermemory. Pragmatics and anthropology studies. Cluj-Napoca: Dacia Publishing House. Poulot, D., „Le patrimoine immatériel en France entre renouveau muséographique et «territoire du projet»”, Ethnologies, vol. 31, 1 (2009). Somers, M. R. „The narrative constitution of identity: A relational and network approach”, Theory & Society 23 (1994), p. 605-649. <http://hdl.handle. net/2027.42/43649 >

Ana Pascu Curator The Romanian Peasant Museum ana2ania@yahoo.com


NATIONAL ARCHITECTURAL IDENTITIES AT THE MUSEUM OF THE “ION MINCU” SCHOOL OF ARCHITECTURE AND URBAN PLANNING IN BUCHAREST

ABSTRACT National identity was developed, in the medieval Romanian states, by means of architecture. The succession of various architectural styles gives us an image of continuity and of cultural imports that have satisfied certain needs: the religious identity was expressed through a (neo)Byzantine style, the modern Romanian identity was expressed through (neo)classic and eclectic buildings and the identity of the United Romania was expressed by means of the neo-Romanian style. Thus the national architectural identity was re-created through a mix of old and new, of local and foreign traditions. Identity is not static, but it evolves in order to satisfy the ever changing needs of both culture and society. In the time of the Great Union the neo-Romanian style became an instrument of the State and this led to a misreading of the work of Ion Mincu, one of the founders of this style. Key-words: national identity, national style, Ion Mincu, The Museum of the “Ion Mincu” University of Architecture and Urban Planning in Bucharest 49


Figure 1a. Detail of the 1922 Jubilee Medal (left)1, b. Front view of the School of Architecture, published in the 1925 issue of the ”Arhitectura” Magazine2 Identity, like memory, is revisited depending on the needs.3 For example, from an architectural (as well as cultural) point of view, the Byzantine style played a very important role during the Ottoman domination, the Classicism led to the modernization of the Romanian state and the Neo-Romanian style contributed to asserting the identity of The Great Romania. Nowadays, caught as it is into the geopolitical gear, the Romanian culture exhibits a deep cleavage between modernization and traditionalism, which has been surviving since the 1984 Revolution times and reflecting, by and large, the passing of generations. 1 2 3 Questioning the fundament of the Romanian national identity and of the collective subjectivity4 is still a topic carefully avoided by curators. National identity can be subject of controversy, of real culture wars.5 This challenge is, in fact, an approach to the contemporary national identity amid a redefinition process in full swing. Seeing the wave of indignation spurred by Cărtărescu’s portrayal of Eminescu6 we could easily imagine what a challenge of this kind would generate in the world of museums, which are mostly statedependent institutions and expected to propose a “righteous” perspective on national identity. Local museums, alike the national ones, are responding to an identity crisis7 and to the growing interest in representations (mainly, visual) of the national culture. 1 *** The 25th anniversary of the Higher School of Architecture of Bucharest. Arhitectura, 1924, p. 34 2 ***. The 25th jubilee of the Higher School of Architecture of Bucharest. Arhitectura, 1925, p. 18 3 M. Berza, for example, describes three successive historical perspectives on the Curtea de Arges Episcopate. (Mihai Berza, For a History of the Ancient Romanian Culture. Eminescu: Bucharest, 1985, p. 41). 4 „Since he has become debatable [...], Eminescu is more vivid than ever to me. From an abstraction, he has turned into a man.” CezarPaul Bădescu. Dilema, Issue no. 265, 27 February - 5 March 1998. 5 Timothy W. Luke. Museum politics: power plays at the exhibition. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2002, p. 2. 6 Dilema Issue No. 265, 27 February - 5 March 1998 7 In the absence of significant collective rituals (other than football and politics), identity becomes a construct as ephemeral as advertising.

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The UAUIM Museum exhibits drawings and architectural details related to national identity and, through the building that hosts it, mirrors to national style. The reference to Eminescu is not accidental. Eminescu was for the Romanian literature what Ion Mincu was for the Romanian architecture. Both of them were bridges between the old and the modern Romanian culture. Mincu was the spiritual father of a school that today is named after him. The issue dedicated to Eminescu of the “Dilema” magazine was part of a wider debate on literary canon. Similarly, Mincu’s image is part of a wider discussion about national identity in architecture. UAUIM Museum does not address this issue directly, but by setting up a central area devoted to Mincu, thought of as the heart of the museum, it celebrates the cult for the national architecture created around architect Mincu after his death. This cult has marked the School of Architecture and its building, whose construction started in the year of Mincu’s death in 1912. The original building design was modified at the level of the central roof to make it as close as possible to the Neo-Romanian trend. Traditional materials and techniques were used to build the monumental facade facing the Enei Church Street. The Hall of Frescoes, decorated with paintings by Olga Greceanu, made in the national fashion, was designed as a core symbolic space. At first, the glyptotek (the ‘60s) and then the museum (the’ 80s) were thought to be the altars of the native architectural tradition. The glyptotek is a gallery of architectural models (molds and mockups) that serve as samples (of classical and of traditional Romanian architecture). The museum contains sketches and surveys of traditional architectural works related to both the neo-Romanian style and to the theoretical subjects taught by the school (history of architecture, restoration of monuments, publications etc.). The old UIAIM Museum was projecting a unitary, linear view on the national architectural identity. The current


Figure 1c. Photo from the School of Architecture’s Album. UAUIM museum legitimizes by its items and mostly by its context8, several views on the national identity. Architectural identity reflects the 80/20 principle and the lack of balance in nature9, the tendency of relatively few buildings (or exhibits) to be more influential (representative) than the most widespread ones (those belonging to the beaux-arts tradition or communist apartment buildings, for example). There are dominant variants of the national identity, such as the national style, but there are also complementary variants (traditional folk or cultivated architecture, beaux-arts architecture, modernism, regionalism etc.). The existence of the School of Architecture Museum was mentioned for the first time in Arhitectura magazine of 1916: “A pillar and a purlin from an old Vâlcean house are preserved at the Museum of the High School of Architecture.”10 The sketch made after the wooden parts concerned (still preserved by the museum) illustrates an item of the Romanian style.11 12 It is worth noting here that, although at a first glance Mincu’s Highroad Restaurant (Bufetul de la Șosea) seems to have been influenced by the Vâlcean folk architecture, at a closer look we may see that the building is in fact a reflection of the educated traditional architecture (a townsfolk’s house)13, to which the mentioned wooden parts belong.

Figure 2. Drawing illustrating a purlin, published in the “Arhitectura” magazine in 191612 in the post-Brâncoveanu era (characterized by the juxtaposition of traditional elements - Byzantine, folk, oriental – and classic-like elements or the transposition of the classical ornamental wood embossing).14 The imported architectural elements (Byzantine, Oriental, Balkan, Venetian, Moorish etc.), which, in the case of Mincu’s works, created that typically Romanian atmosphere, were criticized by the elite of the School of Architecture and by the leading representatives of the Neo-Romanian current, who attached a higher value to folk and church architectural elements, which in their view were suited for monumental renderings. The debate on a similar topic, i.e. the valuable vs the worthless, the pure vs the impure, had already taken place between Mincu and Ţzigara-Samurcaş, during the restoration of the Stavropoleos Church.15 We must agree with the MNAC manager that visual arts and architecture occupy a peripheral place in the Romanian culture, and so did they in Mincu’s time: “The modern cultural identity of this country was built on literature and music, while visual art is still playing a marginal role in the Romanian society.”16

What architect Mincu does is to reinterpret on a higher artistry level, the architectural mix between Classicism and the educated traditional architecture emerging

The linguistic unity, as a unity in diversity, which was achieved as late as in the communist era, following mass literacy, stands at the foundation of the national union. Similarly, the emergence of a typically national architectural language has been accompanied by the tendency to build on official (and religious) buildings

8 Museification is the opposite of the ritual; it takes objects out of the context, so that, when it comes to identity, the context is essential. 9 Richard Koch. The 80/20 Principle and 92 Other Power Laws of Nature. London, Boston: Nicholas Brealey Publishing, 2013. 10 ***. The Romanian Syle. Arhitectura, 1916, nr. 2, p. 33 11 Nicolae Lascu. The School of Architecture and the “Romanian Style” 1900-1915. Arhitectura, nr. 5, 1985, p. 37 12 ***. Romanian Style. Arhitectura, 1916, nr. 2, p. 33 13 Ruxandra Nemțeanu. The Neo-Romanesque Villa: the expression of the search for of an indigenous model in the individual urban dwelling. Bucharest: Simetria, 2014, p. 23 and Horia Dinulescu. Tradition and reference in Neo-Romanesque. Argument, nr. 1, 2009, p. 33.

14 Mihai Ispir. Classicism in the Romanian Art. Bucharest: Meridiane, 1984, pp. 50-57 15 Ion Mincu. Artistic Review - Stavropoleos. Answer to Mr. TzigaraSamurcaş. Epoca magazine, March 25, 1904, issue 83, p. 1: „Alteration of the “ pure Byzantine” style, regarded as a flaw by Țzigara, is, in out opinion, a real quality”. Mincu wanted a restoration of the current state of the church and a reconstruction of the initial state of the church, this multiple vision coming in contrast with the restorations envisaged by Lecomte de Nouy and others, who were trying to eliminate additions and were forced to “invent” the initial aspect of the buildings. 16 We Make Art, Not Politics. Interview Călin Dan – Karolina Plinta. Available online at: http://revistaarta.ro/ro/facem-arta-nu-politica/.

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Figure 3. “Bufetul de la Șosea” building, a pen drawing from the STUFO / Archives museum. across the entire territory of the country as a means of a consistent and centralized expression of national identity. Starting with the 1906 Exhibition, nationalstyle buildings have contributed to generating a sense of national belonging among people, which was then eroded by communism and, lately, by consumerism. The image of the Argeş Monastery, which enjoyed a widespread coverage in early twentieth century17, was filling the visual and historic gap the Romanian elite was sensing at the time, while on the other hand mirroring the chronic state of self-sufficiency. The consoling images of the Mediaeval past, rekindled by a later version of the national style (after 1906), were providing a comfortable distance from any extraneous (Oriental, Venetian or even modernist) interference. And the monumental building of the School of Architecture is itself an example of such an image.18 This distancing is also felt during the communist period. The alteration of the facade of the National Theater building or the demolition of historic buildings and churches were meant to protect what was the fragile identity of the “new type of man” from any contamination with “the extraneous”. During the communist era, the national history was taught by means of nostalgic images of the past (copies of Grigorescu’s paintings were hanging on the walls of almost all the hotel rooms, households were decorated with all kind of trinkets19 and the films made by Sergiu 17 The Argeş Monastery Church is the source of inspiration for Romania’s pavilions at the Universal Exhibitions of 1867, 1889 and 1900. Carmen Popescu, Ioana Teodorescu. Genius Loci. National et regional en architecture: entre histoire et pratique. Bucharest: Simetria, 2002, pp. 68-77.. 18 Note should be made the design of the School was initially different, as it appears illustrated in the 1922 jubilee medal, and that final construction hides its eclecticism and emphasizes its unitary trait, i.e. its “national” character.***. The 25th the 25th anniversary of the Higher School of Architecture of Bucharest. Arhitectura, 1924, p. 34. 19 A panoply of pseudo-objects, which is specific for a time of great social

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Nicolaescu or the Mărgelatu sequel has an escapist purpose). This way, a sense of nostalgia was emerging, which, though complementing one’s personal identity, was fatally leaving it incomplete20, The vague hankering after “the culture, the looks, the morals and the elegant marks of the upper class”21, epitomized by trinkets on display, could only be satisfied after the 1989 Revolution, leading a revival of the feeling of appreciation for the architecture of the nobles and of Neo-Romanian style, which were seen as ideal symbols of the upper class. The UAUIM Museum proposes a different relationship with the past than the nostalgic one: the complicity with the past. For foreign visitors in particular, the museum becomes a tool for them to understand national architecture. For local visitors, the museum unfolds a plethora of national identities (of which some are stronger, as for example the Central School for Girls or the Church of the Văcărești Monastery, while other are weaker, as it is the case of the first designs of the School of Architecture students). By incorporating elements salvaged from the communist demolitions (and a collection of molds), the UAUIM museum has managed to recreate the eclectic context of the Romanian national style, while also providing an insight into how the Little Paris looked like. The solid foundation the National School of Architecture was built upon consisted not only of the traditional Romanian architecture, but also and primarily of the neo-classical beaux-artistic architecture (which gave it a civilized European air). Architecture is a gift passed on from one generation to another, as a means to celebrate national identity. This gift comes with no obligation whatsoever (lest it should turn into a poisoned one) and without any prescriptive interpretation. This was in fact the premise the reorganization of the UAUIM Museum started from. Museum objects have been let to speak for themselves and mainly to one another. Obviously, original items would prevail over copies. And the specificity of the original exhibits is related to the specificity of the museum as such and of the tradition of the School it represents - a tradition that, at times, is mistaken for the search for a national identity through architecture.22 mobility: literacy and urbanization in the span of one generation. Jean Baudrillard. Consumer Society: Myths and Structures. Translated by Alexandru Matei. 2nd ed. Bucharest: Comunicare.ro, 2008, pp. 139-140. 20 Peter Stupples. Visual Culture, Synthetic Memory and the Construction of National Identity. Third Text. Vol. 17, Nr. 2, 2003, pp. 127-139 21 Jean Baudrillard. Op. cit., p. 141. 22 Owing to its perennial character, architecture is an important means of expressing national identity.


Final Considerations The architecture of the cathedrals built along generations and sometimes in successive styles is a good metaphor of national identity. On the Romanian territory, the modern, identity-relevant architecture is the result of a hybridization process and has preserved, up until the heyday of the neo-Romanian style, an inextricable link with the Middle Ages.23 National identity has often been inspired by foreign sources. Prince Neagoe Basarab, for example, had a Turkish cousin, Prince Constantin Brâncoveanu had strong connections with Venice and with the Byzantine Venetian community; architect Ion Mincu was educated at the Ecole des Beaux-Arts and was generally influenced by the Italian architecture and by the Venetian one, in particular. Some way or another, each of them capitalized on the past in a new keynote and opened new tracks for their followers and descendants. Ion Mincu demonstrated that a mix of classical inspiration, beaux-arts and indigenous elements was possible, and so were to demonstrate the generations of architects that followed in his wake. Modern national identity is a fluctuating experience (a “laboratory”24 rather than a “museum”): it changes constantly with the needs. There is no such thing as a static identity, even if politics, museums and out-ofcontext interpretations would argue otherwise. Identity is a ceaseless movement where, it is like a musical score where themes are abandoned only to be resumed in a different way later on. An articulation of the links amongst museum exhibits would enable visitors to experience the sense of national identity in a more flexible way and would provide a sufficiently diversified set of images for each visitor to appropriate whatever image would best fit his or her individual needs. In this essay I have tried to highlight the fluid nature of the national architectural identity by pointing out the interaction among some of the museum exhibits, though one should not lose sight of the crucial importance of their contextualization. References *** Architecture School Album. Call number II 3800, Library of U.A.U.I.M. 23 Reinterpreting the Romanian Middle Ages is not a mere historic exercise: it has had and will continue to have a significant impact on the construction of national identity. See also: Ian Wood. Barbarians, Historians and the Construction of National Identities. Journal of Late Antiquity. Vol. 1, Nr. 1, 2008, pp. 61-81 24 Curtea de la Argeș metropolitan cathedral “suggests the image of an eternal laboratory maintained by the constant need for representation of all generations of founders”. Ovidiu Boldura, Emanuela Cernea, Lucreția Pătrășcanu. Mărturii: frescele Mânăstirii Argeș. Bucharest: National Museum of Art of Romania, 2013, p. 17

*** The 25th anniversary of the Higher School of Architecture of Bucahrest. Arhitectura, 1924, p. 34. *** The 25th Jubilee of Higher School of Architecture of Bucharest. Arhitectura, 1925, pp. 18-19. *** The Romanian Style. Arhitectura, 1916, nr. 2, pp. 33-35. Baudrillard, Jean. Consumer Society: Myths and Structures. Translated by: Alexandru Matei. 2nd Ed. Bucharest: Comunicare.ro, 2008, pp. 139-140. Bădescu, Cezar-Paul. Dilema nr. 265, 27 febr. - 5 mart. 1998. Berza, Mihai. For A history of the Ancient Romanian Culture. Eminescu: Bucharest, 1985. Boldura, Ovidiu; Cernea, Emanuela; Pătrășcanu, Lucreția. Testimonies: the frescas of Argeș Monastery. Bucharest: National Museum of Art of Romania, 2013. Dan, Călin; Plinta, Karolina. We Make Art, Not Politics. Interview with Călin Dan – Karolina Plinta. http://revistaarta. ro/ro/facem-arta-nu-politica/ (10th September 2017). Dinulescu, Horia. Tradition and reference in Neo-Romanesque. Argument, nr. 1, 2009, pp. 22-38. Ispir, Mihai. Classicism in the Romanian Art. Bucharest: Meridiane, 1984. Koch, Richard. The 80/20 Principle and 92 Other Power Laws of Nature. London, Boston: Nicholas Brealey Publishing, 2013. Lascu, Nicolae. The School of Architecture and „Romanian Style” 1900-1915. Arhitectura, nr. 5, 1985, pp. 37-45. Luke, Timothy W. Museum politics: power plays at the exhibition. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 2002. Mincu, Ion. Artistic Review– Stavropoleos. Answer to Mr. Țzigara-Samurcaș. Epoca, 25th March 1904, nr. 83, pp. 1-2. Nemțeanu, Ruxandra. The Neo-Romanesque Villa: the expression of the search for of an indigenous model in the individual urban dwelling. Bucharest: Simetria, 2014. Popescu, Carmen; Teodorescu, Ioana. Genius Loci. National et regional en architecture: entre histoire et pratique. Bucharest: Simetria, 2002. Stupples, Peter. Visual Culture, Synthetic Memory and the Construction of National Identity. Third Text. Vol. 17, Nr. 2, 2003, pp. 127-139. Wood, Ian. Barbarians, Historians, and the Construction of National Identities. Journal of Late Antiquity. Vol. 1, Nr. 1, 2008, pp. 61-81. Cristina Claudia Popescu, museum professional The Museum of the “Ion Mincu” School of Architecture and Urban Planning, Bucharest claucris_popescu@yahoo.com 53


Figure 1. The CFR “Pacific” 231.050 locomotive

“Centennial TRAINS” CULTURAL PROJECT

ABSTRACT The cultural project „Centennial Trains” is a cultural activity which aims to present for the public several old railway vehicles that circulated during the First World War. It also wants the visitors to be introduced in the atmosphere of those 100 years latter times. The opportunity to organize this cultural event is the most important holiday of the Romanian people, namely the celebration of 100 years of the Great Union when modern Romania was created by unification of Transylvania with Romania. This event will be organized in Alba Iulia and also can be presented to the public and in terms of railway transport. Perhaps not all Romanians are familiar with the railway from that time and the importance role of railways during the First World War, thus this old rail vehicles exhibition will be presented. The project provides restoration of old steam locomotives, royal train and public presentation of a famous locomotive at that time, 231.000 „Pacific locomotive”. There will be the first public presentation of Alba Iulia military armored train that was captured by Roman troops.

Key-words: Centennial, Cultural Project, Alba Iulia, Railway Exhibition, Trains of the Centennial, Steam Locomotives, Royal Train 54


Foreword This cultural project is meant to present to the general public, with the occasion of the 100th anniversary of the Great Union of 1918, a part of the atmosphere of the times when the modern Romania project was being implemented. The railway was, both before the First World War and in the interwar period, the main means of transportation in Romania, without which it was impossible for the country to advance from feudalism to the modern era and catch up with the other European civilizations. A national necessity in times of war and an irreplaceable driver of economic growth in times of peace, railways have always played an important role in the development of Romania

and are today considered essential for the progress of all the nations of the European Union in the future. This cultural project is intended to present the Romanian railways and the trains by which our grandparents or perhaps our great-grandparents travelled in to Alba Iulia on the first day of December 1918. The proposed rolling stock exhibition plans to bring to the fore the trains and the railway activity of the past and to offer “an overview of those times.” The project objective is to put on display, on the occasion of Great Union Centennial, at Alba Iulia railway station, some old time locomotives and train cars of an undeniable historical importance and which are highly representative for the World War I period, which were in circulation in those times.

The Target Audience The audience targeted by this cultural project is the general public: locals and people from other regions, who will attend the Great Union celebration events. After the end of the Great Union Centennial celebration, the old trains may be used to organize an itinerant exhibition, designed to present the history of the Romanian railways to the people in the country’s historical regions. We expect that all the public, regardless of age, who will attend the events, will be interested in this railway exhibition. Children and younger visitors will be impressed to see steam locomotives, old train cars, rail railway artillery, the royal train of Romania and a locomotive form the famous “Pacific” series. Every child has dreamed of getting on the cab of a steam locomotive or admiring real-life railway artillery. Children have probably seen such vehicles only in illustrated books or on TV. But to date, most of them have not had the chance to see them at 1:1 scale. To

older people, these trains or some of them at least awaken their memories. Whether they are former railroad workers, who can tell stories from their workplace, or simple train passengers, old trains are a symbol of encounters, separations, joy and sadness, of long-awaited holidays or the train that took them to their military unit as conscripts. Whatever they are or were once, the members of the public will tell us their stories and recount their memories, spurred at the sight of these trains. Although these exhibits have been preserved over time, the public has had rather limited access to them. So far, in the region around the town of Alba Iulia no exhibition of railway vehicles has been organized in the last decades. That is why we expect the public to show a great deal of interest and curiosity for this kind of events, especially because the locomotives and train carts of the year 1918 have never been shown to the public.

The Cultural Project Resources The material resources required for implementing this project include existent rail vehicles and especially those that were in circulation during the First World War. Starting from this idea, the theme of this project was to exhibit rail vehicles of historical importance that travelled on the railway at that time or similar vehicles. As such, the proposal is to exhibit the “Pacific” 231.065

steam locomotive, the royal train set consisting of wagons 51 53 89-10 011-3, 51 53 89-10 015-4, 51 53 89-10 001-4, 51 53 89-10 010-5, 51 53 89-10 055-0 and car transportation wagon of this train, the five-car „Moldoviţa” train, the steam locomotives CFR 7311 , 620, 1493, 077 and four armored wagons – a cannon barrel carrier wagon, a rail cannon carriage car and 55


two rail cannon cars dating back from the first world conflagration. Financial resources will also be required for the repair of these exhibits and for their transportation to and from the Alba Iulia railway station, to be displayed as operational stationary exhibits. The initial plan was to attract the funds for this project from the public budget, via the Centennial Celebration

Department, which, at the time when the project was designed, was subordinated to the Romanian Government and had its own budget dedicated to organization of events of this type. We presented out proposals to that body and received an agreement in principle. Our proposal now is to sign a partnership agreement with the entities participating in this project. It is necessary that funding be provided through the budgets of the partner ministries.

Potential Project Partners Potential partners in this project are the railway companies and the public institutions administering the exhibits, under the patronage of the Ministry of Transport, the Ministry of National Defense and the Ministry of Culture and National Identity. These partners are:

• The Ministry of Culture and National Identity, which will coordinate the restoration of the railway vehicles to be exhibited; • The National Center for Railway Staff Qualification and Training - CENAFER, through its Railways Museum, as organizer and manager of steam locomotives CFR 7311, 620, 1493, 077; • the company SC “SFT CFR-SA”, a railway tourist travel company, as the administrator of the “Pacific 231.065” steam locomotive, of the Royal Train of Romania and of the “Moldoviţa” train set; • SNTFC “CFR-Călători” SA, which will handle the carrying of the exhibition vehicles from their storage place to the repair plant and then to the exhibition site and then back to the storage place.

• Ministry of Transport, as main partner, organizer and administrator of these railway vehicles of historical importance; • Ministry of National Defense, through the National Military Museum “King Ferdinand I”, as administrator of the Skoda bomber train of the First World War;

The Importance of the Vehicles to be Exhibited The reasons for choosing these vehicles was primarily their belonging to the historic age under consideration, i.e. the 1918 Great Union of Romania and the fact that most of them have been classified as “Thesaurus” assets under orders issued by the Minister of Culture. The CFR “Pacific” 231.050 locomotive The CFR Pacific 231.065 steam locomotive is a valuable asset and the most representative of the Romanian Railways. In the first decade of the 20th century, the CFR fleet of express locomotives was limited to type 1B1-n2 « Orleans », no. 20-27 and 455-499 locomotives, which been put into operation in 1886 and in the period 18921893, respectively. These locomotives, which had over 20 years of service and a limited traction power, could no longer meet the increased rail traffic needs, so the CFR Administration decided to purchase 2C1 “Pacific” locomotives (the name “Pacific” was adopted for the first time by the North American ALCO factory for a 56

series of 2C1 locomotives built by its workshops in Brooks for the Missouri Pacific rail network in 1902). The Specification for the first PACIFIC locomotives of the CFR Company was developed by engineers Theodor Dragu (1848-1925), assistant general manager George C. Cosmovici (1854-1920), the director of the Workshop and Traction Department and the young Theodor Balş, head of the Rail Study Department, who all contributed later on to the project finalization. The offer of the J.A. Maffei factory in München was selected, whose project was based on the model of the Bavarian locomotive S 3/6, type 2C1-h4v (later the DR 18 series), which had been manufactured since 1908. Compared to the German design, the locomotive built for Romanian Railway Company (CFR) showed some notable differences: four twin cylinders (the compound solution was never accepted by CFR) driving the first motive axle, a Heusinger steam chest, fitted with


one cylindrical drawer for each of the two adjacent cylinders, coupling wheels dia. 1,855 mm versus dia. 2,000 mm in the German locomotive, a bar frame (a solution used by CFR for the first time) and mixed coalfuel oil combustion. The boiler had 13 atm., a 4 m2 grate and a total heating range of 315.2 m2, the highest heating capacity for the European Pacific locomotives at that time. The portion of the boiler enclosing the firebox was larger in diameter than the horizontal boiler to which it was connected by a tapered section. The cylinders were aslope, so as to facilitate the free lateral movement of the axles of the leading bogie. Also, this arrangement allowed for the reduction of the coupled axels’ wheelbase, thus obtaining the space required for the bulky firebox. Each pair of cylinders was cast from a single metal block, along with the corresponding cylindrical drawer, to reduce the weight of the locomotive and to also simplify its distribution mechanism (a solution patented by Maffei manufacturers). The locomotives were equipped with two fuel oil burners type Dragu and a fuel oil preheater was fitted inside the cab. The driving wheel axle was “Adams Webb” type and was attached to the last coupling axle by an equalizing beam, similar to the solution applied to the first two coupled axels. The locomotives were equipped with a Westinghouse automatic fast brake, Forster pressure regulator, a Wakefield grease pump (with 10 discharge valves, identical to the one mounted on the Pacific locomotives operated by Baden Railways) and a Friedmann pump, a Brüggemann sand pipes, Hausshälter speedometer and two Friedmann water injectors. The rigid 4-axle chassis could take up 21 cubic meters of water, 6 cubic meters of fuel oil and 4 tons of coal. The locomotives could tow a 290 tf. train running at a speed of 90 km/h and could reach a maximum speed of 126 km/h, which was a real performance for that period. CFR Pacific locomotives were built in several lots, starting with the year 1913, as follows: • 2201 – 2220, Maffei 3365/1913 – 3384/1913 (20 pieces) • 2221 – 2225, Maffei 3462/1914 – 3466/1914 (5 pieces) • 2226 – 2231, Maffei 3467/1915 – 3472/1915 (6 pieces) • 2232 – 2240, Maffei 3473/1916 – 3481/1916 (9 pieces)

• 231.041 – 231.060, Maffei 5426/1922 – 5445/1922 (20 pieces) • 231.061 – 231.090, Henschel 18995/1922 – 19024/1922 (30 pieces) From the factory, the 231.065 locomotive was delivered to CFR Bucuresti Calatori depot and was used to tow passenger trains until the end of the 1970s, when train traction by steam locomotives ceased almost completely. The locomotive was withdrawn from circulation in 1970 and stored at the Buzau depot. On 23.02.1979, it was transferred to the CFR Museum and is currently managed SC “SFT CFR-SA” Railway Tourism Company. The 231.065 locomotive is one of the last two locomotives of this type that have been preserved to this day (the second one is Pacific 231.050). The 231.065 locomotive is in a good technical condition and could be put back into operation after revision and repair works.

The royal train of Romania It the most important historical train of all existing train sets, despite the fact that it has not been preserved in its entirety to these days. The royal train was purchased from m “Ernesto Breda” manufacturer in Milan, Italy, in 1928. The five train cars now still in existence were used by members of the Royal House of Romania for internal travels , for travels on the Bucharest-Sinaia route and for travels abroad. Although they underwent some interior design changes during the Communist era, the train cars are still authentic and original. Even today, members of the Royal House of Romania use to travel by the royal train on the occasion of various anniversary trips in the country and on the occasion of the National Day of Romania celebration. These cultural projects were organized by CENAFER through the Railways Museum and were aimed at making this train and the Romanian railway history known to the people from the different regions of the country. Apart from the five passenger coaches, the royal trainer has a car carrier wagon, which was once used for the transport the cars of the royal family. At present, this car carrier wagon is stored at Mogosoaia Depot, being in a pretty good shape to be added to Royal Train of Romania, after a few refurbishments. The car carrier wagon could be used to organize itinerant exhibitions accompanying the royal train in its journeys around the country. 57


Figure 2 - The Royal Train of Romania

“Modovița” train This train set was rebuilt in the ‘90s and consists of five old wagons mounted on two axles each. The train is in excellent technical condition and can be put in operation after the necessary inspections by the Romanian Railway Authority – AFER, on the occasion of different national celebrations of a historic nature. It is also important to say that the cars of this train date back before the historic moment of December 1, 1918 and could successfully be included in an exhibition to be organized on the occasion of the Great Union 100th anniversary. Historically-relevant for the December 1, 1918 historical moment, these train wagons are perfect for recreating for the general public the train travel atmosphere of the World War I period. CFR 7311 steam locomotive The first tender-locomotive of the pr. T 93 series, type 1Ct-n2, was delivered in 1900 to the Romanian Railway Company (CFR) by the German manufacturer Union Gieβerei, Königsberg. The Prussian T93 locomotives had the following technical characteristics: cylinder diameter 450 mm, piston stroke 630 mm, boiler capacity 12 kgf/cm2, grate surface 1.53 m2, total heating area 107.30 m2, driving wheel and coupling wheel diameter 1.350 mm, total wheelbase 6000 mm, total length over buffers 10,700 mm, net weight of locomotive 46.50 tf, weight of locomotive in operation 59.90 tf, adherent weight 45.00 tf and a maximum running speed of 65 58

km/h. They were equipped with Heusinger distribution and could take up 2 t of coal and 7 m3 of water. In the period 1900-1914, the German factories delivered 2211 coal-car locomotives type 1Ct-n2, series pr. T 93, of which 2055 units to the Prussian Railway Company, 133 units to the Alsace and Lorraine Railways and 23 units to various other German railways companies. The T-93 Prussian locomotives were later assigned the serial number DR Gt. 34.15 (DRG 913-18). Of these locomotives, 24 units from the former MED9 (the German Military Railway Directorate 9 in Romania) were taken over by CFR after 1919. The oldest of these locomotives dated back to 1902 KPEV KAT 7311/CFR 7311b – Jung 574/1902 și KPEV KBG 7264/CFR 7264 – Union 1205/1902). Although old, the T93-type CFR locomotives, owing to their simple yet perfect design and construction, were decommissioned as late as in early 1980s. The CFF 7311a, Hen 7680/1906, withdrawn from service on October 2, 1981, after it had been used for shunting operations by the timber deposits in Filiaşi and Preajba, near Târgu Jiu, is the only locomotive of this type that was preserved to date. The locomotive was assigned to the depots of “Bucharest Mărfuri” Railway Company (1926-1941), Buzău (1944–1946), then back to the București Marshalling Yard (1946–1950), and to CFR Palas


Figure 3 - “Moldoviţa” Train

Figure 4 - CFR 7311 steam locomotive

Constanța Workshops (1950–1959). In 1959, it was transferred to the Ministry of Forestry and assigned to CFF Brezoi Depot. In 1960, the locomotive was assigned to CFF Târgu Jiu Depot for shunting operations at the Preajba railway station. On August 17, 1989, the locomotive was transferred by the CFR Museum, at the initiative and through the efforts of CFR history fans. Currently, it is under the administration of CENAFER – Railway Museum and can be shown as a static exhibit at the rolling stock exhibition to be organized in honor of the 1 December 1918 Centennial celebration. CFR 077 Steam locomotive The CFR 077 locomotive is part of the first CFR tender locomotive series, consisting of 40 units built by Hannoversche Maschinenbau AG, Hannover Linden (Hanomag) between 1911 and 1915: • no. 046-065: 20 pcs. 1911-1912 • no. 069-088: 20 pcs. 1914-1915 The Ct-n2 type locomotives were designed for hauling trains on secondary rail tracks and, after 1950, they were used for shunting purposes by various CFR railway stations and the rail lines of various industrial units. The only locomotive of this type that is still existent is the 077 locomotive, which was in service until the late ‘60s at the depot in Ploiesti and Bucharest Marshalling station deport, respectively. In 1971, at the initiative of the engineer Octavian Udrişte, the locomotive was exhibited at the Bucharest Călători Depot and transferred to the patrimony of CFR Museum in Bucharest. After 1994, it was moved to the Sibiu depot and is currently under the administration of

Figure 5 - CFR 077 steam locomotive

CENAFER – Romanian Railway Museum and may be shown as a static exhibit at the rolling stock exhibition to be organized at the 100th anniversary of the Great Union of 1 December 1918. CFR 620 steam locomotive In 1890, following increase in rail traffic and in the length of the railways in operation, CFR put into service new locomotives, series 597 - 680, type C-n2 (84 pieces), designed especially for hauling freight trains. The locomotives were commissioned on the basis of the technical specifications developed by the A II office of the Central Workshop and Rolling Stock Directorate (Directorate A). The manufacturing works was awarded to several well-known locomotive manufacturers of that time: Henschel (Hen), Société Franco-Belge (SFB), Breda (Bre), Hanomag (Han) and Graffenstaden (SACMG). Type C-n2 locomotives were introduced on light rail transport lines, had 1330 mm diameter driving and 59


mm long bars. The locomotives were coupled by means of 3-axle tenders, with wheels of 1200 mm in diameter, and could take up 10 m3 of water and 8.5 tons of fuel. The tender weight in operation was 32.4 tons.

Figure 6 - CFR 620 steam locomotive

coupling wheels and could reach a maximum speed of 55 km/h. These locomotives were built with a frame (inside rods) and two cylinders mounted on either side of the frame. The wheels were made of iron by the mixedwheel Arbel system and had strength of 32 kg/mm2. The wheel had a diameter of 1324 mm (including the steel flange), and the flanges had an inner diameter of 1200 mm, a width of 140 mm and were fixed to wheels by steel rings, which was an innovative system for that time. The frame was made of two longitudinal rods reinforced by three crossbars that also served as a boiler support. Suspension springs from the driving axle were connected by means of equalizing beams to the leaf springs of the front coupling axle and were located above the axles. At the rear coupling axle, due to the firebox, the suspension springs were placed beneath the firebox and were connected together via an equalizing beam attached to one of the frame crossbars, at one end, and connected with the rods by a hook, to the other end. The firebox was made of 16-26 mm thick brass plates and had a total heating surface of 8.16 m2. The boiler consisted of three riveted shell plates made of 10 mm thick steel sheet and had an inner diameter of 1400 mm; the steam dome had a diameter of 650 mm. Inside the boiler there were 182 steam pipes, each having an inner diameter of 45 mm. The distance between the tubular plates was 4450 mm. The smoke box was fitted with a spark arrester, mounted at the base of the smoke stack. The smoke stack was tronconical and had a length of 1156 mm and a diameter of 450 mm at the upper part. The water was fed into the boiler by means of two Friedmann water injectors placed on both sides of the locomotive, under the driver cab. The boiler had a total heating surface of 122.66 m2, a stamp of 10 ATM and was equipped with two safety valves, each with a diameter of 72 mm. The distribution was Allan system type, fitted with slide valves, a 300 forward angle, an eccentricity radium of 64 mm and 1320 60

From the 597-680 lot, a single locomotive, the CFR 620 MURGENI locomotive, was preserved, which was built in 1890 by Société Franco-Belge de Matériel de Chemins de Fer, La Croyère – Raismes. The one who saved it from scrapping and included it in the patrimony of the CFR Bucharest Museum was the late Demetru Urmă, one of the leading personalities of the Romanian railway historiography, who had a decisive contribution to the organization of the museum and of the CFR technical library. In 1972 the locomotive was exhibited at Bucuresti Calatori Depot, where it remained until after 1994, when it was transferred to the Sibiu depot, being currently in the administration of CENAFER - Railway Museum. The 620 locomotive may be shown as a static exhibit at the rolling stock exhibition to be organized at the December 1918 Centennial celebration. The CFR 1493 steam locomotive One of the modern types of locomotives used on the CFR network in the late nineteenth century was the C-n2 locomotive, the series dedicated to towing mixed trains. This type of locomotive had been studied in 1893 by the Romanian engineer G. Cosmovici and was designed to tow on secondary lines both passenger and freight trains. The first 20 locomotives of this type, locomotives CFR 1480-1499, were delivered in 1894 by the German company Henschel & Sohn, Kassel. They were equipped with three coupled axles and a crossbar Allan type distribution; the driving and the coupling wheels had a diameter of 1462 mm and could reached a maximum speed of 73 km/h. The frame rods were made of 23 mm thick plates and the suspension springs of the driving axle and those of the last coupling axle were connected by equalizing beams. The locomotives were equipped with Westinghouse compressed air brake system, actuating on the tender wheels only, and a Gresham sandbox, actuating on the driving and the coupled axle (trailing truck). The 2-axle locomotive tender could take up 9.5 cubic meters of water, 3 cubic meters of solid fuel and 2 cubic meters of liquid fuel (fuel oil). Mixed combustion was used, with locomotives being equipped with Holden fuel oil pulverizers.


Figure 7 - CFR 1493 steam locomotive

Some of the 1480-1499 series locomotives were maintained in service for shunting duties up until 1967. At the initiative of engineer Octavian Udrişte, then head of the București Călători Depot, one of these locomotives, the 1493 (Hen 3824/1894) locomotive, coupled with the 1497 tender, was exhibited at the said depot and transferred to the patrimony of the CFR Bucharest Museum on June 24, 1971. The locomotive was initially assigned to the Craiova depot and was still one of the fleet of that depot in 1901. In its last year of service, the locomotive was kept in the București Călători Depot and used for shunting duties by the Bucharest Basarab railway station. On the occasion of the 1994 CFR anniversary, the locomotive was restored in that same year and is exhibited at the Sibiu depot. Currently, it is managed by CENAFER - Railway Museum. The 1493 locomotive may be shown as a static exhibit at the rolling stock exhibition to be held in honor of the 1 December 1918 Centennial celebration, as an assets that is representative for that historical period, along with other rail vehicles of historical interest. The armored train This train consists of four armored railways cars – a cannon barrel railway car, a cannon carriage car and

Figure 8. The Skoda railway gun car

two gun cars (in the patrimony of the King Ferdinand I National Military Museum) and dates back to the period of the first world conflagration. The train was used in the battles by the Austro-Hungarian Empire and was manufactured by Skoda factories. The armored train was captured and used by the Romanian troops, which were fighting for victory and to fulfill the lifelong dream of the Romanian people: the Great Union of all the Romanians into a single modern state. The train consists of four rail cars, each supported by two bogies made up of two axles and was supplied with electricity from a power generator railway car. The generator fed the electric traction engines of the cars and, in addition to being able to fire the gun, it could move forward and backward on the rail track without a shunting steam engine. As a novelty of the times, the armored train had detachable wheels and the soldiers could use both profiled railroad wheels and roadway tires. At present, this train is in good condition, being exhibited along with the other valuable assets of military technique belonging to the patrimony of the “King Ferdinand I” National Military Museum. It goes without saying that this armored train would be the center of attention, if exhibited on the occasion of the 100th anniversary of the Great Union of 1918.

Current State of Affairs Currently, the railway vehicles described above, except for the armored train, are in the joint administration of the National Railway Staff Qualification and Training Center – CENAFER – The Railway Museum and SC “SFT CFR-SA” Railroad Tourism Company, subordinated to Ministry of Transport, and are classified as “Thesaurus”

assets by orders issued by the Minister of Culture. The CFR 7311, 077, 620, 1493 steam locomotives and the 231.065 steam locomotive were classified by Order no. 2686/31.07.2000 of the Minister of Culture. 61


The Royal Train of Romania (consisting of the railway cars 51 53 89-10 011-3, 51 53 89-10 015-4, 51 53 89-10 001-4, 51 53 89-10 010-5, 51 53 89-10 055-0) and the “Moldoviţa” train were classified under the “Thesaurus” category by Order 2883/31.12.2015 of the Minister of Culture. Therefore, these rail vehicles are governed by the Heritage Law no. 182/2000. The rail vehicles under consideration are in a relatively good condition, yet they need some repairs and replacements, to make them fit for being exhibited in public and worthy of the important celebration of 1 December 2018. Moreover, because these

vehicles belong to the treasury category, they must be maintained in a proper technical state at all times. Although the time left for such repairs is relatively short until 1 December 2018 and because such works are of paramount importance, they cannot be executed exclusively with the resources and the staff of CENAFER - the Railway Museum and the Railway Tourism. Instead, they could be better carried out by repair shops, which are equipped with the necessary technical facilities and are specialized in locomotive and rail car repairs, and which, in fact, have been servicing these vehicles for over a century.

Project Phasing Implementation of this project involves several stages. Firstly, a partnership agreement among all the participating entities will have to be concluded, specifying clearly the duties assigned to each partner. A second stage will consist of the confirmation of the budget of each partner by the main credit officer (usually, the ministry by which the partner institution is coordinated). The third stage will cover the conclusion of the repair works contracts with a rolling stock service plant (in this case, a facility specialized in locomotive repairs) that will handle the repair and restoration of the rail vehicles to the extent required to make them fit for being exhibited. The contract will specify the works to be carried out on each locomotive and the fact that they will be conducted under the guidance of a restorer/ conservator to be appointed by the Ministry of Culture and National Identity. Once the works contract concluded, the exhibitlocomotives will be towed from the Sibiu and Târgu Mureş depots to the repair facility, with the cars loaded, so as to comply with the brake mass percentage specified by the instructions in force and with the passage pipe in operation, to ensure the continuity of the brake system. The Royal Train and the “Moldoviţa” will be carried from the Mogoşoaia (near Buftea) workshop to another repair facility for servicing and other works (which the facility is authorized to execute) and for securing the RP repair certificate required to put the rail cars in circulation. Upon completion of their repair, the steam locomotives will be kept in the custody of the repair plant until the 1 December 2018 event, when they will be sent in a 62

special convoy from the repairer to the exhibition site. At the end of the celebration event, the locomotives will be towed cold from the event site to the storage place of the Railway Museum or of the Railroad Tourism Company, in the same transportation conditions in which they were brought to the event site. In the case that the exhibition is to travel to other places in the country, then convoys will be arranged for and the locomotives will be carried to the exhibition site. After completion of the RP repair works to be carried out the royal train and the “Moldoviţa” train, the two trains will travel to Mogoşoaia Workshop and from there they will be carried to the celebration event site. The royal train will carry the officials from Bucharest to Alba Iulia and back and will thereafter return to Mogoşoaia Workshop, for preservation. During transportation, the five-car train will be towed by an electric locomotive to Vintu de Jos station. Once there, the electric locomotive will be detached from the train and replaced by the 231,065 “Pacific” steam locomotive, under pressure, which will tow the royal train carrying the officials to the Alba Iulia railway station. The 231.065 Pacific steam locomotive will be maintained pressurized during the event and will later be cooled by the train crew and transported in cold state to the location indicated by the owner, for storage and preservation. The “Moldoviţa” train will be towed, a few days before the event, from the Mogoşoaia Workshop to Alba Iulia. This train will be towed by a dedicated vehicle, given the fact that this train is authorized to travel at a maximum speed of 30 km/h. The train will be stationed in the Alba Iulia railway station throughout the event. After the event, the train will return to Bucharest and to the


Mogoşoaia Workshop, for preservation purposes. If it is desired to move the exhibition to other places in the country, then a traction locomotive will be provided to tow the Moldoviţa train to the exhibition site. The armored train will be driven by means of the road vehicles of the Ministry of Defense from the “King Ferdinard I” National Military Museum to the Alba Iulia station and back. The loading and unloading of these

four exhibit-cars at the National Military Museum and the Alba Iulia station will be ensured by the means of the Ministry of Defense. Upon arrival at the Alba Iulia station, the exhibit-vehicles will be handled by means of hydraulic diesel locomotive, made available by the railway transport operator which handled also the transportation of the vehicles.

Action Plan The project activities will commence at CFR Alba Iulia Station on December 1, 2018. The personalities present at the event and to any other manifestations related to Great Union Centennial celebration will arrive at CFR Alba Iulia station on board of the royal train specially prepared for the occasion. The famous train will arrive at the station towed by the equally notorious Pacific 231.065 locomotive, which will be under pressure and will operate by its own. The royal train will stop in front of the red carpet on

which the personalities present at the event will get off the train. A military fanfare will sing the state anthem. Then the officials will visit the exhibition of rolling stock dating back to the WWI period and thereafter they will attend the string of events organized with the occasion of the 100th anniversary year of the 1918 Great Union of Romania. The exhibition showing the static rails vehicles and the royal train towed by the 231.065 Pacific steam locomotive will remain open to the public for several days.

Conclusions The organization of this exhibition has a very important role. Besides the well-deserved restoration of the mentioned vehicles and the presentation of the railway history as it was, this manifestation comes to support the idea of preserving “the memory of the industrial technical heritage” The proposed project activities are technically, historically and materially feasible and will give the public, as the main stakeholder, the chance to get to learn new things about the Romanian railways and its valuable assets of high historical significance. As we have said before these vehicles are no less valuable than those in other countries and, more importantly, they are originals, not replicas, which is yet another reason for paying them the special attention they deserve. We should respect our past, our history and our national identity as much as we respect the elderly, because, like our grandparents, railroad vehicles also tell us their story. All we need is take a moment to listen to them.

References Lacrițeanu Șerban, Popescu Ilie, History of Railway Traction in Romania 1854-1918, vol. 1, Asab Publishing House, 2007. Gabriel Mărgineanu, Șerban Lacrițeanu, The fleet of steam locomotives with normal gauge of Căile Ferate Române 1869-2000, Agir Publishing House, Bucharest, 2014. Ilie Popescu, Railways during World War I, Club Feroviar Român, 2012. Evaluation and appraisal reports on the technical, historical and heritage value of rail vehicles, drawn up by an expert in “assets of a technical significance”, authorized by the Ministry of Culture and Religious Affairs. Marcel Otoiu Mircea DOROBANȚU National Center for Railway Qualification and Training – CENAFER; Muzeul Căilor Ferate cenafer@cenafer.ro; kb651@yahoo.com

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A path of responsibility for heritage

ABSTRACT Due to a complex of factors, we find that much remains to be done in capitalizing the cultural heritage of Bucharest, whose identity resides not only in its mobile and immobile elements, already part of the common cultural circuit, but also in those that still await to be treasured. Therefore, heritage education, besides a necessary information and awareness action on the importance of cultural and social heritage, is also an action of providing civic involvement in a very necessary process of heritagization. Thus, the fact that 2018 will be marked by events dedicated both to Great Union Centennial and European Year of Cultural Heritage, can be an enhancement factor for facilitating each of us access to national values, of course, in a manner consistent with requirements of contemporary world. Moreover, taking as reference the recent project „Bucharest - cultural route� initiated by City Hall and the Ministry of Culture and National Identity, which falls within the scope of actions dedicated equally to the two events mentioned, we try to identify project`s correspondences in the responsibilities sphere of all stakeholders, on the assumption of which depends the success of cultural heritage valorisation, in the vicinity of which we live together.

Key-words: Responsibility to protect cultural heritage, Heritage Education, Bucharest cultural itinerary, Museum Route, Heritagization, European Year of Cultural Heritage 2018, Great Union Centennial. 64


The project “The Cultural Bus” Mayor General of Bucharest, seconded by the Minister of Culture and the manager of the Bucharest Museum, inaugurated in early November this year a new RATB bus route (Line 362, 29.3 km long) which aims to facilitate access to 30 of the most significant museums in Bucharest. With a modest cost to the City Hall, the cultural benefits of this project are expected to be felt by both foreign and Romanian tourists, whose interest in the Capital’s museums and major edifices on the route is expected to grow. In this sense, the “cultural bus” offers to the travellers (who will pay only the price of a regular ticket) an audio presentation (in English) of all the museum objectives on the route as well as a leaflet with the map of the museum objectives the visit of which becomes easier (see the Annex). Given the success of such bus lines, which operate in many other cities of foreign interest, it is absolutely normal to expect the same result in Bucharest, especially since there have already been a lot of requests from schools, high schools, faculties, organizations and foundations, and even simple citizens to benefit from this urban public transport tool for culture.1 According to the Minister of Culture, the idea of this cultural route came from the former General Manager of the National Art Museum Călin Stegerean, who at one point said: “There are museums, there are tourist attractions in Bucharest very hard to reach on current routes. How it would be like if we had a cultural line? “Once implemented, there is only to be noticed the increase in the interest of tourists and of Bucharest dwellers, obviously, in this cultural offer, which actually opens the series of cultural events organized by the City Hall to mark, in particular, the Centennial of the Great Union. At the same time, through the inauguration of this route, both the encouragement of the public transport means, especially in the centre of Bucharest, and the (re) discovery of the Capital’s museum offer from a dynamic perspective, which also benefit from an adequate presentation is pursued.2 1 http://www.mediafax.ro/social/o-noua-linie-ratb-in-capitala-petraseul-muzeelor-costul-lunar-suportat-de-primaria-capitalei-vafi-de-30-000-de-euro-16806438 (15 nov. 2017). 2 https://www.libertatea.ro/stiri/autobuz-special-al-ratb-pentrumuzee-traseu-cultural-2027290 (15 nov. 2017).

Relevance of the project for the European Year of Heritage Through the European Year of Cultural Heritage 2018 this being the first year dedicated to the diversity and richness of the heritage by the European Union - European citizens are called to look, closer and more attentively, to the values on which their societies are based, so the feeling of European identity, as well as that of national identity is consolidated. Of course, we, Romanians, also contribute to the diversity and richness of this cultural heritage, but the palpable evidence in this respect is still waiting for a presentation up to its importance. At the same time, this project undertaken by the municipality (which we will hereinafter call more simply the “Museums Route”) aims to promote intercultural dialogue and social cohesion, local and regional development, as well as to underline the need to adequately highlight the importance of protecting the our common cultural heritage.3 Viewed from this perspective, the “Museum Route” in Bucharest gives the opportunity to those who visit it to look not only at the cultural settlements they will want to stop to visit, but also at the significant buildings of the Capital on this route. This “on the go” perspective brings a further understanding of each person’s responsibility for preserving heritage, not just for us and future generations, but also for keeping alive the European spirituality. Highlighted in a series of EU programmatic documents and very well synthesized in the document entitled “Towards an integrated approach to European cultural heritage”, the importance of sustainable cultural heritage management is a strategic option for the 21st century, due in particular to its potential to create value and jobs and give a new quality to the cultural life of the city.4 Also, because the project “Cultural Route” in Bucharest corresponds to a participatory approach, which now characterizes the valorisation of the patrimony, it can contribute to an overall understanding of the patrimony, in this particular case, of the museum - an integrated understanding of the social context of the Capital and oriented towards the sustainable development of its cultural tourism. 3 https://ec.europa.eu/culture/european-year-cultural-heritage-2018_ en (16 nov. 2017). 4 European Parliament (2014), p. 10.

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Considering that the European Year of Cultural Heritage also naturally aims to raise public awareness of its role in disseminating information on good practice, a cultural heritage approach in a way involving collaboration, in the case of our project - between the museums in Bucharest - can only correspond very well to the general objectives of this year, embraced by the multiple facets of culture. Apparently a local event, “The Museum Route” is far more than that, because it represents an initiative that has the capacity to bring to light the value of the cultural heritage that we meet in the Capital, as well as to stimulate the desire of involving the public in selecting sources of information about it, and then transmitting them, of course, through social networks that have already transformed every single citizen into an ad-hoc journalist (including cultural).5 An example of good practice in heritage education Within the topics that we find in Heritage Education, museum education plays a distinct role, as the museum is increasingly becoming an educative resource, which is increasingly showing communication valences, unprecedented in the past. In the case of the “Museum Route” project, we are dealing with a non-formal museum education that begins on the bus and continues throughout its course - along with the historical buildings on the route - then the acquired knowledge is consolidated at each museum visited in part. This whole journey allows the echoes of this “initiatory journey” not to be extinguished when leaving the museum threshold. This happens because the museum, through the process that it integrates, becomes a natural expression of a culture crucible, on which we have already had the overall view. Corresponding to the first level of educational initiation, the “Museum Route” is awaiting to demonstrate its capacity to open up the horizon of further culturalization through new and new ideological connections that we are invited to do. At the same time, since “museum education is structured, first of all, through a speech built using the museum presentation device, new methods are needed to communicate this discourse, by creating a visual environment favourable to learning”6, and the project 5 European Parliament and Council (2017), p. 18. 6 Hooper-Greenhill E., (2001), p. 41.

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to which we refer manages to highlight a dynamic space that is designed to provide a more “humanized” and “contemporary” integrative perspective on the Capital’s museums. Thus, the pedagogical resources of the museum are extended to meeting with the area of its integration into the real space of the city, where not only interdisciplinary correlations, but also individual connections based on personal feelings that can trigger interest and motivation for both learning, and for further forwarding the lived cultural experience, take place. The fact that the “Cultural Route” has the gift to open the Capital’s museums to an educative self-training course, of course, not institutionalized, represents a novel and efficient culturalization opportunity, in a city which is in no way lacking cultural alongja, but only an infusion of freshness and inventiveness in the way of thinking of capitalizing on the local network of museums, by opening them to the public at last and in a less passive and conventional manner.7 Of course, the achievement of heritage education objectives depends both on the characteristics of the cultural heritage presented and on the psychosocial and cultural characteristics of the population to whom such education is intended. In turn, these values to be shared need equally positive reference to the cultural heritage and an evolution of the mentality towards the requirements of contemporary life, where education is getting more and more content, on the one hand, vocational and voluntary and, on the other hand, placed in the sphere of diversity.8 The participatory side of heritage education, which we can consider to be stimulated by our project, can play an important role in re-thinking the way in which we understand and interpret the accumulation of experiences related to the transfer of cultural significance between generations. The fact that the “Museum Route” gives us the opportunity to prepare for a visit to the museum in the city’s rough environment before reaching the actual museum experience has positive consequences both in terms of discovering the organic environment in which a museum currently operates, as well as in the discovery of its historical aspects, in the light of something assimilated as already familiar. 7 8

Cucoș C. (2013). pp. 29-33. Bunescu G. (2001), pp. 9-22.


In addition, heritage education, to which this project contributes, brings to the participants a new social competence - that of the overall perspective – based on which they can develop their own opinion on the contribution of external influences in the creation of authentic cultural heritage and, at the same time, common with all the citizens of Europe. Essentially, it is about an active approach of responsible involvement of the public in discovering, appreciating and, of course, preserving the patrimony at local level with positive implications in opening up to other horizons about the need to collaborate and multiply such examples of best practices in the field of heritage education.9

An impetus for awareness of involvement in the heritagization process By the example offered by the project presented, we find ourselves in the face of an interpretation of the heritage directly and in a dynamic imposed by contemporary social changes that do not resort to scientific explanations other than the ones required for the purpose of its popularization. However, it is obvious that we are dealing with a holistic approach that aims to re-communicate with a responsible and forwardlooking understanding of how the heritage performs its social function - while at the same time placing itself, without reservation, at our disposal. The “Museum Route” thus becomes a possible platform for debate, where people can share their personal experiences about the known heritage directly or mediated. From this exchange of ideas, reinterpretations of the roles of the museum’s presence, as well as of the monuments discovered along the way, in the references to the past and to the future, based on individual experiences, can be born. In this way, a collective image of collective relation to heritage appears, which can be considered not only its most authentic interpretation, but also a vivid expression of public interest for its natural and cultural environment, in accordance with the need for social cohesion and with the active knowledge of the social environment.10 DHence the awareness that, when we talk about making the heritage worthwhile, we are actually referring to an entire process, linked, on the one

hand, to its packaging for the public and, on the other hand, to many more elements related to the role and functionality of the heritage considered in all aspects of the life of a community. In this situation, absolutely desirable, we can better observe the real stake of conservation and valorization of the heritage, regardless of the historical moment in which it is achieved and regardless of the importance of this heritage. This process consists in making it worthwhile by permanent rediscovery and by extracting its universal character from any contextualization that we have access to. This approach also corresponds to the process of heritagization and allows both the production of the heritage of a community and its revaluation from a global perspective that is in line with the requirements of contemporaneity. This is best showed in terms of education in the spirit of harmonizing the cultural dimension with that of responsibility for the needs of integrating local culture into a multicultural dimension. Of course, the “Museum Route” project is even more important in the context of multiculturalism, as it provides the public with a variant of interpretation of the museum heritage on the move and, moreover, an opportunity to appreciate it in a real social context. Recognizing the importance of promoting and interpreting cultural heritage by affirming local identity and initiatives that open up the public to awareness of the fact that heritage is a common good to be discovered, valued and protected for future generations, heritagization creates the premises for strengthening the sense of belonging to a cultural community and, as a result, of belonging to the expanded spiritual community at European level (at least). Moreover, taking into account the fact that from the attendance of the “Museum Route” new opportunities of cultural activities emerge, we have outlined a true flow of benefits which can be of use not only to the individual perspective of valuing the cultural heritage for society but also to the common interest in the discovery of new heritage reserves, in order to strengthen a national cultural identity that happily meets a valorizing supranational identity.

9 De Troyer V., Vermeersch J. (2006), pp. 18-22. 10 ICOMOS (2008), p. 104.

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Unfortunately, awaiting the fruits of such favourable conditions for heritagization, we must mention that including on the Museum’s Route of the Capital we encounter too many expressions of its cultural heritage (for example, historical buildings) abandoned, which prove a regrettable disinterest for good management of this patrimony, in which case we can speak of the opposite of heritagization, namely about a true phenomenon of non-heritagization. The invocation of the lack of financial resources in this case cannot be supported, because when a civilized community is confronted with the problem of the obligation to hand down the cultural heritage from generation to generation, the cause of the heritage must

prevail over other commands. Also, the lack of resources attracted for heritage recovery cannot be invoked even when the visitors of the patrimony are deprived of the modern means of information, which have already transformed the visitors of the Western museums into active agents of interaction with the heritage forms that attract, voluntarily or involuntarily, their attention. At the same time, from a multicultural perspective, the heritagization solved the problem of interpretation of the patrimony in the specific note of the heritage protection and promotion requirements that stimulate both civic involvement and attitude of respect and responsibility towards the identity values of the local patrimony, of course, in their universal projection.11

Project evaluation in terms of heritage responsibility coordinates Promotion of any innovative projects of changing the participatory view of cultural heritage management should involve all stakeholders, starting with public authorities, the cultural heritage sector, private actors, and civil society organizations and private donors. Thus, a project like the “Cultural Route”, which starts from the collaboration between Bucharest City Hall, Ministry of Culture and National Identity and RATB, has all the necessary data to constitute an example of good practice of assuming responsibility for the performance of cultural activities involving, on the one hand, the image of the Capital and, on the other hand, the necessity of integrating the local cultural heritage into a wider circuit, in which the core of European values is found. Also, because we are talking about the integration of cultural heritage, we must keep in mind that the first stage of integration of such a project is that of the environment, represented by the architectural and urban landmarks along the way. Thus, the “Cultural Route”, which has museums as a landmark, highlights the need to implement an integrated urban regeneration strategy, which is to capitalize on the unexploited potential of Bucharest’s cultural heritage. This would be a first mandatory step in promoting modern, inventive and sustainable tourism throughout Bucharest. In order to implement such a strategy aimed at the optimal transfer of knowledge and skills in the field of cultural heritage promotion it is necessary to take responsibility at the level of each task, whether shared or not, between the institutions and persons involved in highlighting the aspects related to the valorisation 68

of a cultural patrimony, especially one with remarkable potential from all points of view, such as that of the Capital. In this respect, it cannot be said that the stakeholders have a lower or greater responsibility, because for the encouragement and development of cultural heritage projects, measuring and evaluating the results of a project are the only issues able to show whether the road from intentions to achievements has been pursued by everyone and within the projected parameters. Thus, in the case of the present project, we must await the results of a research for the general public, which is the only one able to say to what extent they felt encouraged by the “Cultural Route” to approach the cultural assets of the Capital, considered to be of heritage - waiting to be known and appreciated as such, especially by the young audience. At the same time, by assuming the responsibility of all stakeholders to capitalize on the cultural heritage, the objective of communicating the crucial role it plays in ensuring that (minimum) social cohesion can be reached, which is able to make possible the social and cultural development of a community, keeping a vivid connection with its traditions. The assumption and manifestation of this responsibility, at all levels of competence, attracts the interest of society in showing respect for its cultural values, for the common heritage and obviously for the smart way of packaging cultural products, for example through modern cultural tourism, as was the case of the projected presented here.


That is why we consider that the “Cultural Route” in Bucharest is able to offer a wider experience than the conventional one, in terms of capturing some of the cultural heritage features of the Capital, obviously, provided that such an integrated capitalization of the museum offer must be supported by a responsible approach at the level of each host in the museums to be visited. Finally, being an opportunity inspired for realizing that the cultural heritage of the Capital is far from representing what it should represent, namely the engine of social development of the metropolis from a historical and even economic point of view, the project “The Cultural Route” has all the chances, through its accessibility for the general public, to become a facilitator for reconsidering this cultural heritage, in the sense of being granted the attention and appreciation from all stakeholders.

On the other hand, such programs of cultural heritage promotion should create new waiting horizons for the beneficiaries, who also want to be able to determine their peers to take on in a responsible way the duty of honour of promoting the heritage values belonging to the community they belong to. To sum up, with regard to the responsibility and awareness of all stakeholders interested in the cultural heritage of the Capital, programs such as the “Cultural Route” offer participants a wide range of benefits, at least in terms of personal and / or professional experience and cultural interrelationships, which will obviously encourage museum visitors to experience features of cultural heritage in an integrated manner that will ensure the prosperity of its presentation and, above all, the desire to perpetuate authentic culture.13

Conclusions Starting from the recording of the current trend that determines the cultural heritage to broaden its significance, we consider that presenting the implications of the “Cultural Route” project on several levels, especially that of responsibility of those called to ensure the ease of access to the authentic culture of the Capital, adds to the need to be involved in the knowledge and promotion of cultural (public) heritage. Furthermore, we have focused on the need to multiply such projects because as far as they are adequately funded and take into account the legislative norms, they will increase the audience and the involvement of stakeholders and thereby highlight the cultural heritage.11 Why was this period (a little bit tricky) needed to come to the simple conclusion that cultural heritage is often so close to us that we risk no longer being aware of it which makes promoting any project that helps restore the overall vision to become a necessary one? Because, on the one hand, our means of preservation and promotion are, as a rule, insufficient, and thus without any responsibility in this respect, we risk losing values that would help us put our future on a sustainable path, and, on the other hand, the responsibility for preserving national identity is a matter of general interest.12 13

Also, by pointing out some elements of heritagization, considered a device that contributes decisively to the cultural values of the society belonging to the most concrete present, we have tried to show that the potential of the cultural heritage of the Capital, which gathers social, historical, aesthetic, economic values, etc., only expects to be valued effectively, namely based on professionalism, democratic spirit and responsibility. From our point of view, the “Cultural Route” is a project that contains the elements needed to be considered as an example of good practice, both in terms of offering responsible cooperation among all stakeholders and in terms of valuing - in an integrated and sustainable way - a cultural heritage that fully feels the need to improve access to its essential components. We are talking here, first of all, about the way in which we perceive today the way in which we are, sometimes lacking in those mandatory references to how we were yesterday. In this sense, evidence from the cultural heritage is indispensable, so that we can look at the past honestly and impartially

11 Gottlieb H. (2007), p. 18. 12 Cuno J. (2016), pp. 97-109. 13 ICMOS (1999), pp. 14-36.

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References Bunescu Gheorghe (coord.), 2001, Moral Education and Professional Ethics in a Transitional World, Research Report, Institute of Educational Sciences, http://www.ise.ro/educatie-morala-sietica-profesionala (November 15, 2017). Constantinescu Andreea, Platon Victor, 2014, „Patrimonialisation – sustainable development vector”, Sagitarius, Heritage as an alternative driver for sustainable development and economic recovery in South East Europe, Potenza, Basilicata, Italia. Cucoș Constantin, 2013, Museum Pedagogy - statute, objectives, practical valences, http://www. constantincucos.ro/2013/11/pedagogia-muzealastatut-obiective-valente-practice (16 nov. 2017).

Significance, https://heritagebc.ca/wp-content/ uploads/2017/10/ICOMOS-tourism-charter.pdf (13 nov. 2017). European Parliament and Council, EU Decision 2017/864 of the European Parliament and of the Council of May 17, 2017 on the European Year of Cultural Heritage (2018), Official Journal of the European Union, 20.5.2017, L 131/1. European Parliament, 2014, REPORT Towards an integrated approach to European cultural heritage, Rapporteur Mircea Diaconu, A8-0207 / 2015, 24.6.2015. United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), 2013, Managing Cultural World Heritage, World Heritage Centre.

Cuno James, 2016, The Responsibility to Protect the World’s Cultural Heritage, Brown Journal of World Affairs, Fall/Winter 2016, Volume XXXIII, Issue I. De

Troyer Veerle, Vermeersch Jens, 2006, Heritage in the Classroom. A Practical Manual for Teachers, HERitage EDUCation, Het Gemeenschapsonderwijs, Bruxelles, Belgia.

Gottlieb Halina (edit.), 2007, Basic Guidelines for Cultural Heritage Professionals in the Use of Information Technologies, Publisher: The Interactive Institute AB, Stockholm, Suedia. Hooper-Greenhill, Eilean, 2007, Museums and Education. Purpose, Pedagogy, Performance, Routledge, New York. International Council on Monuments and Sites (ICOMOS), 2008, Charter for the Interpretation and Presentation of Cultural Heritage Sites, http:// quebec2008.icomos.org/en/pdf/ Interpretation_ EN_10-04-07.pdf (November 14, 2017). ICMOS, 1999, International Cultural Tourism Charter Managing Tourism at Places of Heritage

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Sorin-Mihai Constantinescu RATB Museum info@ratb.ro


Figure 1. Aspects from the MNAC workshops

I Wonder Why I (don’t) Love My Country an Acknowledged Project ABSTRACT The article analises the context, the nuances and the results of a cultural project of education coordinated by I Wonder Why association (Asociația Da’DeCe), a non governmental organisation specialised in cultural education. The theme of the project is a priority for the national policies in Romania nowadays: the Great Union, a national historical event that is celebrated these years. The theme is translated in a more personal way by the organisers and it is transformed into a feeling rather than in a historical theme. The article describes the context of perceiving patriotism as a way to express themselves for the children. It also shows the way artists could interact with the audience in order to better understand themselves and to use art as a way of express this feeling linked with the country. The conclusion stipulates the need for this kind of project, but furthermore the need to make this kind of initiative a constant and more detailed approach on a larger scale. Key-words: patriotism, contemporary arts for children, civic engagement in the context of heritage-based education 71


Foreword educational background and the evolution of the project under consideration and analyze the results of a survey conducted by means of questionnaires prepared during the project. The authors have come to the conclusion that there is a real need for projects of this kind in the field of cultural education and that this type of initiatives should be replicated and fine-tuned as an ongoing endeavor, and not necessarily in the form of projects whose scope is most often limited by time constraints. A creative commitment, free from media or family clichés, is the authors’ view, an essential condition for approaches such as the one described by this article.

Figure 2. I Wonder Why I (don’t) Love My Country Project Poster (design by Gheorghe Iosif)

This article looks into the premises of and the conceptual approach to a project that was implemented in the year 2017, whose objective was to highlight the priority of the 100th anniversary of the 1918 Great Union. The authors of this article describe the rationales, the cultural and

Civic engagement in adults is stimulated by their exposure to tangible heritage – be it monuments, historical vestiges or artistic interpretations of major historical events. Heritage is a place where people encounter the past and the defining/formative elements of a community; they may be places of consciousness and dialogue”1. Civic engagement is also linked to the perceived ethnic/national identity and to the way we relate to it. But what happens in the case of children? The answer to this question is difficult to find, especially because we live now in a society where identities seem to be asserted more subjectively than some decades ago. David Hollinger points out that contemporary society prefers voluntary to prescribed (ethnic) affiliations and “appreciates multiple identities, pushes for communities of wide scope, recognizes the constructed character of ethno-racial groups and accepts the formation of new groups as part of the normal life of a democratic society.”2

About the “Da’DeCe” (I Wonder Why) Association – Brief History and Mission Statement The Da’DeCe Association was established six years ago, with the stated mission to implement projects in the field of cultural education in general and in museum education in particular, targeted to schools and families with children. The Association’s mission, as it was formulated in 2011, is as follows: “The Association’s projects promote a culture of successful emancipation based on artistic, human and social education. Through its programs, the Association promotes child’s self-confidence and personal development and the transformation of museums (or of other cultural institutions) into interactive places, full of objects that

talk to the visitors. The Association seeks to boost creativity and to stimulate child’s natural curiosity about culturally and socially-relevant objects, through various artistic performances. To this end, the Association uses up-to-date and original methods of heritage interpretation, such as museum drama, theatrical improvisation and storytelling, taking into consideration the latest trends in child and youth psychology.” We have focused on the personal advancement of those involved in cultural events, helping them become self-confident actors in relation to the cultural activities they engage in. We rely on improving the experience of the children 1 Little, Shackel, 2014. 2 Hollinger, 1996, p. 116.

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visiting classical museum exhibitions by providing them with education programs in museum setting. The programs are based on child psychology principles and age-oriented educational objects, as well as and on testing the educational concepts before designing any educational program and making it available to the general public This year, the Association has redefined its mission statement by orienting its actions towards activities of the type developed by the child’s museum, as a principle, i.e. towards free-choice learning, interactivity, the use of all senses and a more immersive visitation experience of the children in museum setting, while shifting the emphasis from activities that complement an exhibition towards integrated cultural products that are proposing both space arrangement (through installations or exhibitions) and educational interpretation. This new orientation has called for a refining of our mission statement in such a way as it may stand as a milestone for future strategies and enhance activity focus and coherent communication. The revised mission statement of the Association is as follows: “Da’DeCe Association reinvents and adapts the concept of the Children’s Museum through thematic itinerant exhibitions in various areas and communities. The Da’DeCe Museum is the place where heritage and contemporary arts generate new ideas, questions and emotions. It is the context in which children engage as creative and curious people, adopt new and responsible values and attitudes towards

heritage and explore new forms of contemporary art, as part of a community that is aware about its own identity and values. Classical or contemporary cultural values become, through play, a proof of the creativity and inspiration of children and adolescents, using digital, natural means of co-creation, storytelling, involvement, direct contact with heritage and meeting with artists.” The emphasis thus shifts in a balanced way from heritage to contemporary arts and from an approach to culture accessibility to community engagement and internalization of the classical and contemporary cultural values. This new orientation, initiated last year, is designed to go beyond the scope of the classical museum educational programs, by providing interactive exhibitions such as the children’s museum, with particular attention paid to children’s conceptual and actual involvement, with the works created by children during the projects being displayed at exhibitions organized at the end of the project. Thousands of children have participated in programs that were designed to trigger and increase their awareness, appreciation and internalization of cultural concepts, skills and competences in different cultural institutions or in formal education settings. Establishing a new mission statement has come as a natural response to adapt it, on the one hand, to an environment where the public and its needs have changed and, on the other hand, to a situation where the cultural milieu has adopted different communication strategies and proposes different artistic forms.

The Project “I wonder Why I (don’t) Love my Country”- Needs and Background Some of the most important financing sources for the cultural NGOs in Bucharest are the organizations financed from public funds, namely the National Cultural Fund Administration and the ARCUB. In 2016, the first call for projects launched by the former of the two aforementioned financing institutions was announcing a topic that was to become recurrent in the following two years: the 100th anniversary of the Great Union. Committed as we are to the mission of our Association, which develops projects that are really necessary and are closely linked to the preferences, needs and expectations of the public, we have started to examine the theme from several perspectives. Given that the projects are dedicated to children and that studies about this target audience are either inexistent or refer strictly to social issues, we have started to think on how we

could translate this priority into issues that are really serving children’s interests. History as a discipline can hardly be seen by children as a subject of choice. Due to the way History is taught in schools nowadays, i.e. based on an excessively dense and theoretical school curriculum, there are little chances for school children to become passionate about this subject, unless, perhaps, the school is fortunate enough to have a role-model History teacher, though, even so, the number of children falling for History will probably be rather small. In order to stir children’s interest in studying History, we decided to adapt this subject by applying a personal, hands-on approach, taking into account 73


monitor the phenomenon in time, coupled with the high degree of generality of existing studies, all make this initiative a creative rather than an investigative endeavor.

Figure 3. Cluj Napoca Art Museum exhibition opening.

the child’s level of emotional, social and cognitive development, in exactly this order. In other words, we associated the Great Union Centennial with the feeling of patriotism. We turned the relative congruence between a historical event and the idea of patriotism into an opportunity for the contemporary audience, which is little known to the cultural institutions, to engage in quizzes, artistic games and other cultural education initiatives. One of the basic guidelines of the Da’DeCe Association is the principle of constructivism, postulated by George E. Hein, which states that learning always starts by recognizing, appropriating and activating our knowledge and preconceived views on a subject.3 The transposition of a historical fact into group psychology and the application of the principle of constructivism were the two key premises of the project described in this article. We then proceeded to reviewing the available sociological studies on patriotism, so as to identify the living environment of the children we were going to meet with during the project, what their parents and grandparents thought and felt about the idea of patriotisms, the clichés they circulated and how Romanian adults today related themselves to their country, all for the purpose of discovering the true needs of the children and to justify the context in which we were to carry out our cultural education activities associated with patriotism. One of the most difficult missions of any project is to discover the real need for cultural education of the public. The small number of studies available in this field and the lack of transversal studies to 3 Hein, 2001.

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Sociological studies conducted in recent years indicate an alteration of the patriotic feeling in the population of Romania. This is due perhaps to the fact that, over the last two decades, Romania’s image in Europe was a negative, rather than a positive one.4 In Italy and Spain, the favorite places of destinations for the temporary Romanian emigration in the period 2001-2006 (Sandu, 2010), recent studies on the image of Romania and Romanian immigrants have highlighted the image deficit Romanians suffer from in their relationships with European partners. Even in Romania the perceived image of the citizens about themselves and their country contains negative elements. In a recent poll about the nation’s view on Romania›s accession to the Schengen area - a widely debated issue on the recent public discourse agenda 80% of the respondents believe that Romania›s failure to be accepted in the Schengen area is entirely its own, with only 14% of the respondents blaming the European Union instead. Likewise, 78% of the respondents think that Romania is heading in the wrong direction, with 58% of the respondents considering that the European Union is doing the same thing. The data provided by the Eurobarometer in the autumn of 2010 reveal a high degree of pessimism among Romanians compared to other European citizens: Romania occupies the last by one place in terms of its citizens’ degree of life satisfaction (45% of Romanians are satisfied with their life vs. 78% the European average) and ranks among the countries that are the most pessimistic about the evolution of their domestic economies. In 2001, the Romanian Institute for Evaluation and Strategy embarked on survey to assess the magnitude of the patriotic feeling of Romanian citizens, which involved respondents from among the participants to the national day of Romania celebration, organized in two significant cities of the country: Alba Iulia and Iasi. The conclusion is that, despite the feeling of excitement the imminence of the national day would spur, only 65% of the Romanians say they feel animated by the feeling of patriotism and identify themselves with the term “patriot”. In the case of the population of other ethnicities, the degree of such identification is smaller: 29% in Hungarian ethnics, 28% in Roma ethnics and 38% 4 Nicolescu, 2006.


Figure 4. Works made by the children taking part in Constanta Art Museum workshops

other ethnicities. “If we look at age structure, it appears that there is a big difference between generations: the young generation (aged 18-35) admits to only 40.9% of this maximal self-identification, while the majority of the young people aged under 35, i.e. 45%, define themselves as less patriotic. Comparing these figures with that of the older respondents (73.3%) we see that the difference between generational scale catheti is huge.”5 Here is what Vasile Dancu concludes with respect to these figures: “Probably, the period of primary socialization and the different educational model are at the origin of these huge differences. At a closer look at the issue, we might come to the conclusion that we are dealing with a crisis of the educational model the society proposes in terms of patriotic education, in contrast with the cosmopolitical model and the globalization ideologies, which are increasingly present in the media and in the public fora in general”.6 As for the answers to the question about how proud the respondents are to be Romanian citizens, things look pretty good, with one exception: only 23% of the young respondents (including Hungarian ethnics) say they are proud to be Romanians, compared to 57% of the older respondents, with an average of 45% across the whole survey sample. Besides, the pride to be Romanian is strongly felt as a an identification stereotype: the main arguments for feeling proud are basically fatalistic (“ I am born here” or “it’s my homeland”), which, in aggregate, accounts for 51%, while 18% of respondents answered “I don’t know” or did not answer”.7 A survey conducted in 2015 by the Center for Studies Research “Infopolitic” reveals that the surveyed the 5 Dâncu, 2012, p. 2. 6 Dâncu, 2012, p. 3. 7 Dâncu, 2012, p. 3.

Figure 5. Aspect from workshops at Cluj-Napoca Art Museum

Figure 6. Aspect from workshops at Cluj-Napoca Art Museum

feeling of economic nationalism is more intense among the surveyed respondents, with 89% of them saying that they prefer to buy Romanian food, 76% associating the environmental protection with the idea of patriotism and 56% saying they believe that Romanians were more patriotic in Communism times.8 In a context that is hardly conducive to enhancing the genuine feeling of patriotism, we started from the assumption that, if we take the Great Union historical event and the feeling of patriotism as the drivers that sparkled the spirit of patriotism of both the political elite and the population one hundred years ago, we will find out what today›s children think about patriotism and how and whether they experience such feeling. With this in mind, we designed the project as a tool for us to analyze the children’s thoughts, feelings and emotions associated with the notion of country and patriotism. The project proposed a type of educational approach that avoided clichés and encouraged heuristic thinking, seen as a very beneficial for the children in the short and especially in the long run. 8

CSCI, 2015.

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Another component of our project, which helped us identify the project needs, was the issue of the contemporary art and the way the general public in Romania perceives it. Contemporary art in Romania enjoys little popularity and is usually addressing a niche audience of small size and low dynamics. Basically, this type of art does not have a sociologically analyzable audience, and the reasons for that are varied. First of all, art galleries, museums and other alternative settings of this kind do not offer programs or exhibitions for the general public, but for art specialists or collectors only, their intention being primarily to generate artistic discourses in the specialized literature. We base this assertion on the fact that all the exhibition caption-texts (if any or unless they presume a priori that the visitor is already familiar with the artistic concept and therefore needs no further explanations), all the reviews and the presentations regarding contemporary art events are written in a complicated language, paying little or no attention to the general public the text is supposed to reach. In our research on how Romanian contemporary art is perceived by the public, we were hindered by the lack of critical texts referring, however little, to this issue. One of the reasons is that contemporary art galleries, or at least some of them, try hard to exhibit works of art that sell well to art collectors or to anyone who is willing to invest in art or to buy art for art’s sake. The educational objectives that the contemporary art assumes at worldwide level are almost entirely absent from the Romanian artistic milieu.9 The assertions above are confirmed by the results of the last Cultural Consumption Barometers, according to which art museums occupy a modest place 4 (after history, archeology and natural sciences museums), accounting for 54% of the total number of museum visitors in Bucharest.10 It is important to note that this percentage includes also the classical arts, dating back

before the modern and contemporary period. Art consumption in museum environment is therefore extremely low. Given the very small number of art galleries, no studies have been conducted on this type of audience. The national cultural strategy also reveals the lack of an educated audience for visual arts, with strategic thus directions shifting from the “creator and producer (including cultural institutions, seen as cultural infrastructure) to the public/consumer and to the relationship between the artist and the recipient of his creations”11 The analyzes made by the Da’DeCe Association show that, according to data extracted from the database about Bucharest-based families participating in cultural education programs, only 5% of them are interested in contemporary art programs, accounting for the lowest percentage of all types programs initiated and developed by the Association. Following review of the available studies, we have formulated the following project need: In a world where young adults, who are parents of the children making up the target audience, experience from vague feelings of patriotism to chauvinistic attitudes, where children are exposed to a chaotic and populist media and schools teach History in an dull and outof-context way, children would either appropriate the information as it is and mimic the patriotic feelings of the adults, or lose interest in the topic and eventually ignore it completely. The project therefore seeks to trigger honest, prompt and unbiased answers from the children about what they actually feel about their homeland, without giving them ready-made answers, but rather encouraging them to ask questions, be curious and reflect on the issue, this time with the help of artists and in the setting of an art museum offering the visual pretexts associated with the celebrated historic event.

Education through Heritage and Contemporary Art Between Cultural Development and Civil Commitment The project was the result of an introspective effort to identify how we could “translate” the Great Union historical event into an attraction for the children and we ended up investigating the children’s feeling of patriotism. We looked for information and realized that not even adults were sure about their feeling of

patriotism and that children were exposed to media, school or family clichés that were not helping them in any way to be truly sincere and analytical. Once our target established and our conceptual operating framework defined, it was easier for us to identify the action levers. We chose to collaborate with artists, capable to give life

9 Nasui, 2012. 10 Croitoru & Becuț, 2014, p. 154.

11 Mucică, 2014, p. 350.

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to the theoretical idea of patriotism, to help us formulate the survey questionnaire and examine the answers. We believe that meeting with artists encourages children to ask questions, to be curious, to find answers themselves and to change or acknowledge the paradigm of patriotism. When compiling the funding application dossier, besides the conceptual approach related to the project framework and the identified need, we came to the important point where we had to identify our institutional partners and the artists we were going to involve in the project. This time again we relied on the expertise of the Da›DeCe Association in museum education, and especially in art-related education. Thus, the first category of partners we approached consisted of three art museums from three major cities of the country, namely the National Museum of Contemporary Art in Bucharest, the Cluj-Napoca Art Museum and the Constanta Art Museum. The three museums were chosen because they had collections containing works illustrating the Great Union of Romania and the patriotism of those days and, besides, they had exhibitions opened during the project, each of them displaying works of art that were explicitly associated with the historical event and the feeling of patriotism. Then, we started to find the artists to collaborate with for the purpose of the project. Obviously, visual artists were on our priority list. However, for the sake of added value, we decided to contact performing artists as well. Each of the artists approached had in one way or another explored the idea of patriotism in his or her artistic works, to sufficient extent to make them interested in continuing their endeavor in that direction on the occasion of the project and perhaps even clarify the idea better. In addition, the idea that artists should meet with children in different educational settings was a condition in recruiting our artist-partners. The following artists delivered workshops during the project: visual arts - Ana Bănică, Cuzina, Cristina David, Elena Ilash; performing arts - Paul Dunca (dancer, performer), Katia Pascariu (actress), Nicodim Ungureanu (actor) and Ana Tecar (dancer, performer). The idea was to bring two artists from different artistic fields, so as, on the one hand, to provide the children with a diversified experience, and, on the other hand, to make sure that the interaction among artists was inspiring. In addition, Iulia Jordan, a museum educator, was the one who, at the workshops in Bucharest, arranged preliminary meetings between the children and the museum professionals, so that they could be prepared for the events to come.

Another category of audiences were the schools. In this case, in order to make sure that we meet another priority objective of the funding program, namely that of promoting diversity and tolerance, we chose schools whose children were of diverse social categories and preponderantly disadvantaged categories. Thus, we collaborated with: St. Silvestru School from Bucharest, School no. 38 from Constanta and the “Dr. C-tin Angelescu” School from Cluj-Napoca. We also succeeded to involve a number of partners from the media, such as Ghidul Pozneț, Radio Itsy Bitsy, Fabulafia and Replika Cultural Association. From a conceptual point of view, several kick-up meetings were organized, to inform the artists about the project objectives and discuss about perceived patriotism, about the studies mentioned above and explaining the participants to the meetings that the project was not about making those involved become more patriotic, but about investigating the feeling of patriotism as such. Finally, the general objective of the project was formulated as follows: “Investigation of the feeling of patriotism through artistic education actions carried out by artists from different artistic fields.” The specific project objective was formulated as follows: “Exercising the artistic abilities of children and artists through common creative experiences that start from personal experiences and move towards the artistic ones, for the purpose of discovering feelings and thoughts about patriotism”.12 The project generated 22 contemporary art workshops (18 for 6 classes of school pupils and 4 for families with children), 3 exhibitions with children’s works and an online patriotism campaign. The content of the workshops carried out by each two artists investigated creatively the feeling of patriotism through various means. Cristina Davis and Paul Dunca, for example, developed a quiz game that, drawing on the clichés we usually associate with the country, showed pictures from various countries, with the children being asked to indicate which country they thought the image was about. At the end of the game, the children found out, on the one hand, that idyllic landscapes with haystacks and beautifully sunlit hills exist in other countries, too, and, on the other hand, that the colored boxer they saw in one of the movies they were shown was a boxing trainer from Bucharest. 12 We avoid here the confusion in the funding application form, arising form the form requesting to specify the purpose, the general objective and the specific objectives of the project.

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Once challenged, Cognitive dissonance is a step forward in assuming patriotism as an objective feeling. Another type of artistic exercise was that imagined by Cuzina, who proposed the theme of folk stitching for an installation made of sponges colored in the three colors of the Romanian flag. Starting from the national symbols, Paul Dunca and the children mixed the country’s anthem and the children proposed a different type of flag, first as a sketch and then in an as large as life flag, in the form of a collage made of fabric. The artists have assumed their own artistic vision so that the basic social needs of the children may emerge

when the artists involved in investigating the feeling of patriotism.13 The exhibitions that were opened during the project displayed many of the works created by the children, which were selected taking into account the degree of artistic accomplishment, the general appearance of the works and the message they conveyed, work seriality, yet without losing sight of the unique works some of the children created beyond the scope of the main theme. In other words, selection was not a curatorial process, but rather a ranking of the value of all the children participating in the project.

How do Children Relate Themselves to the Idea of “Romanian”? In the project, a study was carried out, aimed at identifying how children related themselves to Romania and the idea of “things Romanian”, in an attempt to assess the degree of patriotism of the participants in the program. The study was an exploratory, non-representative

one, given the small number of participants and the way of classes of school children participating in the project were selected. However, based on this study, research assumptions can be constructed, that could be validated by future sociological research.

Methodology The applied methodology covered several stages. During the first meetings held under the project, the children filled in a questionnaire designed to assess their awareness of the idea of patriotism and how they relate to Romania and to being Romanians. For convenience purposes, the questionnaire contained only a small number of questions, including, in addition to the questions about the respondents’ ID data, a set of 10 Likert scales, meant to identify the way the respondents related themselves to “things Romanian”, and a total of seven short open questions: 1) “What is the significance of the Romania’s national day?, 2) Who is the best Romanian?; 3) Who is the greatest Romanian artist? The remaining four questions were inviting children to associate each of the Romanian, the Hungarian, the German and the American with an animal. At the beginning of the school workshops conducted under the project, almost one hundred questionnaires

were filled in, which is why we cannot speak of a representativeness of the survey results. Overall, almost 100 children aged 11 years in average answered to the questionnaire. Nearly half of the respondents were from Cluj and the rest were, in almost equal percentages, from Bucharest and Constanta, respectively. Evaluating the survey results by class of children, we may notice some similarities in the answers given to the open questions, fact that indicates a fairly high degree of homogeneity and/or of appropriation of the opinions of others. Another limitation of the questionnaire is related to the difficulty of interpreting the connections the children make between ethnics and animals. During the second round of the survey, we conducted several interviews with the artists who had worked directly with children during the project, so that we could understand better the children’s answers can and how they relate to the idea of Romanian.

Results and Discussions The survey results show that the respondents are patriots and are generally attached to the idea of “Romanian”. Children are proud to be born in Romania,

especially those in Constanta, but the differences between localities are insignificant from a statistical point of view. Also, girls tend to be a bit more critical

13 Here are the movies made within the workshops from the three towns: the movie from Cluj Napoca -– https://www.youtube.com/ watch?v=FY4qcqrxOL8&feature =youtu.be; the movie from Constanța – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v =yRgrjvJckGY&feature=youtu.be; the movie from Bucharest – https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qyrJOYjXJLE&feature=youtu.be.

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about Romania, but they like the country and know in a slightly higher proportion the Romanian anthem by heart. The national symbols (the Romanian flag and anthem) are highly appreciated, especially by the children from Cluj-Napoca and in by the girls in this city, in particular. Children say they know the anthem of Romania quite well - to a greater extent those from Cluj-Napoca. In Bucharest, the percentage of children who say they know the Romanian anthem is lower compared to the children from the other cities, although they all love the anthem to the same extent. Mention should be made however that the differences identified may also be related to the desirability of social conformism – children from Bucharest, who, perhaps, wish to be less socially conformant, tend to answer more honestly to this question

The surveyed children enjoy to a fairly high extent living in Romania, but they do not exclude the possibility of living in another country, especially girls and in particular the children from Cluj-Napoca.

Some statistically significant correlations, identified following the assessment of the survey results, are among the following variables: 1. A moderate correlation between the following indicators a. the pride of being a Romanian and the joy of living in Romania (0,64) b. the joy of living in Romania and the desire to live in another country (-0.51) 2. A poor correlation between the following indicators a. the joy of living in Romania and the appreciation of the national anthem (0,39) b. the beauty of the country and the beauty of art (0.39) c. the pride of being Romanian and the desire to live in another country (-0.38) d. the joy of living in Romania and the appreciation of the country’s beauty (0,37)

e. the beauty of the country and the desire to live in another country (-0.36) The analysis of the respondents’ answers to the questionnaire shows that the most influential factor is the joy of living in Romania, which influences to a slightly greater extent the respondents’ appreciation of what is Romanian, compared to their pride of being Romanians.

Overall, children are not particularly interested in making friends outside their ethnic group. Children from the city of Constanta are somewhat more proud of the Romanian art and culture and are also those who indicate a wider diversity of Romanian artists compared with the rest of the respondents. Generally speaking, boys seem to appreciate Romania and its symbols more, yet there are no statistically significant differences in this respect between the boys and the girls. There are no significant differences depending on age. Only a very small influence of the respondents’ age on their knowledge of the anthem has been noticed.

Of the three groups of children, the children from Bucharest associate to the largest extent the national day of Romania with the Great Union. However, the meaning of this day is quite unclear among some children. About half of the children mention the Union, but some of them say the event refers to the union of the Romanian Principalities or of the three peoples. Some speak about Romania’s birthday, yet without being specific. Some of the children simply say that the union is the “national day of Romania.” We notice a fairly low awareness of the significance of the historical event in question and/or a low capacity of the respondents to 79


articulate clearly their idea. For example, some of the children comment as follows: “It means it’s my country and my homeland”; “December 1 means a lot”; “It means I respect my country.” There are also relatively many answers of emotional answers in the case of the respondents in Cluj-Napoca: 6 children say December 1 is a day of joy, 7 children associate the Union Day with love and respect for the country and 4 children answer “it doesn’t mean anything.” The fact that the respondents are quite attached to Romania is proved by their answers to the question “Who is the best Romanian?” – 19 say they or their family members (mother/father) are the best Romanians and seven children answer “we all are”. Two children mention a colleague/friend as the best Romanian and 4 indicate their teacher as the best Romanian. The Romanian personalities the children mention as qualifying for the best Romanian status are Mihai Eminescu (17 answers), Ion Creanga (6), Mihai Viteazu (6), Klaus Iohannis/the President (6), Stefan cel Mare (4), Constantin Brancusi (4), Nicolae Ceauşescu (2), Vlad Ţepeş (1), Aurel Vlaicu (1), Traian Băsescu (1), Liviu Dragnea (1), Andrei Mureşanu (1) and Bianca Adam (1). Some of the children say that actors and the people who love the country are the best Romanians. The respondent-children in Bucharest are the ones mentioning to a greater extent the names of historical and cultural personalities as the best Romanians. Mihai Eminescu ranks first in children’s preferences (over one

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third). At the question “Who is the greatest Romanian artist?” 30 children answered “Eminescu”. Other names mentioned are Constantin Brâncuşi (13), Ion Creangă (4), Andra (2), Nicolae Tonitza (1), Stela Popescu (1), Killa Fonic (1), Carla’s Dreams (1), Florin Piersic (1), George Topârceanu (1) and Ciprian Porumbescu (1). Half of the children in Bucharest indicated C. Brâncuşi as the greatest Romanian artist. The respondents show difficulties in choosing a Romanian artist from a list including Mihai Viteazu, Aurel Vlaicu, van Gogh, Liviu Dragnea or Leonardo da Vinci. It is also worth mention the fact that, quite often, the names of the personalities indicated by the children are misspelled. As a matter of fact, spelling mistakes are apparent in the answers the surveyed school children wrote down in the other sections of the questionnaire, in spite of the fact that they were grades 3-6. Although a qualitative study was not carried out and the questionnaire was applied to a small number of children who participated in this project, the answers received reveal that the children have poor knowledge about the history of Romania and of the Romanian culture. The answers to the survey questionnaire further show that the respondents are fairly high attachment to the country and to the community they are part of, though the reasons for such attachment seem quite unclear in their mind. The participants were asked to associate each of an American, a German, a Romanian and a Hungarian with an animal. The results are as follows:

American

German

Romanian

Hungarian


We may see that the most commonly mentioned animals are the dog, the lion, the cat, the bear, the tiger, the monkey and the eagle, in all the cases. While we may assume that the children perceive positively most of the animals they indicate, in the case of “the dog”, it is difficult to say whether they attach a positive or a negative connotation to this animal: it may happen that some children associate the dog with a bad and aggressive character or, on the contrary, with a positive character, if we take into account the fact that children usually love dogs and prefer dogs to other pets. We believe that in

many of the cases under consideration the connotation is a positive one, considering the fact that the dog is the animal the children associate most often with the nationals listed in this section of the questionnaire, including with the Romanian (who is positively perceived by the respondents, as we may see from their answers to previous questions). Children’s answers to the national-animal association question by city of domicile:

BUCHAREST American

CLUJ-NAPOCA American

CONSTANȚA American

German

German

German

Romanian

Romanian

Romanian

Hungarian

Hungarian

Hungarian

We may see that the respondents’ perception differs greatly from one ethnic group to another, ranging in all the cases from large or powerful animals to small animals; from “manly” animals to “womanly” animals and from pets to beasts. We may say that the images the children associate to the ethnicities under survey are fairly vague and seemingly nuanced. The survey reveals a strong patriotic feeling among the respondent-children, as well as their attachment to their country and its symbols and their joy to live in Romania. The community the children belong to generate slight regional differences. The children who appear to be

most attached to what is specifically Romanian are the children from Constanta. The sense of belonging to a certain ethnic group is pretty strong, which explains why the respondents show, in general, little interest in socializing with members from other ethnic groups. Surprisingly, the children from the most intercultural city of the three cities covered by the survey are the least interest in getting to meet members of another ethnic group. School plays an important role in promoting national values and the knowledge of Romanian history and culture. However, the survey indicates that the 81


respondents have difficulties in identifying famous Romanian artists, in expressing their thoughts and even in writing correctly. This conclusion is consistent with the findings of other studies carried out by the Da’DeCe Association under other artistic education and creativity development projects. The second part of the survey consisted of interviewing the artists involved in the project, where the artists were asked to characterize children in relation with the latter’s interaction with art and knowledge of art in general and of contemporary art in particular, and to describe the way the children responded to the workshops, the children’s points of view, the children liked or disliked most, what they were most curious about etc. Besides, the interview was designed to identify how, in artists’ opinion, the participant-children relate themselves to the idea of homeland and patriotism and whether they think the project has brought any change in connection with these concepts. All artists say they worked very well with the children. The latter are characterized as creative, naive, intelligent, honest, humorous and talented. As far as the children’s knowledge of art and history is concerned, the artists find such knowledge insufficient. Artists consider that (contemporary) art stimulates children: “The children reacted enthusiastically. I mean the children in the classroom. The children who came with their parents seemed less enthusiastic about the workshop. It was as if parents were somehow spoiling their child’s fun and creative energy. With their parents present, the children proved a little shy to experience art through play. Because that’s what the exercise was all about.” (Cristina David) On the other hand, some of the artists interviewed argue they worked better with the children who were accompanied by their parents and who were already familiar with contemporary art, which validates the need to adapt the way children are approached to the children’s background. All artists characterized the children’s knowledge of (contemporary) art as precarious, with a few exceptions,

namely the children who had visited the NMCA with their parents: “The teenagers’ level of interest in art and culture in general seemed to me rather low. The cultural/artistic personalities the children mention as interesting to them are mostly TV “stars”. I think that the project has worked as a trigger factor, stirring the teenagers’ interest to approach contemporary art and to understand how a work of art should be looked at and what the benefits of doing it are.” (Ana Tecar) As far as the children’s idea of patriotism, the artists interviewed believe that the children’s views are biased and are, in fact, mirroring their family background and the opinions and attitudes of their adult entourage: “In my opinion, the children I’ve worked with in the project were too small to make the idea of patriotism a topic of serious discussions with them. On the other hand, though, they were big enough for us to make an idea about what they see and hear about patriotism at home and in their school setting. Unfortunately, it seems to me that what they see and hear are biased and preconceived ideas.” (Katia Pascariu). As for the way the surveyed children relate to their origin as Romanians, the artists claim that the children’s view oscillated between two extremes: the pride vs the shame to be Romanians. The artists mention the children’s preconceived ideas and are skeptical about the workshops’ capacity (given their short duration and brief interaction with children) to help clarify and fine-tune the way the participant children relate themselves to Romania as their homeland. One of the positive effects of the project, as identified by interviewing the participant artists, is that it has given the artists involved the chance to explore a new setting where they can express themselves artistically and interact with others. Some of the artists interviewed admitted they had never had the opportunity to interact with children in an artistic setting and that the experience they had with this project was very rewarding for all participants. They also appreciated the fact that the project gave them the chance to collaborate with other artists, to experiment and share knowledge.

Conclusions The project explored the artist-children-museum interaction in a way that departed from the standard “let’s be patriot and honor our past” kind of attitude, while concentrating instead on a realistic assessment of the feeling of patriotism in children. The project’s 82

impact would have been deeper, had it lasted longer, so as to facilitate a longer exposure of the children to the museum heritage and more encounters with Romanian artists. In other words, what the project could do under the circumstances was to raise a


few and shake down a few preconceptions, yet without succeeding to help the children clarify their idea about patriotism. Even so, we believe that the project reached its goal, because, as the name of the association suggests, questions are more important than answers. The drawback of a cultural project of short duration and limited resources such as this one this one lies precisely in the fact that it was much too short to allow for a broad educational scope. Nevertheless, the project included many experimental activities that, once tested, can be replicated and developed further, such as the collaboration between a visual artist and a performer, the artistic encounters in a museum setting and the approach to the concept of References Croitoru, C., Becuț, A. (coord.) 2015. The 2014 Cultural Consumption Barometer. Culture between local and global, Bucharest: Pro Universitaria. Available online at http://www. culturadata.ro/wp-content/uploads/2014/05/ Barometrul-de-Consum-Cultural-2014.pdf. CSCI. 2015. Romanian nationalism. First part – economic nationalism. Survey conducted in February 2015. Available online at http:// infopolitic.ro/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/ Nationalism-economic-CSCI-feb-2015.pdf (accesată la 22.11.2017) Dâncu, V., „Non tempered patriotism and the politization of an emotion” (f.a.). Available online at http://www.ires.com.ro/uploads/articole/ ires_analiza-raport-patriotism.pdf (accesată la 22.10.2017) Hein, G. 2001. The Challenge and Significance of Constructivism. Available online at http:// george-hein.com/papers_online/hoe_2001.html (accesată la 20.11.2017) Hollinger, D. 1995. Postethnic America: Beyond Multiculturalism, New York: Basic Book. Little, B.J., Shackel, P.A., 2014. Archaeology, heritage, and civic engagement: Working toward the public good. San Francisco: Left Coast Press. Mucică, D. (coord.) 2014. Sectoral Strategy for Culture and National Herigate for the period 2014-2020, The Centre for Reseach and Consulting in the

patriotism from a question rather than an answeroriented perspective and so on. Can a museum education program carried out in a museum setting contribute to civic education? Yes, it can, provided that it is replicated and that followup mechanisms are put in place. The project “I Wonder Why (Da’DeCe) I (don’t) Love my Country” has succeeded to bring the issue of patriotism to the attention of the children and their families and to trigger class and school discussions on a topic that would probably have gone unnoticed in the absence of this initiative. However, changing mindsets and beliefs implies a much deeper process, which cannot be set in motion by merely placing a concept in the limelight, and which therefore needs to be addressed at the level of public policy. Field of Culture. Available onlinle at http://www. culturadata . ro / wp-content / uploads / 2014 / 05 / STRATEGIA_SECTORIALA.pdf. Nasui, C. 2012. The Soft Power of the Art Market, București: Vellant Publishing House. Available online at http://www.cosminnasui. com/2012/08/the-soft-power-of-the-artmarket/ (accessed on 2.11.2017) Nicolescu, L., et al., „Chap. 7. The Image of Romania in the Foreign Media”, in L. Nicolescu et al. (ed.). 2006. The Image of Romania under Magnifying Glass! Country Branding and Rebranding, Bucharest: ASE Publishing House. Available online at http:// www.biblioteca-digitala.ase.ro/biblioteca/pagina2. asp?id=cap7 (accessed on 1.05.2012). Sandu, D, 2010, The social words of Romanian migration abroad, Iaşi: Polirom Publishing House Sardoc, M. 2017, “The anatomy of patriotism”, Anthropological Notebooks, vol.23, no.1, pp.43-55. Available online http://www.drustvo-antropologov. si/AN/PDF/2017_1/Anthropological_Notebooks_ XXIII_1_Sardoc.pdf (accessed 10.10.2017). Raluca Bem Neamu Da’DeCe Association raluca.bem@gmail.com Alexandra Zbuchea The National University of Political Studies and Public Administration azbuchea@yahoo.com 83


European Year of Cultural Heritage

Natural heritage versus cultural heritage

ABSTRACT The starting point for this paper was represented by the current national legislation in the field of heritage protection, especially the way in which some of the assets that are part of the natural heritage are transformed in cultural assets when they become part of a museum’s collection. Another aspect discussed in the paper is represented by the difficulty that occurs for museums that have a natural science specific when applying the criteria for classifying assets in the legal categories of the national mobile cultural heritage. We try to highlight the importance of introducing some changes in the legislation, modifications that would allow a proper classification of all the assets belonging to the national heritage and that would allow natural assets to keep their natural specific even if they are part of a museum’s collection. Key-words: culture, nature, natural heritage, cultural heritage, classification criteria, assets of natural heritage.

Culture and nature Culture The term culture comes from the Latin word colere, which translates into “to cultivate, to honour” and generally refers to human activity. There are a large number of definitions given to the culture, especially from the perspective of anthropology. Anthropologist Edward Tylor is the one who offered the classical definition of culture, namely that “it represents that whole complex that includes knowledge, beliefs, art, morals, laws, customs, and all kinds of capabilities and skills acquired by man as a member of the society”. 84


The definition given by UNESCO considers culture “as a series of distinct features of a society or social group in spiritual, material, intellectual or emotional terms.” At present, there are over 2,000 definitions of culture, all referring essentially to culture as being inseparable from man, symbolizing everything that is a man’s product or is used by man, as well as ways of thinking and of behaviour that is transmitted from one generation to another in any other way than the genetic one. Nature The notion of nature comes from the Latin “natura” and has a very general meaning, encompassing all the forms of life in the universe, the phenomena of the surrounding world, practically everything that is not created by man or made by man’s action. In GEO no. 195/2005 on environmental protection, Article 1, section 41, the environment is defined as

“the set of natural conditions and elements of the Earth: air, water, soil, subsoil, landscape features, all atmospheric layers, all organic and inorganic materials, as well as living beings, natural systems in interaction, including the elements listed above, including some material and spiritual values, the quality of life and the conditions that can influence the welfare and health of man.” In the Emergency Ordinance no. 57 of June 20, 2007 on the regime of protected natural areas, the conservation of natural habitats, wild flora and fauna, the natural environment is defined as “all natural, terrestrial and aquatic physical-geographic, biological and biochemical components, structures and processes, having the quality of preserving life and generating the resources it needs.” Therefore, the term nature or natural environment refers to all earthly (terrestrial and aquatic) elements, but also to generating processes that are of natural, non-anthropogenic origin.

Natural heritage versus cultural heritage The UNESCO Convention on the Protection of the World Cultural, Natural Heritage was adopted in 1972 at the General Conference of UNESCO and was adopted in Romanian legislation by Decree no. 187 of March 30, 1990. In the spirit of this Convention, the following are considered to be cultural heritage: • “monuments: works of architecture, sculpture or monumental painting, elements or structures of archaeological character, inscriptions, grottos and groups of elements of exceptional universal value from a historical, artistic or scientific point of view; • assemblies: isolated or grouped building groups, which, due to their architecture, unity and landscape integration, have an exceptional universal historical, artistic or scientific value; • sites: human works or works resulting from the concurrent actions of man and nature, as well as areas including archaeological sites of exceptional universal historical, aesthetic, ethnological or anthropological value.” In the spirit of this Convention, the following are considered to be natural heritage:

• “natural monuments constituted by physical and biological formations or groups of such formations which have an exceptional aesthetic or scientific uniquely valuable value; • geological and physiographic formations and strictly delimited areas constituting the habitat of threatened animal and plant species, which are of exceptional universal value in terms of science or conservation; • natural sites or strictly demarcated natural areas of exceptional universal value from the scientific, preservation or natural beauty perspective.” Romanian legislation defines national cultural heritage through Law 182 of October 25, 2000 (republished in 2014). According to this normative act, the national cultural heritage represents “the ensemble of the inherited resources, identified as such, regardless of their ownership regime, and which is a testimony and an expression of the values, beliefs, knowledge and traditions that are constantly evolving; the national cultural heritage includes all the elements resulting from the interaction between human and natural factors over time.”

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Also by this normative act the mobile national cultural heritage is defined as consisting of “goods of historical, archaeological, documentary, ethnographic, artistic, scientific and technical, literary, cinematographic, numismatic, philatelic, heraldic, bibliophile, cartographic and epigraphic value, representing material testimonies of the evolution of the natural environment and human relations with it, of the human creative potential and of the Romanian contribution as well as of the national minorities in the universal civilization”. There is an inconsistency in the definition of the two heritage categories, meaning that the national cultural heritage can comprise only those natural elements which, over time, have been modelled or processed by the human factor, therefore include an anthropic fingerprint, while the national mobile cultural heritage can also include components that are totally produced by natural processes as a testimony to their evolution. In order to define the natural heritage, Romanian legislation uses Government Emergency Ordinance no. 57 of June 20, 2007 on the regime of natural protected areas, conservation of natural habitats, wild flora and fauna, which defines natural heritage as “all the physical-geographic, floristic, faunistic and

biocenotic components of the natural environment the importance and ecological, economic, scientific, biogenic, sanogenic, landscaping, recreational and historical cultural value of which have a relevant significance in terms of conservation of floral and fauna biological diversity, of functional integrity of ecosystems, conservation of genetic, vegetal and animal patrimony as well as for meeting life requirements, welfare, culture and civilization of present and future generations.” We find that neither this definition nor the previous one (taken from the UNESCO Convention) makes any specific reference to the mobility of the components of the heritage, deriving from the context that it refers to their localization within the natural environment in which they have formed. It should also be noted that in GEO 57/2007 the term “in-situ conservation” is accepted and defined as “the protection and preservation of the natural heritage assets in their natural environment of genesis, existence and evolution”, but unfortunately no reference is made to the quality of the natural asset when it is relocated and is no longer in its natural environment. The following figures show a series of cultural and natural assets and how they are grouped into the heritage categories mentioned above.

Figure 1. The immobile cultural heritage of archaeological importance in situ becomes the mobile cultural heritage in the museum.

Immobile CULTURA heritage

Mobile CULTURAL Heritage

Sarmisegetusa Regia

Dacian gold bracelets coming from Sarmisegetusa

(Photo: BogdanBrylynskei, Source: Sarmisegetusa Regia Administration)

- the pieces are part of the National History Museum of Romania collection - (Photo: Bereș Ioan)

Law no. 422 of July 18, 2001 on the protection of historical monuments

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Law no. 182/2000 on the protection of mobile national cultural heritage, republished in 2008


Figure 2. In-situ natural heritage (protected flora) becomes mobile cultural heritage of scientific significance in the museum.

NATURAL heritage

CULTURAL heritage

Leontopodium Alpinum (edelweiss – protected species) in Maramures Mountains Natural Park

Leontopodium Alpinum (edelweiss) – classified in the fund category of the Mobile Cultural Heritage – Bucovina Museum Complex. Nature Sciences Department, Suceava – inventory no. 1766 Law 182/2000 on protection of mobile national cultural heritage

(Photo: Gabriel Motica)

GEO 57/2007 on the regime of natural protected areas

Figure 3. In-situ natural heritage (Fossil Reservation) becomes a mobile cultural heritage of scientific significance in the museum.

NATURAL heritage

CULTURAL heritage

Outcrop from Fossil Reservation Chiuybaia

Showcase with floral immissions from Fossil Reservation Chiuybaia at the Mineralogy Museum

(Photo: Bereș Ioan)

GEO 57/2007 on the regime of natural protected areas

From the figures presented above one can observe the inconsistent way of including the heritage assets into the two categories, namely the cultural heritage and the natural heritage.

(Photo: Bereș Ioan)

Law 182/2000 on the protection of mobile national heritage In the case of the assets listed as cultural heritage as shown in Figure 1, the in-situ cultural property (namely the ruins of Ulpia Traiana Sarmisegetusa) is classified as property of the cultural heritage and is subject to Law no. 422 of 87


July 18, 2001 on the protection of historical monuments. The cultural property of such a historical monument (the Dacian gold bracelet), which is currently in a museum, becomes a cultural asset belonging to the mobile cultural heritage and is subject to the Law no. 182/2000 on the protection of the mobile national cultural heritage, republished in 2008. Another eloquent example for this classification, which we consider to be entirely correct, is represented by the works of Constantin Brâncuşi; for example, the “Kiss Gate” in Târgu-Jiu is an asset of cultural heritage and is subject to Law no. 422 on the protection of historical monuments, and other sculptures made by Brâncuşi, such as the “Wisdom of the Earth”, represent

elements of mobile cultural heritage and are subject to Law no. 182. In the other two examples given in Figures 2 and 3, we can see how goods belonging to the natural heritage originally covered by GEO no. 57/2007 on the regime of natural protected areas, when they are taken from their natural environment and become pieces of a museum, not only change the normative act that governs them, falling under the Law no. 182, but fall into a totally different category of heritage, becoming goods of mobile cultural heritage, their origin from the natural heritage not being mentioned.

Criteria for classifying mobile cultural assets Classification of goods that make up the national mobile cultural heritage According to Law no. 182/2000 regarding the protection of the mobile national cultural heritage, the goods that make up the national mobile cultural heritage are classified as follows: 1. Archaeological and historical-documentary assets (includes 12 subcategories); 2. Assets of artistic significance (comprising 6 subcategories); 3. Assets of ethnographic significance (comprising 9 subcategories); 4. Assets of scientific importance, such as: a. rare specimens and collections of zoology, botany, mineralogy and anatomy; b. game trophies; 5. Assets of technical importance (includes 6 subcategories). We consider that this classification of assets belonging to the national mobile cultural patrimony contains a number of shortcomings regarding the inconsistency of the application of the classification criteria. First of all, one of the five categories is defined as being formed of goods of scientific significance - it may mean that the other categories are of no scientific significance, which is not true at all. And, secondly, due to the fact that nowhere in this classification the quality or origin of the natural asset is mentioned, we consider that some assets, generally classified as scientifically important assets, are deprived of this feature. We believe that other criteria for classifying assets that make up the mobile national heritage would be useful, criteria that do not deprive scientifically-important 88

assets of their quality of natural assets and which at the same time do not challenge the scientific importance of cultural assets falling within the other categories. General Criteria for Classifying Mobile Cultural Assets The classification of movable cultural goods, namely the procedure of establishing movable cultural goods that are part of the legal categories of the national mobile cultural heritage, fund and thesaurus, is carried out according to the provisions of Law no. 182/2000 and the Norms for classification of movable cultural assets, approved by GD no. 886/2008. According to the aforementioned rules, the procedure for classifying a mobile cultural asset involves the application of a series of criteria, which are qualitative and quantitative standards on the basis of which the significance or the cultural importance of movable assets is assessed, and the legal category of the national cultural heritage which these goods are part of is determined. The general classification criteria, the first applied, are intended to determine whether an asset is likely to be ranked. These are: age, frequency and conservation status. We consider these criteria to be incomplete and much easier to apply to assets of artistic, historical and ethnographic significance than for those of scientific or natural importance. Once again, the fact that some of the goods belonging to the mobile cultural heritage are not recognized as natural assets is detrimental to them, including in the classification process. For a cultural asset of scientific significance, such as a mineral sample, the application of these general criteria is largely improper.


The first criterion, namely seniority, analyzes whether the cultural asset was created at least 50 years before the date of the expertise. Besides the fact that the legislation stipulates that the cultural asset has been created, so it automatically assumes the intervention of man, this 50-year threshold is depreciative, meaning that the mineral samples can be tens, hundreds or even millions of years old, this threshold not having any relevance to geological processes products. The second general criterion, namely the frequency, implies once again the mandatory intervention of man, by rewarding with scoring the assets belonging to “series” and depending on the presence of these assets on the Romanian territory. We believe that this general criterion could also be applied to assets of natural origin if they appeared in defining the criterion and rarity in the natural environment of the assets. The third criterion - the state of preservation - is the only one that can be applied consistently and unitary to both cultural and natural assets.

After determining that a cultural asset is likely to be ranked, by obtaining a score equal to or greater than 150 points in case of general criteria, they proceed to the determination of the legal heritage category of fund or the treasury, the stage in which the specific criteria of classification are used. The specific criteria for classifying mobile cultural assets are: artistic and documentary value; memorial value; authenticity; author, workshop or school and formal quality. These further insist on the direct involvement of man in the realization, obtaining or attestation of that cultural asset. These specific criteria cannot be applied to the valuation of natural assets and we consider that a process of review and redefinition is imperative. Perhaps the most appropriate solution would be to produce more sets of such specific criteria, which would cover each category of goods and allow them to be valued and judged in terms of characteristics that they possess.

Conclusions and proposals The main conclusion of this approach is that elements of natural heritage, as defined by international and national law, when extracted from the natural (in-situ) environment become part of the mobile cultural heritage, thus losing their identity of natural asset. For patrimony elements that are of natural origin and on which there are no human interventions, we consider that it would be appropriate to introduce another heritage category to treat these ex-situ natural assets without losing their natural asset status. Consequently, we believe that it is useful to delineate as much as possible between the terms “cultural heritage” and “natural heritage”. We also consider it necessary to introduce the concept of “natural ex-situ heritage” or “natural mobile heritage”, similar to the classification of cultural heritage in the immovable and movable categories, in order to include the elements of natural heritage contained in museums or collections. We consider it imperative in a minimum way, in case of the classification of assets that make up the national mobile cultural heritage, the introduction of a category which includes the assets of natural origin, to be called “natural assets” or “assets of natural importance”.

There is a mismatch between the definition of national cultural heritage and the national mobile cultural heritage, in the sense that the latter is wider. We believe that the national cultural heritage must have one definition, and the separation between immovable assets and movable assets should be done solely on the basis of mobility criterion. Regarding the general and specific classification criteria for assets to become components of national heritage, we believe that the current ones can be successfully used for the valuation of cultural assets but are difficult or, some, impossible to apply in case of natural assets. Therefore, for a fair approach to the process of classifying assets belonging to national heritage, we advocate the introduction of generally adjusted criteria and of completely different, customized specific criteria for items representing natural assets (mineral samples, rocks, ores or fossils) by means of which the process of classifying natural assets belonging to national heritage can be properly achieved according to the real attributes of these assets.

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References Tylor, Edward. 1871. Primitive Culture: Research into the Development of Mythology, Philosophy, Religion, Art, and Custom. London: John Murray. Volume 1, page 1. Government Emergency Ordinance no. 195/2005 on environmental protection. Government Emergency Ordinance no. 57/2007 on the regime of natural protected areas, conservation of natural habitats, wild flora and fauna, approved with amendments and completions by Law no. 49/2011. Decree no. 187/1990 on the acceptance of the Convention on the Protection of the World Cultural and Natural Heritage adopted by the General Conference of the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization on November 16, 1972.

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Law no. 182/2000 on the protection of the mobile national cultural heritage, republished 2008. Law no. 422/2001 on the protection of historical monuments, republished in 2006. Government Decision no. 886/2008 for the approval of the Norms for the Classification of Mobile Cultural Assets.

Ioan Denuț Manager Alexandra Sîngeorzan Curator ”Victor Gorduza” County Museum of Mineralogy Baia Mare muzmin@rdsmail.ro, singeorzan.alexandra@yahoo.com


The phenomenon of guided walking tours for locals in Bucharest - revealing the need to disseminate local narratives ABSTRACT Once the privilege of foreigners, of the English speaking city visitors willing to pay significant sums for an authentic Romanian – Bucharestian experience, acquaintance with the city of Bucharest is now available to the its inhabitants. In the past few years, several invitations to guided tours with various themes have begun to appear in social media, and most of them for free. These events register a significant audience participation in some cases. An example in this case would be the thousands of participants (on different rounds of course) at the „La pas prin București” guided tours, organized by the ARCEN association ever since 2010, who are an important presence in the city’s cultural landscape with various projects that promote heritage education among young people, and also among the general population. This article presents the guided tour phenomenon as a mark of an inhomogeneous movement of urban discovery or rediscovery by associating narratives to certain locations, riddled with history, associated with diverse personalities, practices and communities, that is also progressively contouring itself as a public policy, although it’s at an incipient stage (see the guided tours directed at neighbourhood discovery as events that were integrated in the proposal of Bucharest as the European Cultural Capital of 20212). Key-words: : guided tour, Bucharest, Bucharest 2021, local heritage, NGO

What are guided walking tours and who organizes them? Guided walking tours are events where participants are travelled by a guide to various small, easy-to-reach city objectives, providing them with generalized or specialized information depending on the topic of the tour - which can be focusing on locationrelated personalities, a certain type of architecture, etc. At a closer look, we can see that the initiators of these event-walks in Bucharest come from the non-governmental sector. In fact, there is no history of events directed at the entire population of Bucharest by a state institution. Of course, this does not mean that the institutions do not practice guided tours, but they do it in a small frame for those they serve. For example, faculties organize guided tours of Bucharest for newly 1admitted 2 students or foreign scholars coming for exchanges, but even then events 1 ARCEN – Romanian Association for Culture, Education and Normality (online) http://www.arcen.info/ portofoliu/ 2 Bucharest 2021 (online) http://www.bucuresti2021.ro/

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are generally managed and supported by members of student associations and very little by faculty staff. As for established cultural institutions such as museums, we know that they organize guided tours on the premises, not outside, although a thematic guide of Bucharest achieved by museum experts would be a wonderful complement to a temporary or permanent exhibition. Thus, non-governmental associations are the primary organizers of such events for Bucharest and not only, each adopting a topic according to the objective of their activity. For example, we have the Art History Association3, which aims to promote culture, architecture and local memorialism, and regularly organizes guided tours against a fee on architectural heritage divided by architects such as the Edmond Van Saanen- Algi” walk or „Albert Galeron Urban Trail”. Another example is the Calea Victoriei Foundation4, which has a similar objective and offers, besides courses in varied cultural fields, guided tours on Calea Victoriei, the Old Centre or the Bellu Cemetery.5 Of course, depending on sponsorship or affiliation to other events that provide funding, guided tours offered by these associations can be completely free.

The content of a local walking tour in Bucharest Guided tours are built on specific objectives (houses, streets, parks) that can be subsumed into specialized or extensive themes. There is a big difference between a walking tour of Bucharest that will of course address the city’s famous objectives and implies the total lack of previous knowledge of the city, and one about Calea Victoriei that proposes a profoundly specialized historical incursion. In fact, the events of the latter type predominate in the offer for the locals because they are built on the idea of a well-known local public place, while the others are rare and are directed towards visitors from outside Bucharest, Romanian speakers. Also guided tours with general topics in English are a reserved offer almost exclusively for the foreigners who visit the city. There are many online English articles (and dating back 3 Art History Association (online): http://asociatiaistoriaartei.blogspot. ro/2017/10/tururi-noiembrie.html 4 Calea Victoriei Foundation (online): https://www.fundatiacaleavictoriei. ro/luna-bucurestilor-editia-a-vi-a-2016/ 5 Ibidem. https://www.fundatiacaleavictoriei.ro/descopera-la-paspovestea-cimitirului-bellu/

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to the ‚80s and’ 90s) that provide concrete and clear indications on how to best organize a guided tour to promote local heritage, how objectives and distance must be considered, how to document and select information that might be of interest to everyone who will participate in them, etc. An example would be John A. Veverka’s article „Planning interpreting walking tours for communities and related historic districts”6. I also mention it in the hope that it will inspire readers to create such an own experience, tailored to their interests.

The public and the economy of the experience Since there are no official dates for locals to take part in these guided tours, especially from those who organize them, to discover a tourist profile in a city, we limit ourselves to some deductions from the methods chosen for their promotion, where the use of social media networks prevails. For a less active person in the social media area, it may be difficult to find out about them unless they are exposed to media exposure, such as ARCEN - the Romanian Association for Culture, Education and Normality, so we can more than assume that this type of loisir option is the social media user›s privilege, who is proving a real interest in such activities. In the 1990s, Joseph Pine and James Gilmore7 predicted the arrival of another type of economy, of experience, after that of services, where consumers would associate the acquisition of goods with experience. This will mark people’s lack of interest in purchasing goods, as opposed to the perception that this offers status and happiness, and the focus on experiences such as travel, volunteering, etc. as a means of fulfilment. They will head towards them as they are associated with memories, and the way people remember an event offers more satisfaction than simply having one thing (even if it is the symbol of a social status) that you can upgrade anytime. Nowadays we are talking about the gradual entry into this type of economy after studies conducted on international consumer patterns, such as the one made by Barclaycard8 on English consumers showing that in 6 Veverka J.A. Planning interpretative walking tours for communities and related historic districts (online): https://portal.uni-freiburg. de/interpreteurope/service/publications/recommendedpublications/veverka_planning-interpretive-walkingtours.pdf 7 Pine J., Gilmore J. (1998) Welcome to the Experience Economy. Harvard Business Review (online): https://hbr.org/1998/07/ welcome-to-the-experience-economy 8 The Guardian. Just do it: the experience economy and how we


2016, people have spent more on experiences such as going to restaurant, bar, film, and theatre lessons than in the previous year, and less on electronics, cars and other similar goods than in the previous year, which could explain the increasing interest of the local audience for heritage discovery experiences in a more general, global sense. At the same time, the economy of the experience is encouraged by social media.9 Pictures posted on accounts that depict a person at a festival or on a beach receive more likes than a photo of a detained object, whether it owns to a renowned brand, which motivates users to come out in the world and experiment, in the sustained effort to build and maintain a certain type of presence and image. It is inconceivable that, in addition to the fact that the tours offer good opportunities to capture experiences in the pictures, there are also special tours devoted to photography.

The Grand Tour of Europe and the Free Tours phenomenon in Europe Guided tour practice is old and has its origins in the tradition of the 19th Century Grand Tour10 practiced by wealthy young Europeans as part of their maturing and becoming, and their guide was a tutor with the necessary knowledge. The Grand Tour included sites in England, France, Switzerland, Italy, Malta and Greece, and the clear purpose of this activity was to initiate the young man in the past of the Greek-Roman and European Renaissance civilization, knowledge without which he could not fully be considered an adult in his social circles. In contemporary times, local pedestrian tours have as direct inspiration the free pedestrian tours, but based on donations from major cities around the world (dating back to 2004), aimed at foreign tourists who enjoy tremendous success and continuity if we take the TripAdvisor ratings.11 As we know, practices are disseminated and adopted more easily in the current context of free movement in the countries of Europe, so that a particular practice found in another country can turned our backs on ‘stuff’. Online: https://www.theguardian.com/ business/2017/may/13/just-do-it-the-experience-economy-andhow-we-turned-our-backs-on-stuff 9 Ibidem. 10 Towner, J. THE GRAND TOUR A Key Phase in the History of Tourism. Annals of Tourism Research. Vol. 12 (online) http://www. sciencedirect.com/science/journal/01607383/12/3?sdc=1 11 Tripadvisor is a well-known internationally-ranked information site.

be quickly adopted by Romanian NGOs long before they penetrate national policies. As such, there is also the Cultour Association12 that offers tours of this type - Walkabout Free Tour.13 THowever, they also organize free themed walks for the locals at various cultural events, such as the George Enescu Tours under the auspices of the George Enescu Festival or the tour guided in the old Armenian Chapel at the Armenian Street Festival. The international phenomenon of free tours, but with donations, may appear to be slightly contradictory, but it is based on the economy of experience, where it takes precedence as a generator of value and profit a posteriori - in which it opts for a certain kind of performance of the guide, leaving aside the historical information presented. Some go on and set up real small plays along the itinerary, somehow mingling with the promenade theatre. In Romania, for example, because ARCEN’s tours are almost exclusive, the guides wear hats that remind us of the perfume of the era. International tours based on donation generally rely on stark documentation - which becomes obvious when asking for additional clarifications – picantry elements, jovial and humorous presentation, and we might even say that on the charisma of the guide. And the payment is based on experience, what the visitor considers that the guide deserves for that effort, and here they may or may not receive money. If we were to consider only the presence of participants in the ARCEN tours - the only tours mentioned in the media14 - we can say that the association correctly speculated the needs of the locals, reporting practices from other countries to the local public and thus implementing a „free form” that proved to be a success. Even so, returning to the number of participants registered in the tours of the association, we might think it is a common practice in Bucharest, but this is not true. From the mere fact that the activities of this type of other associations are not addressed in the local press up to the visual absence of these tours in the public space, at any moment, all seem to suggest the contrary. Anyone who travelled through Western capitals surely 12 Asociația Cultour (online) https://www.asociatia-cultour.ro/ 13 Walkabout Free Tour (online) https://bucharest.walkaboutfreetours. com/ 14 PRO TV News. An unusual pedestrian track has managed to attract people of all ages: „Prin Bucureștii lui Eliade” (online) http:// stirileprotv.ro/stiri/travel/un-traseu-pietonal-inedit-a-reusit-saatraga-oameni-de-toate-varstele-prin-bucurestii-lui-eliade.html

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noticed groups of tourists gathered around a guide, or in Bucharest you never see it (not even the foreign ones), from which we can assume that there are few organized. And yet, in Bucharest there were events that led the narrative of a guided tour to another level: either they came from the tradition of performance through a sensory immersion in the old houses that belonged to a personality, facilitated by a performing guide in the Sensory Map of Bucharest15, or through the popularization of a neighbourhood or community

the history of which could be of interest only to the inhabitants of the community, such as Pantelimon Tour with the Make a Point Association16 or Enter the Red Dragon Detour - a walk through the Red Dragon Complex – within Bucharest Disaster Detour17 events (Bucharest, 2021). Basically, there is no particular limit to the desire for urban exploration of the inhabitants, which is imposed only by the documentary resources and inspiration of the initiating agent.

Conclusion The article attempts to highlight an important but neglected need of the inhabitants of Bucharest to discover narratives of the city, old or contemporary, to associate a particular urban place with a certain story and, by extension, to create an experience or to add to an experience (if they have previously interacted with the places visited), in the idea that this achievement will also generate some measures or initiatives at the level of local authorities. The activities programmed by ARCUB (Bucharest Cultural Centre) on behalf of the City of Bucharest under the name Invisible City on the occasion of Bucharest’s proposal for Cultural Capital in 2021, which included both tours and conferences or workshops aimed at the awareness of the local histories and situations proposed by cultural NGOs, were a good start, but this was lost when Timisoara was selected as a Cultural Capital.

developing a heritage tourism for the inhabitants. Another dimension of this phenomenon that suggests a real public interest in heritage and events related to its presentation, promotion and even performance is the fact that it reveals the need for a clear education policy in the spirit of awareness of the local heritage by the inhabitants of Bucharest, and also by the inhabitants of any Romanian city in general.

15 16 17

 Dana Nicolae nicolae_dana_f@yahoo.com

I am not in favour of the idea that these guided tours be treated in an elitist sense and remain the advantage of a certain group in the society, namely the social media user, but for these to reach other groups in the society that would benefit as much, or perhaps even more, from free or paid tours. At the same time, these experiences strengthen the ties that local people have with their home or adoption town, associate less observable places in a normal promenade with a romance that only stories can offer, and not, ultimately, impose on the public some respect for their own culture by presenting it firstly, and secondly, by being present on the spot in a context of discovery and appreciation. We add the aspect of getting closer to the surrounding things and facilitating an understanding of the evolution and events that have taken place over time, as well as the way the participants are affected by them. There are practices that prove the importance of 94

15 Sensory Map of Bucharest (online) http://hartasenzoriala.com/ 16 Make a point: Tours to rediscover Pantelimon (online) https://www. bucuresti2021.ro/portfolio_page/duminica-28-iunie-1000-1230explorare-prin-plimbare-make-a-point-trasee-de-redescoperire-apantelimonului/ 17 Bucharest Disaster Detour (online) http://bucharestdisasterdetour. com/


Professional ethical codes and museum ethics

THE STATUTE OF SPECIALISTS IN MUSEUMS BETWEEN FORMATION AND REGULATION

ABSTRACT Having as starting point the ethics and the ethic codes in museum professions, the paper presents current inconsistencies in the Romanian legislation on museums and movable cultural heritage, with regard to the regulation of the accredited specialists’ practice, including their rights and obligations and the nature of their legal relation with museum organisations. The article suggests that new legal provisions are needed in order to improve the selection and accreditation procedure for movable heritage experts, to clarify their legal status with both rights and obligations and to unify the financial retribution, at national level, for the freelance museology practitioners. Also, the paper emphasizes the need for a strong professional training nation system in the field of museums for staff at entry level and through their career. Key-words: museum, ethics, professional code, museum professions, museum legislation

The issue of professional ethics in the museum field can only be approached from the perspective of the Ethical Code of the International Council of Museums, and therefore we will continue to remember the main coordinates of this reference document for any specialist in the museum system: the museum preserves, interprets and promotes the natural and cultural heritage of humanity, the museum protects the collections that it holds for the benefit of the entire society and for the purpose of its progress, the museum is the holder and promoter of knowledge, the museum offers opportunities for the appreciation, understanding and management of natural and cultural heritage, collaborating with the communities whose heritage serves them and in which the heritage regains its origins, the museum operates in respect of law and professionalism.1 1 ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums – http://icom.museum/fileadmin/user_upload/pdf/Codes/ICOM-codeEn-web.pdf. (Accesed on 9th of november 2017)

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The ICOM Code of Ethics has been widely adopted at international level, with some states and museum associations or museum-related professions conceiving their own rules and statutes. We will continue to refer to the current situation in our country, in terms of the status of specialists in the museum system and, more broadly, of the mobile cultural heritage. In addition to ICOM’s Code of Ethics, which has no legal force but only the sanctioning measure to exclude members who violate the principles and recommendations of the Code, the only measures to control the way in which the museum professions are exercised remain those in the Code of Conduct for Contract Staff from public institutions and the accreditation rules for experts, conservation specialists and restorers. In the first case, that of the Code of Conduct for staff of public institutions2, sanctioning measures (disciplinary, property-related and, in conjunction with other normative acts, penalties) for professional deviations apply only to specialists in the public system, not to those in the private system; to those who operate independently. The principles laid down in the Code of Conduct, in addition to those relating to public administration relationships with citizens, include professionalism – a principle according to which contract staff has the duty to perform their duties with responsibility, competence, efficiency, fairness and conscientiousness3 – and moral integrity - for which the contract staff are forbidden to seek or to accept, directly or indirectly, for themselves or for another, any benefit or moral or material benefit4, both of which are of major relevance to the museum professions, but not easily identifiable in terms of competence, in the absence of standards for defining and quantifying it. Accreditation rules for experts, conservatives and restorers apply only to those specialists who carry out activities involving movable cultural property assets - as is well known, the number of classified assets represents a very small part of the total number of heritage items in public and private institutions. Thus, the total number of cultural goods owned by 2 Law no. 477/8 November 2004 on the Code of Conduct for Contract Staff in Public Authorities and Institutions, published in Official Gazette no. 1105/November 26, 2004. 3 Law no. 477/2004, art. 3, lit. c). 4 Law no. 477/2004, art. 3, lit. e).

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Romanian public museums was of 14,973,8075, in 2015, currently the number of classified goods being of 52,528.6 What happens to other goods, what are the guarantees of a proper, professional protection? An honest answer is that there are no such guarantees. Moreover, there is no assessment of the human resources active in the museum system and their level of initial and continuing training. Just as there is no coordinated national plan in this respect. Vocational training is limited to several forms of university education in the national system, of which the museology is missing as a full cycle, of its own – bachelor’s degree, master, doctorate. Courses for curators, conservation experts, restorers, curators, museum education specialists, and custodian managers organized by the National Institute for Cultural Research and Training depend on the financial availability of museum organizations and, it must be said, on the availability of managers to support specialized staff training - in our recent past, a long period of budget constraints has also affected this aspect of the museum sector, along with limiting competitions for vacant positions in institutions. In addition to the general obligation in the Labour Code7, namely that the employer must periodically (every two or three years, as the case may be)8 ensure the participation of employees in vocational training programs, an obligation that cannot be met in the absence of funds, no other legal norm does ensure proper initial and permanent training of museum staff. The Ministry of Culture has in this context the ethical obligation and the legal quality to establish a normative framework for the training of museum staff in terms of both initial training at the time of employment in the respective institutions (an ideal that is not difficult to achieve would be the elaboration of an „introductory package” for new staff that is mandatory and available free of charge to all museum organizations and that contains both 5 National Institute of Statistics, “Activity of cultural and artistic units - 2015”, http://www.insse.ro/cms/sites/default/files/field/ publicatii/activitatea_unitatilor_cultural_artistice_in_anul_2015. pdf (Accessed: November 9,2017). 6 National Heritage Institute - online database: http://clasate.cimec.ro/ (Accessed: November 10, 2017). 7 Law no. 53/January 24, 2003 - Labour Code, published in the O.G. no. 72/February 5, 2003, republished in O.G. no. 375/May 18, 2011, as subsequently amended and supplemented. 8 Law no. 53/2003, Article 194.


theoretical information and guidelines for immediate practical activities, adaptable to each organization) as well as continuous training, permanent connection to the new coordinates of world museology, in theory, but also as good practices. It is difficult (but not impossible) to achieve a stable academic framework through the collaboration of the Ministry of Culture and National Identity with the Ministry of National Education, but the infrastructure, resources and tradition of the National Institute for Research and Cultural Training are functional instruments through which the Ministry of Culture performs this task - to protect the cultural heritage by providing a competent professional body. Professional ethics starts from knowledge and from applying it to the informed appreciation of concrete, immediate, problematic situations that require prompt and correct solutions, correctly implemented. As in the case of other fields of activity that serve the public interest, in the field of museums it is necessary to transpose principles, basic concepts and good practices into national legal norms that ensure professional training and development, basic rights and obligations of museum specialists and the organizational and procedural framework of their activity - including by the norms of operation of museums, a normative act still over a decade late that should have been issued in application of Law no. 311/2003 of museums and public collections. This set of staff training measures would be the foundation for a higher stage: professional codes or special statutes for qualified staff and top specialists - what we call today „accredited experts�. As I have also stated in the process of elaborating the Theses of the Future National Cultural Patrimony Code, the current system is deficient, if not erroneously, conceived, allowing individuals (I emphasize through this formulation the quality of individuals, private persons, rather than affiliated to specialized institutions) by assessing their qualities as specialists in a scientific field that is circumscribed to the categories of cultural goods existing in museums - for example, history, art, ethnography, and so on - to carry out administrative, procedural and legal consequences beyond their scientific content; these activities are to carry out expertise, including for courts, notarial offices and criminal investigation bodies, and not only to draw up expertise and

evaluation reports under various circumstances and purposes. For this type of activity, the skills are neither required as mandatory condition nor checked, as there is no training program for this kind of tasks - because these are tasks, legal obligations of persons who obtain such accreditations, and they cannot refuses, for example, the requests of the public authorities mentioned above. What are the consequences of this inconsistency between accreditation criteria and accreditation goals? Some hamper the ranking process, prolong its duration, and increase bureaucracy - expert reports of mistakenly classified ranking files are not a rarity; in other cases, they are violations of criminal law rules - the case of locomotives ranked illegally in the early 2000s9; is well-known; there are also cases in which the experts did not respond adequately to the demands of the courts, being subject to sanctions from these.10 Another unregulated issue is the relationship between persons accredited as experts, conservatives or restorers and the organization in which they work under an individual employment contract. Given that accreditation is granted to a natural person, at its request and in consideration of its own professional qualities, it does not in any way impose obligations on the individual in relation to his employer who is in fact a third party in that legal relationship. It can therefore be appreciated that a museum organization cannot impose on its own employees, if they have not been contracted under this condition and if they have not drawn such tasks in the job description, carrying out activities in their capacity as accredited experts. Similarly, neither does the Ministry of Culture, the accrediting authority, have a leverage other than civil contracts to engage in specific activities carried out by experts, nor do they have no legal obligation to respond to the request of the Ministry of Culture. The unitary remuneration of experts, by setting common national rates, can be considered not only as a matter of good and fair organization of the 9 The classification of 34 locomotives by the Order of the Minister of Culture and Religious Affairs no. 2779 / 3.12.2004, with the approval of the National Commission of Museums and Collections, on the basis of erroneously drawn expert reports. 10 For example, in File no. 6198/94/2014 pending before Buftea District Court, having as object offenses against the law on the protection of the national mobile cultural heritage - Law no. 182/2000.

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system and of this specific activity, but also as a matter of ethics, not just professional. The practice of concluding civil contracts between museums and experts, specifically with the purpose of drawing up expertise for the classification of movable cultural goods, is guided, in terms of remuneration, based on the financial availability of museums,

on negotiation, sometimes on the young custom established on this young market. At the limit of ethics and in order to avoid the occurrence of conflicts of interest, the museums have contracted accredited specialists. A norm to clarify these issues and to ensure transparency and financial efficiency in this direction would be welcomed.

Conclusion It is right to say that affirming the need for new rules in the field of cultural heritage protection is an additional burden for an already existing over-regulation, at least in terms of the number of normative acts (14 main acts in the field of museums and of the mobile cultural heritage, without including the acts of modification thereof). However, in addition to the necessary simplification in order to improve and streamline current provisions, the immediate reality

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shows that additions are necessary and the status of museum specialists is a natural complement to the better functioning of the cultural heritage protection system. Alis Vasile contact@alisvasile.ro


Particularities of open museum ethics

ABSTRACT Museum`s social value lies today not only in its role as facilitator of dialogue between generations and cultures but also in that of promoter for participation of various public categories in decisions regarding museum activity within the community. Starting from this premise, this article summarizes some landmarks in museum ethics evolution in order to highlight, on one hand, its constants in cultivating public`s moral and aesthetic sense and, on the other hand, its variables in terms of training a pluralist and participatory perception of all visitors. We will also try to look at the consequences of conjunction and disjunction of these ethical factors, which welcome a growing range of social needs. The logical and factual outcome of this analysis, which we highlight in this article, is the opening of museum ethics, on one hand, to cultivate active listening and, on the other, to stimulate direct involvement. To the extent that it meets both demands, contemporary museum ethics becomes a bridge between professional ethics – a tribute to universalism of the past – and participatory ethics – a reflex of modern deontological pluralism.

Key-words: Museum Ethics, Open Ethics, Participatory Museum, Museum With No Frontiers, Public Participation, Social Responsibility 99


Introduction

Museum’s Concern for Ethics

Museums are today more concerned with unconventionally attracting visitors and engaging in social dynamics, by rethinking how to value their physical exposure space and, in parallel, the online space reserved for virtual applications - in turn, in a stimulating expansion. Thus, the museum has begun to experience spectacular managerial changes, both in terms of improving its employees, and especially by widening the audience while organizing innovative activities. The most commonly cited example is the Whitworth Museum, which is part of the Manchester community where programs are centred on ongoing dialogue with the public, focused on organizing courses and seminars, as well as on stimulating visitors’ participation and creativity.

The idea of “museum ethics” emerged in 1902 when the New York Times published an article that discussed the practice of selling goods belonging to museum collections. Since then, specialists and practitioners are invited to answer the question “What is the ethics of museums?” and, next to the question, “What is the most appropriate way for museum ethics to be put into practice in this professional field?”

We find that the new mission and the extensive functions of the museum have already become operational, which has transformed this institution into a true incubator of creativity, at the service of social change. In addition, because museum functions have evolved along with the need for communities to receive diversified cultural services, the museum has managed to integrate into the dynamics of change. In spite of this development, the museum also managed to preserve the fundamental notes of its traditional role. This dual feature has turned the museum from an island institution into one actively involved in community issues.1 Also, according to its new objectives, the museum institution has become responsible for both informal and non-formal education, in the spirit of preservation of memory, as well as for thematic influence of the social agenda. In turn, museum staff understood that they need to integrate into a new trend of relating to diverse audiences, imposed by changing the style of communication that characterizes the new managerial paradigm. According to this, the museum is a proactive instrument and directly involved in social change, including in the so sensitive mentality plan. In this context, where is the place of the traditional values and principles that established the ethical vocation of the museum? And if museum ethics is, in turn, constantly changing, then how can it help social progress? These are key questions that this article tries to answer, while also providing some analytical milestones for a new debate topic. 1 Niţulescu V. Ş. (2014), p. 8.

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Initial responses of specialists have highlighted that, in addition to its normative value, a museum code of ethics also has a special significance in terms of structuring a norm of professional conduct.2 Then, by coagulating ethical concerns in the form of wider Museum Codes of Ethics, the idea of moral accountability of museums to their audiences has become more and more accentuated. At the same time, even though the principles covered by codes of professional ethics within museums have come to the attention of relatively recent specialists, museum ethics has quickly become a way of action as well as providing the right solutions to solve internal problems of the museum. Therefore, museum ethics may vary depending on the mission of a museum, on the specific circumstances in which its problems arise, as well as the people involved, both inside and outside the museum.3 So, organizationally, we can talk today about strengthening the stage of revaluation of museum space by integrating it into the general environment of the society in which it operates. Regarding the legislative framework, the expectations and receptiveness of different audiences, the staff and funding limitations, the involvement of decisionmakers, etc., these are other elements that the museum must meet through a dynamic appropriate to social progress. Based on this dynamics, which is a benchmark (along with initiatives, involvement, style of communication, partnerships with other civil society organizations, etc.), periodic updating of museum ethics codes is being used. This update becomes essential to lay the foundations for new sustainable strategies for 2 3

Pisică G. (2012), pp. 379-382. Yerkovich S. (2016), pp. 44-49.


attracting visitors to museums. Thus, museum ethics becomes, on the one hand, relevant to society - by reflection - and, on the other hand, a factor of social innovation - by progression. Generally, in a museum, ethics can be defined as a discursive process aimed at identifying the values and guiding principles for the overall activity of this type of institution, and where ethical principles are usually stated separately.4 In turn, museum management has realized that the application of a robust, yet flexible, ethical museum ethics will be able to contribute to an increasingly significant impact of the museum on the community it serves. This impact must be felt not only at the educational level (by the young and the elderly alike), but also in the strengthening of the social structure, the museum being a meeting place for different cultures.5 Museum marketing studies have revealed that the category of people who, from the museum’s perspective, is made up of non-visitors, that is, the public who is not even interested in culturaleducational programs or even entertainment must also be considered. Sustainable (and obviously openly) museum ethics must also be taken into account by them because the democratization of the museum act means widening the museum’s offer to developing attractive cultural and educational programs for these categories (referred to in a little uninspired way as non-public6). It is recognized that in order to fulfil its role / social roles, the museum needs ethical standards. However, affirming the need to take into account the specific context and particularities of each museum when formulating its ethical code is still the subject of current debates. They often address the evolution of social and cultural norms which museum ethics must take into account, although social evolution cannot be anticipated with sufficient precision due to its multiple variables. According to all the recommendations of the bodies involved in the life of museums, their codes of ethics must ensure the increase of public confidence in their work. The social role of museums as agents of social cohesion must also be increased, serving the interests of 4 5 6

Desvallées A., Mairesse F. (2010), p. 33. NEMO (2014), pp. 5-7. Zbuchea, A., Ivan L. (2008) p. 37.

various categories of people in a transparent and non-discriminatory manner.7 At present, we can see that these ethical requirements appear to be transposed even to the level of Management Objectives for a museum and, of course, of the Museum Management Plans that are proposed periodically for approval. These documents clearly state that a museum must adopt an ethical code based on firm ethical principles in agreement, on the one hand, with the codes of ethics adopted in the International Conventions on cultural actions and of cultural heritage and, on the other hand, depending on the dynamics of change in the society. Of course, this change must be properly digested and not just applied for the sake of change, so as not to fall into the trap of transforming the museum into a populist simple recreational or entertainment temple.8

Codes of ethics already written In this respect, the International Council of Museums (ICOM) Code of Ethics is best to reflect the general principles accepted by the international museum community as regards the guidelines for minimum professional standards in museum practice.9 However, the professional ethics of museums is more than a set of principles and norms of amorphous relationship because it is based on the notion of responsibility, shared both at the individual level and of the whole organization, as well as at the level of the opening of the museum towards public. Based on such professional ethics, the museum can meet both organizational and widespread social expectations - by receiving social signals. Moreover, in order to meet the public and respond to the cultural needs of the community, museum ethics proves its ability to become accountable, both individually and socially. This is not only a process of ethically valuing the new mission of the museum in the society but also a permanent bargaining between the increasing professional level of the museum staff needed to cope with new media and social issues that keep the public away of the museum. These issues, once taken up in a museum’s programs, gain new resonance in the ethical field, which can lead to 7 8 9

Van-Praet (2016), p. 67. Bishop C. (2015), p. 5. ICOM (2014, , updated).

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a better understanding of them at a global level. However, in order not to idealize the possibilities of museum ethics, it must be said that it may remain somewhat sterile when it does not take into account the social dynamics and projection of the expected effects. Some critics of professional ethics even argue that any kind of institutional ethics is nothing more than a manipulation technique introduced by management theory to fix a mission or more, while bypassing the duty to motivate staff. Therefore, a code of ethics applicable to museums, beyond the expression of principles that affirm common values for all stakeholders, seeks to establish a mode of respect not only of the majority culture but also for the most vulnerable groups in society. Although there is no single answer to the question “Why museums need a code of ethics?”, the code of ethics tool offers these institutions the possibility of organic integration into new social realities. Also, this document is a permanent source of good practice that helps the museum rethink the way in which it is (or is not) able to manage its interconnections with the society. After all, museum ethics refers to the way we treat our site, the buildings that are built, the artefacts that give life to the buildings, and all those we come into contact with while we are here.10 Just because they look at the interaction and take into account the public’s expectations, the Museum’s ethical codes must be reviewed so that the public always feels the first beneficiary not only of the museum’s services but also of museum ethics. Also, operating in an open circuit, it must be, on the one hand, strict enough to ensure the sustainability of heritage conservation and, on the other hand, lax enough to allow and even encourage the participation of visitors in as much as possible many dimensions of the contemporary world.11 Essentially, a Museum Code of Ethics is more than just a guide to good practice within this institution. It, of course, provides general guidelines for promoting crucial values for social cohesion, social development, tolerance and mutual respect, as well as guidance on the real challenges raised by new socially involved museum practices.12 10 Museums Associations (2016), pp. 20-22. 11 ICOM (2014, updated). 12 Pabst K., Johansen E., Ipsen M. (2016), p. 10.

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Ethical Consequences of New Museum Concepts Here are at least three theoretical contributions, which still exert an overwhelming influence in the field of museology, both on the researchers and on the dedicated practitioners. These are the works signed by Robert R. Janes, Nina Simon and Gary Edson. Robert R. Janes is the author of the work Museums Without Borders, a museological plea that manages to demonstrate that these institutions have a significant role in society, a role that far outweighs the conventional perception. The author emphasizes the extension of the museum’s role, starting with the need to preserve the identity of a community and reaching the possibility of the museum to create the future of those who are part of the community. Of course, this is only possible through the genuine involvement of the museum in social issues and aspirations, implicitly by calling on an ethic that encourages activism and responsibility, and which also allows the acceptance of alternative points of view, even in the most important issues.13 Janes’ vision can be characterized as a globalist one in which the museum community is called upon to revise its evolutionary role, especially in the context of contemporary environmental, social and ethical challenges, as well as in the self-modelling of the purpose of museums in society. On the other hand, Nina Simon, in the “Participatory Museum”, proposes solutions to stimulate the participation of community members and visitors to turn the museum institution into a more dynamic and relevant place, both from a cultural and social perspective. These solutions are extremely important for museum managers who want to practice organizational change based on ideas of accelerated transformation. The participatory museum is a concept that can provide visitors with a wealth of creative opportunities for them to actually experience the feeling of participation through an exchange of ideas that will help (re) build the community and 13 Janes R. (2016), p. 216.


thus the space physically and spiritually defining a museum.14 Of course, there are multiple consequences of a profound social involvement on the part of the museum, but here we are interested in the ethical aspects of restoring its mission. On the basis of this, from the perspective of the museum institution, the creation of social bridges towards public involvement becomes not only a duty among others but an ethical value. Under the influence of these views, every time the museum presents its environment (social, cultural, biological, historical), the current museography focuses on highlighting the aspects in which we find human interactions. As far as Gary Edson is concerned, in his book “Ethics of the Museum” and later in “Museum Ethics in Practice”, he addresses ethical issues in the context of verifying the value of exposed theory by attempting to put it into museum practice. Using multiple case studies and examplesbased arguments, Edson concludes that ethics reinforces the fundamental values and convictions of all professions practiced - something that can be demonstrated, for example, in a museum institution. It highlights the importance of ethical conduct in personal development as well as the formation of responsible attitudes that place the respect at the basis of the transposition of museum ethics into practice. Because the museum’s sphere is constantly changing, being influenced and in turn influencing the socio-cultural, economic and political conditions in which it manifests itself, this institution cannot fulfil its mission under any circumstances. In addition to the responsibility to protect heritage, the museum also needs an ethical standard of inclusion and sense of duty accomplished for each person and the community.

14 Simon N. (2010), p. 199.

While deontology defines the values promoted by the profession and identifies principles that guide moral behaviours, museum ethics encourages the promotion of the highest standards of behaviour of those working in the profession, helping them make decisions with and for the public.15 Also, museum ethics helps increase public confidence in the professions exerted in a museum by defining acceptable practices for them in an interactive context of communicating with the public. Thus, ethical principles come to determine the practices and even the customs within the museums. Ethics therefore remains consistent with its principles, but their practice is changing. Therefore, the application of these principles needs to be updated, especially to meet the changing demands of the contemporary museum. For this reason, the research and testing activities of the public, the elaboration of cultural projects and programs in order to identify, select and diversify the ways of capturing the interest of the visitor public appear necessary.16 So, the need for a clearly articulated code of ethics is a part of the museum’s professional agenda. This, even in the current context, does not forget to support education, but also social learning, supported both by the museum institution and by the community of museums as far as possible in partnership. Although the perspective of the museum’s accountability for its role in the society is widely accepted, questions arise as to the concrete ways in which the museum can integrate into a community while respecting the obligation to preserve cultural heritage in optimum conditions. By responding appropriately to such questions, the museum also becomes an advocate of honesty, objectivity and responsibility for the future, because it manages not only objects and sites, but also ideas associated with destiny, thus making it responsible for preserving the tangible and intangible heritage of mankind.17

15 Edson G. (2017), p. 135. 16 Popa L-A., (2003), p. 181. 17 Edson G. (2017), pp. 10-21.

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Museum ethical codes waiting to be written Essentially, the Code of Ethics of a museum affirms the respect of museum staff for the public and the public responsibility of this institution engaged in the service of the public. Therefore, before looking for financial performance, it is important for museums to allow their ethical codes to promote a culture of ethical practices and behaviours and of participation. In this way, it has now come to be said that in a museum, alongside the primacy of legality, that of ethics has to dominate so that it can increase the public’s trust in the role of the museum in society.18 We outlined, very briefly, three variations on the extension of the museum’s role towards the real issues of society. The coagulation of these visions in the ethical plane has the consequence of the necessity of translating the museum ethics from the areas of nonutilitarian ethics (which affirms the normative primacy of universal moral values) into that of utilitarian ethics, which probes the possibility of ethics to influence the social development according to the degree of acceptance of change.19 But this is not enough, because sustainable museum ethics also requires anchoring into moral principles that have been verified over the centuries. Therefore, the opening of museum ethics must also be oriented towards the significant traces of the past. Taking all these into account, the new museum ethics will develop in a balanced way on the following three coordinates: social responsibility in engaging in community life, total transparency and sharing of responsibility for heritage conservation. These ethical coordinates already work and guide the museum towards a model of democratic participation, implemented through beneficial initiatives for preserving and transmitting knowledge of a lasting interest to the society. Also, the new museum ethics is focused on a value discourse that takes into account the dynamics of the needs of communities in which museums are becoming more and more present and useful. Thus, separated from the mere programmatic discourse, the new museum ethics is established as a social practice able not only to identify social problems, but also to try to solve them. 18 ICOM (2014, updated). 19 Frone S., Constantinescu A. (2016), p. 7.

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In addition, the debates surrounding the ethical exigencies that must govern the museum activity have surpassed the specialists’ sphere and are now entrusted to the audiences that want to get involved. Thus, they work together to create a new museum horizon, which can become lasting precisely because it is open to change.20 Such an ethical development is a social development project that opens up new horizons, including public accountability for the role of the museum in the society. The failure of the public collection to acquire “The Wisdom of the Earth”, for example, shows that the responsibility factors for the museum institutions, at least at us, have much to do to support this effort.

Conclusions Even though the museum is the expression of current social development, the fact that museum ethics is experiencing exceptional dynamics has transformed this ethics from a rigid norm into an ethics open to qualitative accumulations. The consequence of this evolution is the detachment from the confinement of professional ethics and the simultaneous opening towards deontological pluralism which, on the basis of the exchange of good practices, will bring the public closer to the values of the museum. Thus, museum ethics is able to refashion the moral rules present at the level of society as a whole, although the museum framework always falls within a given social area. Also, through its impetus to social change, museum ethics has the innovative capacity to promote social progress and intercultural exchanges. This new type of ethics, having respect and responsibility as invariable constants, allows itself to ask the public to cross, with complete confidence in the stability of the moral edifice that the museum represents, the gap between the constants of the past and the uncertainties of the future. We can bet on the ethics of the open museum, because it is more than the sum of the ethical aspirations of the society in the timeframe of the present. In addition, it 20 Marstine J. (2011), p. 26.


has the gift of opening a unique perspective on some intimate social spheres that we would not otherwise have access to.

References Bishop Claire, 2015, Radical Museology, or, What’s ‘Contemporary’ in Museums of Contemporary Art?, Koenig Books, London. Desvallées André, Mairesse François, 2010, Key Concepts of Museology, Armand Publishing House Colin, Belgium. Edson Gary, 2017, Museum Ethics in Practice, New York: Routledge, Taylor & Francis Group. Frone Simona, Constantinescu Andreea, 2016, Basics of Sustainable Development Ethics, Proceedings of the International Conference “Information Society and Sustainable Development”, III-rd Edition, April 14-15, 2016, „Academica Brâncuși”. International Council of Museums (ICOM), 2004, 2017, Status of the ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums, http://icom.museum/the-vision/codeof-ethics/ (November 5, 2017). Janes R. Robert, 2016, Museums without Borders: Selected Writings of Robert R. Janes, 1st Edition, Routledge Taylor and Francis Group, London. Marstine Janet (edit.), 2011, The Routledge Companion to Museum Ethics, Redefining Ethics for the Twenty-First Century Museum, Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon.

1st edition, 2014, National Institute for Research and Vocational Training. Pabst Kathrin, Johansen D. Eva, Ipsen Merete, 2016, Towards new Relations between the Museum and Society, ICOM Norway Ullevålsveien, Oslo, Norway. Pisică Gheorghe, 2012, Museum Code of Ethics - the main basis for running the contemporary museum, Rev. Revista de știință, inovare, cultură și artă no. 1 (36) 2012, National Museum of Archeology and History of Moldova, Chișinău, Republic of Moldova. Popa Lavinia-Aniela, 2003, The Museum and the Public - Current Trends, „Ștefan cel Mare” University Suceava in Revista Muzeelor Nr. 3-4/2003 Tom 39, CIMEC. Simon Nina, 2010, The Participatory Museum, Ed. Museum 2.0, Santa Cruz, California. Van-Praet Michel, 2016, Reversing the de-realization of natural and social phenomena: Ethical issues for museums in a multidisciplinary context, Murphy L. (ed.), Museum, Ethics and Cultural Heritage. London and New York: Routledge, p. 67. Yerkovich Sally, 2016, A Practical Guide to Museum Ethics, Rowman & Littlefield International, Ltd. Zbuchea, Alexandra, Ivan Loredana, 2008, Focus Museum: how to better get to know museum visitors, COLIAS Publishing House, Bucharest.

Museumus Associations, Code of Ethics for Museums, http://www.museumsassociation. org/ethics/ code-of-ethics (November 6, 2017). Network of European Museum Organisations (NEMO), 2014, Action Plan 2015-2017, Berlin, Germania, http://www.ne-mo.org/fileadmin/ Dateien/public/NEMO_Statements/... Nițulescu Virgil Ștefan, 2014, The museum landscape after the transition, Revista Muzeelor, Volume I,

Sorin-Mihai Constantinescu RATB Museum info@ratb.ro

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ICOM Code of Ethics and its applicability to museums

ABSTRACT A code of museum ethics should represent and provide a set of consensual values and standards of behaviour that are agreed at a particular time to define a relationship of trust between the museum and the communities it serves. For example, the ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums provides a set of minimum standards, for use on a global basis. The purpose of this paper is to present and interpret the principles which are pointed out in the ICOM Code and the social responsibility of museums and to contribute to the debate on museum codes of ethics and to provide some ideas for future revisions.

Key-words: museum ethics, cultural heritage, social responsibility, transparency, ICOM Code of Ethics

Introducere Professional codes of ethics, rules and codes of practice and procedures have been used in museology since the early 20th century, when the American Museum Association (AAM) published its first ethical code, under the name Code of Ethics for Museum Workers. The work highlights the museum’s employees’ value system as developed since the end of the nineteenth century, as well as the ethical principles of the museum profession: “Museums, in the broadest sense, are institutions that safely keep the goods for mankind and for the future welfare of the human species. Their value is directly proportional to the service they offer to people’s intellectual and emotional lives. The life of a museum employee is essentially one in the service of others.”1 The ethics codes of museums refer to the implementation of the ethical principles of employees in their daily work, being regularly reviewed and renewed. Museums have a moral influence2: they exist in a continuous dialogue with the society and represent complex institutions. Their codes of ethics reflect the values of the institution, but also the social contexts, standards, norms and philosophy that underlie the way in which museums work in accordance with their own values and those of their society.3 Museum ethics addresses two aspects related to the profession of curator: first, it addresses the internal affairs of the museum community and intends to awaken in those who work in this field a sense of self-esteem, emphasizing the conceptual unity of this profession. Secondly, museum ethics is directed to the outside and defines the admissible behaviour and responsibility of museum workers towards the society they serve.4 1 2 3 4

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Macdonald, R. R. (1991), 178. Marstine, J. (2011), 5. Bounia, A. (2014), 1. Edson, G. (1997), 10.


The 8 Principles of the ICOM Code of Conduct One of the best-known codes of professional ethics in museums is the International Council of Museums (ICOM) ethical code, which was unanimously approved in 1986 and published the following year. The code was revised in 2004 as a result of the impact of organizational and social changes on museums. These influences include the adaptation of museum provisions as well as the care and protection of the cultural and natural heritage they provide. If traditionally the museums were associated with a cultural heritage on the move, once the conservation consciousness became more and more acute, they began to include, in addition to historical sites and buildings, significant dwellings and aspects related to the living heritage of humanity, including the intangible cultural heritage.5 The first principle of the ICOM Code of Ethics refers to the duty of museums to preserve, explain and promote the natural and cultural heritage of humanity.6 Being institutions with complex public responsibilities, museums must pursue a welldefined goal and assume the mission to provide the resources needed to accomplish it. Protecting and interpreting cultural heritage places museums in a special position in terms of public confidence. However, in some cases, funding this public trust has become increasingly dependent on the private or commercial sector. Sponsorships that private companies make to support museums financially are two-way processes – essentially, they are a specific service exchange rather than unconditional support. So even though museums are now institutions that have complex duties and are pursuing multiple directions of expansion, it is important for their social mission and the way they are perceived by the public not to use their resources to serve external financial purposes. Another principle underlying ICOM’s Code of Ethics is: “Museums that care for collections must keep them safe for the benefit of society and its development.” Therefore, museum employees have a responsibility to pay special attention to the collections they have in their preservation, so that they can reach future generations in the best and 5 6

Lewis, G. (2016), 46. Idem.

safest conditions. An important element in museum risk management is preventive preservation, which ensures that collections are preserved in a protected environment, whether it be a warehouse, showcase or a transit area. Also, it may sometimes be a problem to consolidate an object or sample, and to perform repairs or restorations. It is essential that, prior to such preservation, the advice of specialists in the field be sought and then carried out under the guidance of a qualified restorer.7 Normally, an active museum will always add new items to its collections. It is necessary to establish the complete history of any object before the acquisition is taken into account. Even if a donor can have a «legal document» for an object, this does not exclude an earlier illegal purchase. To this end, the concept of due diligence has been introduced into the ICOM Code since 2004. Any deal with objects or materials that have an inadequate origin is considered illegal and therefore unethical. Museums must take the lead in this area and help mitigate the wave of unrealistic discoveries regarding the natural, cultural and biological resources of the world. Caring for a collection requires special attention when it comes to human remains, artifacts, or other material of sacred significance. They must be preserved in a proper and decent manner, usually kept in the archives of scientific institutions, with the possibility to be studied on demand and for legitimate purposes. The use of the material in question must be compatible with professional standards, as well as with the interests and beliefs of the community they come from. One such example may be the New York Memorial Museum, dedicated to the victims of the terrorist attacks of September 11, 2001, where over 40,000 photos and 11,000 artifacts (oral testimonies, clothes, books, etc.) are hosted, and about 9,000 of unidentified human remains of those who lost their lives at that time. These remains are kept in an underground deposit, a space that is not accessible to the public, but there is still the possibility to be visited only by the families of the victims, during the opening hours of the museum as well as outside them (but only with an appointment). 7

Lewis, G. (2016), 48.

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The third principle of the ICOM Code of Ethics refers to the responsibility of museums to initiate and promote actions to increase the level of knowledge of the target audience. To achieve this goal, museums undertake research, for example, which may be related to their collections, to related cultural fields, or which may result in journalistic activities (newspapers or museum magazines). Such research should be consistent with the mission and objectives of the museum and be carried out at the highest standards in order to then publish the results and to bring them to the attention of the general public and the academic community.8 Museums also have to create opportunities for the appreciation, understanding and management of cultural and natural heritage.9 In other words, facilities provided by museums should be physically and intellectually accessible on a regular basis and within reasonable hours. Sharing information and expertise to the public is fundamental to the social purpose of museums, which it should achieve in a professional manner. Interacting with people who represent the local community can help a museum develop its educational role and attract larger audiences. It is important to point out that certain communities may oppose and consider it inappropriate for certain aspects of their inheritance to be exposed, such as human remains or sacred objects, and these points of view must be respected. This was also the case for the Memorial Museum dedicated to the victims of the September 11 attacks, which triggered several controversies, especially from the families of those killed, who rejected the idea that loved ones would be used to serve the purpose of the museum to attract ticket paying visitors. As mentioned above, the solution that the museum’s management found was to deposit the remains in a private space, independent of the exhibition, to which only the families of the victims had access, and not the casual visitors of the museum. Engaging the public in supporting the museum, its objectives and activities can bring mutual benefits. The main contact that the public can have with the museum is through permanent and temporary exhibitions, guided tours or collections 8 9

Lewis, G. (2016), 49. Idem.

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presentations or various forms of online museum resource promotion (virtual tours, publications, phone and tablet applications that provide access museum collections, etc.). This interpretative work should preserve its standards of accuracy, honesty and objectivity and be academicly based. Another principle of the ICOM Code of Ethics is that: “Museums retain resources that provide opportunities and benefits for other public services”. The expertise of museum specialists can be used by other public institutions - for example, if they need it of information for carrying out impact studies on the development or conservation of the environment. Involvement in such projects can also provide a useful feedback to the museum as well as enriching the knowledge of its employees, but it is important that the time devoted to these activities does not compromise the institution’s main mission. Many museums offer appraisal or consultancy services, for example, in the field of visual arts, where they may be required in respect of works of art held by private owners or commercial organizations. Information on such material should be treated confidentially, but if it contributes to making new discoveries in a field, the owner should be encouraged to approve their publication if they are appropriate. Objects can only be evaluated by recognized public organizations. If the museum is financially or legally eligible or may have an interest in a particular object, the evaluation should be carried out independently. Objects that can be acquired, transferred, imported or exported in an illegal or illicit manner should not be identified or authenticated. In such cases, the competent authorities must be notified.10 Museums should also have close collaboration with members of the communities from which their collections originate, as well as with those in whose service they operate. Objects that are part of the natural or cultural heritage of a people need to be associated with people, places and events, through which they are given meaning and justification for their place in the collection of the museum. In this way, they are differentiated from the common property. However, such associations can also create tensions. For example, the geographic association of an object, especially in 10 Lewis, G. (2016), 50.


an area where political boundaries have changed, may be of transnational, national, regional or local importance, and may raise various issues, such as the museum that would be most suitable to host it. These tensions become even more complex when the object is of ethnic, political or religious importance. Such situations should provide opportunities to share information and exhibitions with museums in the communities involved. With regard to international collections, they must be returned to their country of origin or to the families of the people they held. This is all the more relevant when an object has been illegally exported or transferred from its home country or stolen during an occupation period. Exposing such objects gives the impression of accepting such behaviour. Collecting cultural assets from contemporary communities and interpreting their inheritance requires close collaboration with those communities involved and respect for their traditions and culture. Objects of sacred significance, such as human remains, must be treated with sensitivity and deference to those involved. Co-operation with organizations representing their communities and their heritage can bring benefits to both parties, as well as the involvement of volunteer associations or “friends� of museums.11 Museums are also obliged to act in a legal way every time. They must comply with the laws of the country in which they operate, as well as with international law applicable in this field. The law that concerns the cultural and natural heritage of communities varies considerably from one country to another, and sometimes ICOM’s Code of Ethics can play a quasilegal role in ensuring standards for museum ethics when legislation is deficient or missing. The Code uses international law as a guide to professional standards, and these legal instruments apply to the practice of museum ethics, even if the treaties or conventions in question have entered into force or not in a particular State involved.12

has the right to expect these responsibilities to be fulfilled in a professional manner, by accepting certain standards and laws, as well as other safeguards against illegal or unethical behaviour. The staff of the museums working in human resources departments should develop policies, procedures and employment conditions compatible with these responsibilities to enable them to implement them in a professional and ethical manner. Loyalty to those in leadership positions and to colleagues is an important element in professional ethics, as well as supporting the dignity and honour given by the quality of being employed in a museum in relations with those outside. Museum staff must have the knowledge, experience and contacts through which they can also benefit from external opportunities such as offering consulting, teaching, writing and broadcasting services, or responding to the personal requests of those who need the opinion of specialists or the valuations they make to cultural, scientific and natural assets inherited. Museum employees should also develop relationships with other specialists, with the commercial market or the owners of private collections. However, such associations may also lead to conflicts of interest, which requires a fundamental and calculated assessment. Professional relationships must meet the highest standards, by respecting confidentiality and avoiding any situation involving the acceptance of gifts or favours that could compromise the rules of museum employees. For example, private collections of employees should not interfere with those of the institution in which they work. They are also not allowed to benefit from the sale or purchase of an asset that is related to the cultural and natural heritage of a community. Whenever a conflict of interest arises or is anticipated, the issue must be shared with the competent authority and the situation clarified or rectified as soon as possible.13

Last but not least, museums must operate in a professional manner and realize that maintaining, preserving and interpreting the inheritance of civilizations or cultures is a public duty. The public 11 Lewis, G. (2016), 51. 12 Idem.

13 Lewis, G. (2016), 51-52.

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Conclusions So, the role of museums in the society is an active and multiple one. There is, however, in this diversity of provisions a common goal: to preserve the collective memories of the society, expressed in a tangible or intangible way through cultural and natural heritage. This concern would make no sense if it was not associated with free access to the public and providing the necessary explanations for them to better understand the past. Therefore, museums must ensure not only the presentation of a people’s cultural heritage, but also the facilitation of understanding of what the heritage actually means. Through ethical codes such as ICOM, minimum standards reflecting public expectations are ensured and museum specialists can assess their performance. Therefore, ICOM’s code of ethics is not only a basis of minimum standards in museum ethics, it is also a way to promote the common points of members of a diverse community, but with general strategic goals. Even though the fields in which museums operate can be extremely varied (from art, history, archaeology or geology to science, technology, agriculture, etc.), and their staff come from different academic and operative backgrounds, museums share some the other responsibility they have towards society, namely to preserve its cultural and natural heritage in a safe way and to expose and explain it in such a way that the public understands its importance and assures its continuity. As far as revisions to national or international codes of museum ethics are concerned, they should take into account the responsibilities of museum specialists in their research towards society (for example, respect for all communities regardless of race, ethnicity, religion or culture; rejection of marginalization or exclusion, respect for gender differences, etc.), the adoption of adequate tools and standards to meet the needs and requirements of different museum categories (choice of appropriate research methods, avoidance of unjustified material losses or gains, reflections on the consequences which the research commitment can have on the participants) and the responsibility towards all the participants in the research (respect for the voluntary participation, the confidentiality and the anonymity of the data, the protection against any interference, damage or disasters).14 14 Bounia, A. (2014), 5.

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Thus, the Museum Code of Ethics must be a source of inspiration for new generations of specialists and inspire ethical thinking by encouraging honesty, fairness, respect and responsibility. Moreover, a museum’s code of ethics must recognize the evolution of museums and staff in such institutions, and provide new ways for employees to appreciate their work, but also for the society to value and perceive their work, and role in the community. The ongoing effort that museums and individuals have to make is therefore essential for the purpose of reviewing museum codes of ethics and supporting a renewed outlook on the profession and the institution itself. References A. Bounia, „Codes of Ethics and Museum Research”, Journal of Conservation and Museum Studies 12.1 (2014), pp. 1-7. Edson, G. (ed.). 1997. Museum Ethics. London and New York: Routledge. R. R. Macdonald, „Developing a Code of Ethics for Museums”, Curator 34.3, pp. 178-186. Marstine, J. (ed.). 2011. The Routledge Companion to Museum Ethics: Redefining Ethics for the TwentyFirst Century Museum. London and New York: Routledge. Lewis, G. (2016). The ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums, Museums, Ethics and Cultural Heritage. London and New York: Routledge.

Ana-Maria-Violeta Voloc Cultural advisor Casa de Cultură Odobești ana.voloc@gmail.com


Some ethical issues of Romanian museum management In this article we will describe the composition of the Romanian museum management and, briefly, the programmatic document of the International Council of Museums (hereinafter ICOM) regarding the ethical standards of museums, respectively some ethical issues that we have observed regarding the activity of the Romanian museum management, a primary source of both the stagnation in our profession and the intense conflicts after 2005-2017 in the system. Because the professional guild of cultural managers is still young, the first step towards its professionalization is the recognition and assumption of real problems.

Museum Management Often, there is a tendency to reduce management in general and the museum one in particular, to the person of the manager or the director, as the case may be. We must emphasize from the outset that this notion, of museum management, represents for us an equation with several (un) known elements but which commonly contributes but not jointly to the management of the interests of our museums. Museum management is, in fact, made up of several components: • the local or central authority, respectively the owner of public or private law, of the cultural, natural or material heritage of the museums; • the political decision-maker present at government, regional, county or local level; • the principal of the management contract – hereinafter manager or appointed director; • collective governing bodies: scientific council, board of directors; • executives from museum organizations other than the manager or director: Deputy Directors, Chiefs of Service, Heads of Departments, Heads of Directorates, Heads of Sections, Office Chiefs - or middle management. The application or, on the contrary, the absence of ethical, written or unwritten principles to all these factors involved in museum management leads to the ethical conflicts and dilemmas we will describe in the second part of our communication. For the sake of fairness, we must mention that some of the ethical principles of good governance are stipulated in the national legislation applicable by the National Integrity Agency, which is aimed at the transparency of the personal income sources of the managerial staff (wealth statements) respectively at eliminating small and large corruption or avoiding conflicts of interest in public procurement procedures.1 1 Law no. 184/2016 of October 17, 2016 - on the establishment of a mechanism to prevent the conflict of interest in the procedure for the award of public procurement contracts; Law no. 176 of September 1, 2010 - on integrity in the exercise of public office and dignity, amending and supplementing the Law no. 144/2007 on the establishment, organization and operation of the National Integrity Agency, as well as on the modification and completion of other normative acts, as subsequently amended and supplemented; Law no. 144 of May 21, 2007, republished - regarding the establishment, organization and operation of the National Integrity Agency, as subsequently amended and supplemented; Law no. 115 of October 16, 1996 - on the declaration and control of the wealth of dignitaries, magistrates, persons with management and control positions and civil servants, as subsequently amended and supplemented.

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These laws do not regulate good governance rules in the specific field of activity, of protection and valorisation of cultural heritage, for which the only instrument at hand is the ICOM Code of Ethics. Perhaps it is worth mentioning here that

the patrimony law (182/2000), the museum law (311/2003) or the law on the management of public cultural institutions (189/2008) do not use the word “ethics” in their content.

ICOM Code of Ethics and some issues of Romanian museum management II. ICOM Code of Ethics and some issues of Romanian museum management The recognized world system for structuring and regulating public activity in the field of culture is represented by the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization - UNESCO. The International Council of Museums - ICOM operates within UNESCO. This organization alone is the only one currently providing us with an indication of the rules of good governance in the field of the protection and valorisation of cultural heritage, with a focus exclusively on specific activity issues. The international document setting out the moral and ethical limits of museum activity is the ICOM Code of Ethics. ICOM’s Code of Professional Ethics was unanimously adopted by the 15th ICOM General Assembly in Buenos Aires on November 4, 1986. It was fined by the 20th General Assembly of Barcelona on July 6, 2001 when it was renamed in the ICOM Ethics Code, and revised by the 21st General Assembly of Seoul on October 8, 2004.2 As shown in the document, the ICOM Code is a minimum standard for museums. It is presented “as a set of principles, based on models, for desirable professional practice”. The contents of the ICOM Code consist of several chapters: 1. The museum preserves, interprets and promotes the natural and cultural heritage of humanity; 2. Museums that maintain collections keep them in custody for the benefit of society and its development; 3. Museums retain basic testimonies for the establishment and future of knowledge; 4. Museums offer opportunities for the appreciation, understanding and management of natural and cultural heritage; 2 http://icom.museum/fileadmin/user_upload/pdf/Codes/code_ ethics2013_eng.pdf

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5. Museums have resources that provide opportunities for other public services and benefits; 6. Museums work in close collaboration with communities that originate collections, as well as with the ones they serve; 7. Museums operate in a legal manner; 8. Museums work in a professional manner; 9. Glossary. We will continue to review some of the ethics issues we have identified in part of the Romanian museum management, as they result from the elements of the ICOM Code of Ethics, consisting of notable differences in the current national practice. Chapter 1 «Museums preserves, interprets and promotes the natural and cultural heritage of humanity,» in paragraph 1.12 «Appointment of the director or manager» states: «The director or manager of the museum is a key position and when a nomination is made, the governmental body has to take into account the knowledge and skills necessary to occupy this position. These qualities must include intellectual skills and professional knowledge, complemented by high-standard ethics. « The first major national deficiency is identified at the level of the director or manager›s appointment by the public authority. This problem belongs to both the authority and the managers who accept to be appointed in these positions, either through the sinful formula of interim leadership or through formal competitions, with participation conditions tailored to the biographical record of the only candidate. If we also add the absence of intellectual abilities or professional knowledge specific to the institution where management is exercised, we have a first case of ethical problem of the system, which is often the primary reason for Romanian de-professionalization of Romanian museums. Chapter 2, «Museums administering collections have custody on them for the benefit of society and


its development,» recommends the following: «2.3. Attention to origin and assets (patrimony). Every effort must be made before the purchase to ensure that any object or specimen offered for purchase, donation, loan or exchange has not been obtained illegally from the country of origin or intermediate country in which it may have been legally obtained (including the country where the museum is located). Efforts in this matter must establish the complete history of the object from discovery or production.» A problem that has worsened in recent years is given by the attention, or more precisely by its absence, to the origin and assets of the patrimony. Some museums, through their management, have opened Pandora›s box for the acquisition of mobile cultural goods without a proven origin, let’s say resulting from their «detection» with sophisticated devices on the «roadside» or «near X-forest». Efforts to establish the complete history of the “discovery or production object” are plagued by managers› obsession with having as many cultural assets as possible to be classified as «Thesaurus». Moreover, point 2.4 «Objects or specimens from unauthorized or non-scientific discoveries» explicitly states that «museums must not acquire objects on which there are reasonable grounds to believe that their discovery implies unauthorized or unscientific research or the wilful destruction or damage of monuments, archaeological or natural sites, or species and natural habitats. In the same way, the acquisition must not take place if the discovery was not brought to the attention of the owner or the occupant of the land or to the appropriate governmental or legal authorities. «This is also the case in point 4.5» Exposure of nonoriginating materials» underlining that «museums must avoid exposure or otherwise use of materials of disputed or unknown origin. They must be aware that such exposures or uses may be interpreted as a reason or contribution to illicit trafficking in cultural property. The national practice of recent years has led to the development of museum heritage through «unauthorized or unknowing discoveries», but important because they are of shining gold. Let us also talk about the «contribution to illicit trafficking in cultural property»? We can only see that the explosion of treasures of precious metal treasures is the tip of the iceberg, the shocking number of «detectors» licensed or put up for sale is a clear proof of this impossible reality to quantify.

In Article 2.10 “Acquisitions offered by the members of the government body or museum staff” indicates that “special attention is needed in respect of any good, whether offered for sale or as a donation or for tax relief by the members of the governmental institutions, museum staff, or the families or close associates of these people.” We believe that increased attention should have been paid by the Romanian museum management to the donation offer for the establishment of a museum by a ... prime minister in office. What about the fact that it later turned out in court that the respective “donor” had real difficulties in explaining the provenance of the estate, supposed to be just fabulous. The reality is that we still have a national museum of uncontrolled origin. In Chapter 3 “Museums hold basic testimonies for the establishment and future of knowledge”, section 3.2 “Collection availability” states that “museums have a special responsibility to make available collections and relevant information as freely as possible, taking care only about confidentiality or security issues.” Regarding the “making available of collections and relevant information as free as possible”, I believe that there is no researcher in Romania who has not been faced at least once with the limitation of the access to the patrimony which was the object of his research on the grounds that a manager or collector also intended to research / publish exactly the same cultural goods, usually in illo tempore. With regard to «Museum Collection and Research» in point 3.3 «Field Collection», it is stipulated that «Museums that collect cultural goods in the field must develop policies consistent with academic standards and national and international laws and treaty obligations. Field research should be done with respect and consideration for the perspective of local communities, their environmental resources and cultural practices, as well as with efforts to strengthen cultural and natural heritage.» If we are to report later to the field research, this often ends in Romania by the complete degradation of the village or archaeological site from any relevant material for the future of the local community, with the irreparable destruction of the respective cultural heritage. Placing cultural assets in warehouses without discernment, just to «save» them, has 113


led and leads most of the times to stopping any initiative aimed at integrating the patrimony into the sustainable development of the place. The Roşia Montană case is a sad reminder of the guild of those who want to protect the patrimony. Chapter 4 «Museums offer opportunities for appreciation, understanding and management of natural and cultural heritage» states, inter alia, in section 4.1. «Exposures, exhibitions and special activities»: «Temporary, physical or electronic exposures and exhibitions must be consistent with the assumed mission, policies and purposes of the museum. They must not compromise either the quality, the proper care or the preservation of the collections.» If we are to relate the concordance between the «assumed mission, the policies and the aims of the museum» (only if they are made public within the respective institutions) and the exhibitions or activities of the museum, we enter a gray area of our profession. Unfortunately, under the constant pressure of the employer obsessed to increase incomes, the compromises in museums have begun to become worrying in the last few years. Exhibitions that «attract», irrespective of the subject matter or techniques used, increasingly disregard the place where they are located. It is important to have «visitors»! Whether or not they have dilemmas about where they are it does not matter if they paid the entrance ticket. More serious is that this is an isolated phenomenon in the national cultural heritage management economy, the other cultural goods owners (archives, libraries, cults) are not so obsessed with the steady increase in revenues, perhaps because they are totally subsidized by the state. That does not prevent them from generating income, but they are not an end in themselves. And last but not least, the introduction of exhibitions or activities unrelated to the specifics of the museum is an escape from professional obligations, imagination and creativity being passed between brackets, because always there are «turn-key» solutions at hand, for which you do not have to work, being just enough to be a good host. In Chapter 5, «Museums have resources that offer opportunities for other services and public benefits», section 5.2 «Authentication and Evaluation», it is stated that «Evaluations can be made for the needs of museum collections insurance. Opinions about 114

monetary value of objects should be made only at the request of another museum or legal, governmental or public authority. However, when the museum itself could be the recipient (of evaluation), the evaluation of an object or specimen must be carried out independently.» This is another hot topic in the last decade, especially from the point of view of the specialized legislation, namely the control institutions that audit the activity of the museum management, namely the evaluation of the patrimony. Not only did we get into the situation of not evaluating our own patrimony, but we are also asking for astronomical sums, including from our own colleagues in other institutions, in case they have the bad luck of having cultural goods for which there are no experts or evaluators in their own organization. Maybe, however, will also come the time when, from pure professional courtesy, we will perform free inter-institutional evaluations of cultural heritage, just because it is an honour and a joy to be part of the management of the cultural heritage of the national community. Perhaps the most sensitive chapter is 8 «Museums operate in a professional manner». Section 8.13 «Employment outside (museums) and business interests» states, inter alia, that «members of the museum profession, although entitled to a certain extent to their own independence, must realize that no private business or professional interest can be completely separated from the employing institution. They should not accept other paid engagements or out-of-work commissions that are in conflict or may be perceived as conflicting with the interests of the museum. Section 8.14 «Trade with Natural and Cultural Heritage» states: «The members of the museum profession should not participate, directly or indirectly, in trade (selling or buying for profit) with natural or cultural heritage.» The ICOM Code of Ethics also points out in Section 8.16 «Private Collection»: «Members of the museum profession should not compete with their own institution either in the acquisition of objects or in other personal collection activities. An understanding between museum professionals and the governmental organization on private collection must be formulated and scrupulously respected. « In conclusion of the analysis of the ICOM Code of


Ethics from a Romanian perspective, we will discuss this delicate subject, negatively influenced by the general state of the society in which we activate and the particular state of the museum professional community. The salary paid to the staff involved in museum management (here we also refer to museums, researchers, conservators or restorers in the system more widely) and keeping it in the category of «contract staff» (which is obviously a lower class than that of civil servants) make us unable to avoid engaging in private business, engagements or commissions outside the museum, but which may be in conflict or perceived as conflicting with the interests of the museum. However, participations in activities sometimes made to the detriment of their own museum are becoming more and more numerous. Whether these are archaeological discharge digs for another museum or commercial

company, or they even get to work in the teams of other museums, it›s hard to pretend with a clean conscience that they are «completely separate from the employing institution.» “Participation in the trade with natural or cultural heritage” is no longer a forbidden area for museum management, as long as we have among us, colleagues who obtain or obtained profit from this trade. Perhaps it is not a coincidence, therefore, that they, or others, some of them, even managers of national museums, declare private collections of decorative or religious art, with declared value of tens of thousands of euro (maybe if they gave us the declared values in Romanian lei it would look even more dramatic). Perhaps it is time for this “private collection” to be defined and clarified by law in order to remove any suspicion from our work.

Post scriptum Instead of concluding, we add three elements that we consider to be generating ethical or moral dilemmas, which in turn cause conflicts, sometimes perceived wrongly as conflicts between generations. The Romanian state is traumatized by the communist regime, a regime characterized by the monopolization of leadership for an indefinite time, state leadership at the executive level by a person who has long exceeded the retirement age and the leader›s membership to the Romanian Communist Party. Returning to the subject proposed by the present analysis, the fact that the Romanian museum management can only be discarded naturally through

the death of the «leaders» who have lost the number of years since they were appointed managers, they have the retirement age but they come to work, and were members of the Romanian Communist Party, should be an ethical dilemma for some of the opinion makers of 2017.

Valer Rus Manager ʺCasa Mureșenilor” Museum Brasov rus.valer@gmail.com

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The Deaccessioning of Museum Cultural Assets An Ethical Challenge for the Museum World

ABSTRACT Defined as the process by which a work of art or other object is permanently removed from a museum’s collection, deaccessioning is still a controversial procedure. For this reason, many professional museum associations drafted codes of ethics governing the practice of deaccessioning, or included chapters in the existing Codes of Ethics for museum practice, such as: The Dutch Guideline for Deaccessioning Museum Objects, The Disposal Toolkit- Guidelines for Museums in UK, The AMD Policy on Deaccessioning in the United States or the chapters regarding deaccessioning in: A Legal Primer on Managing Museum Collections in USA or those included in the ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums. They all agree upon some ethical aspects, such as: it is within the framework of a clearly defined collections development policy, it is done with the intention that wherever possible items remain within the public domain, it is unlikely to damage public trust in museums and it is likely to increase the public benefit derived. In our country, deaccessioning is almost impossible. According to Romanian legislation the classified movable cultural goods and all those representing public assets of the State or of the territorial-administrative entities are inalienable, imprescriptible and exempt from seizure.

Key-words: deaccessioning, disposal, code of ethics, museum item, cultural mobile good, public asset

Often, when we get to work in a museum, and especially when we have to come up with the best solutions for managing it in a manner that bet fits its purpose and mission statement while also keeping in mind, on the one hand, an overarching vision and, on the other hand, the rules on museum heritage preservation, we find ourselves faced with a considerable deontological challenge. There are frequent cases when museum collections would accumulate in time an excessive amount of museum items of disparate artistic, historical, memorial and ethnographic value, as the case may be, which many times exceed the storage or the exhibit capacity of the museum and which no longer match the museum vision and mission. And the causes for this state of affairs are multiple. Over the years, large or even moderate acquisitions of museum items and the selection philosophy of the museum staff in charge building museum collections eventually cause the to amass a very large number of similar museum items (for example, ethnographic items ) to the detriment of rarer, but more valuable or more representative ones. Grants and donations would often end up engulfing the collection completely, causing its overcrowding it with items that are incongruous in both their type and their cultural worth. A special, yet quite frequent habit of the museums is to inventory museum items that would normally not qualify for this status (mock116


ups, copies of old photos, newspaper clippings, celebrities’ notes of no memorial, historical or artistic value; in other words, commonplace items). Faced with difficulties caused by their limited storage and exhibition capacity, museums have sought effective ways to eliminate their surplus collection items, as a way for the museums to support the long-term preservation of their collection and refine its scope in order to better fir their mission statement and community expectations. Confronted with the adverse consequences of their constant accumulation tendency, contemporary museum world has become increasingly concerned with deaccessioning, defined as the process the process by which a work of art or other object is permanently removed from the collection of a museum and sold, offered as part of a cultural exchange or even destroyed. Obviously, the process has stirred debates and controversies of an ethical and deontological nature, even in countries with more lenient legislation in this field. Even the ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums contains provisions that treat deaccession with caution. The Code stipulates that, where the museum has laws permitting disposals or has acquired objects subject to conditions of disposal, such laws and other requirements and procedures must be complied with fully. Moreover, if the original acquisition was subject to mandatory or other restrictions, such restrictions must be adhered to unless it can be shown clearly that such adherence is impossible or is substantially detrimental to the institution. An object or specimen should only be removed from a museum collection, provided there is a full understanding of the significance of the item, its character (whether renewable or non-renewable) and its legal standing and provided also that no loss of public trust might result from such action. The decision to deaccession should be the responsibility of the governing body acting in conjunction with the director of the museum and the curator of the collection concerned. Each museum should have in place a deaccession policy, establishing authorized methods for permanently removing an object from its collections through donation, transfer, exchange, sale, repatriation or destruction an should keep complete records of all deaccessioning decisions. In addition, a museum should make a strong presumption that a deaccessioned item should first be offered to another museum. Proceeds incurred from the deaccessioning and disposal of objects from a museum collection should be used solely for the benefit of the collection

and usually for acquisitions to that same collection. The ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums also stipulates that museum personnel, the governing body or their families or close associates should not be permitted to purchase objects that have been deaccessioned from a collection for which they are responsible.1 Even if deaccessioning seems to us a novelty and, in any case, as an unfeasible museum practice, in other countries the issue of deaccession and, in particular, the controversy over the ethical aspects of the procedure have been on the museums’ agenda for a long time by now. For example, the 1991 Code of Ethics of the American Alliance of Museums (AAM) provided that disposal of collections through sale, trade or research activities was limited strictly to the advancement of the museum’s mission and use of proceeds from the sale of collection materials was restricted to the acquisition of collections, arguing that a museum’s responsibilities to care for and preserve its collections were equally important as its obligations to enrich its collections, and that there was no point for a museum to acquire more objects when it could not adequately cared for what it had already in store. Since the entry into force of the Code of Ethics in 1994, museums in the United States have deaccessioned objects and used the proceeds to acquire additional items considered to be more representative or more valuable for their collections and the preservation and enhancement of the value of their existing collections. Deaccessioning or removing items from museum collections has long been an accepted collection management practice in US museums, governed by the institution’s collections management policy and code of ethics. However, two decades after the passing of the Code there is still much controversy over the morality of the procedure. Public tensions and controversy over the sale of objects from museums’ collections reflect the museums’ position as a public institution in the society. While the excess of accumulated objects in a museum’s collection might yield high proceeds from putting them up for sale in the marketplace, their greatest value is that they are part of the artistic, cultural and/or natural heritage. From this point of view, they are priceless. Part of a museum’s duty in caring for its collections consists of ensuring that these objects remain in the public domain, where people can benefit from them as a source of education and inspiration now and in the future.2 While this may be a matter-of-course for 1 ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums (2004), 12-13. 2 Yerkovich (2015), passim.

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museum professionals, there may be situations where the temptation to sell items from a collection to settle a debt or resolve other financial problems is irresistible, as it happened, for example, in the case of the selling of the collection of the Detroit Institute of Arts (DIA), which was criticized by the bankruptcy judge Steve Rhodes, who argued that “a museum stands[…] as an invaluable beacon of culture, education for both children and adults, personal journey, creative outlet, family experience, worldwide visitor attraction, civic pride and energy, neighborhood and community cohesion, regional cooperation, social service, and economic development […]” and that “to sell the DIA art would only deepen Detroit’s fiscal, economic and social problems. To sell the DIA art would be to forfeit Detroit’s future.”3 Despite controversies of a deontological nature, deaccessioning in the US has its supporters. For example, Dana Carlisle Kletchka4 believes that deaccessioning is commonly misunderstood by the general public as simply selling off works of art for cash, and that, while this has been known to happen in rare cases, the fact is that most museums are incredibly conscientious about the process of selling works of art that no longer fit the mission of the institution, and they do so only to procure funds for works of art that will improve the collection overall or invested in the benefit of the museum. Another example is The New York Times, which published an article explaining the rationale and advocating for the process by providing examples from major U.S. museums. According to that article, in 2011, at Sotheby’s in New York, the Cleveland Museum of Art was putting 32 old-master paintings up for auction, and the J. Paul Getty Museum was offering 15. In that same time the Pennsylvania Museum of Fine Arts and the Carnegie Museum of Art were selling five paintings each and the Art Institute of Chicago was selling two Picassos, a Matisse and a Braque at Christie’s in London. The article also reported that a week before the sales in question, the New Jersey Historical Society had sold 17 items at Christie’s in New York, including a 120-piece dinner service used to entertain President Martin Van Buren had been sold for $17,000. Fact is that deaccession is not unanimously accepted, not even in the United States. For example, in 1972, after an investigation into the sale by the Metropolitan Museum of Art of pieces from its modern art collection to help finance the purchase of Velázquez’s “Juan de Pareja”, 3 Idem. 4 Kletchka (2011), 2.

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the state attorney general imposed rules whereby the Metropolitan Museum of Art was required to record in its annual report the total cash proceeds gained by the Museum from art sales each year and to itemize any deaccessioned objects valued at more than $50,000 each.5 Another example is the notorious lawsuit involving deaccessioning, instituted by the management of the Brandeis University Rose Art Museum against Brandeis University over Brandeis’ Board of Trustees’ intention to close the university’s Rose Art Museum and sell off its collection, valued at approximately $350 to $400 million dollars. The collection included works by, among others, Andy Warhol and Roy Lichtenstein. In this lawsuit, the plaintiffs sought to maintain the Rose collection, claiming that the University’s decision to close it and sell its paintings violated the museum’s ethical codes. The plaintiffs also stated that the University’s decision violated its commitment to the Rose family to maintain the museum solely as a public museum.6 In the United States, following a great deal of controversies on the proceeds from deaccessioning, the Board of Directors of the American Alliance of Museums approved, at the request of the Accreditation Commission, the setting up of a crossdisciplinary group, whose main tasks were: to gather data to find out how museums of different disciplines used proceeds from deaccessioning; to compile a list of generally accepted uses of proceeds shared by all disciplines and of those specific to each discipline; evaluate the ethics underlying current standards and practices and advancing the thinking on this topic and issuing a white paper containing the findings and recommendations of the cross-disciplinary group, duly endorsed by the key discipline-specific organizations.7 However, in the United States of America, the “ABC” governing the application of appropriate legal solutions, including with regard to deaccession matters, is the paper called “A Legal Primer on Managing Museum Collection”, whose authors, Marie C. Malaro and Ildiko Pogany DeAngelis, argue that: “Professional codes of ethics set standards that are deemed important in order to uphold the integrity of the profession. The goal of such codes is to encourage conduct that warrants the confidence of the public.”8 5 6 7 8

Pogrebin (2011), 1. Schnapp (2009), 2. Yerkovich (2015), ibidem. Malaro, Pogany de Angelis (2012) passim.


In Europe, the deaccessioning of museum items has traditionally been considered a violation of the museum›s commitment to preservation and display of its heritage; however, many European countries have advanced a number of arguments, designed to point out the contribution of the deaccession museum practice to the sustainability and efficiency of the museum and even to visitor welfare. As a result, deaccessioning has enjoyed increasing recognition both in academia and the museum professional world. However, excessively liberal disposal policies may cause the dispersion of cultural heritage as well as managerial misconduct due to moral hazard. Moreover, when reviewing the current situation of deaccessioning in Europe, we may argue that, while the subsidiary principle prevents the European Union from ruling in matters of national heritage, there is still considerable interest among academics and professionals in Europe, resulting in a growing number of guidelines prepared by national professional associations, which show a considerable degree of consistency to each other and to the international codes of ethics.9 One of the European countries that have accepted the deaccession is the Netherlands, which has even developed a very comprehensive guide on the methods of deaccessioning museum items. The guide, known by the Dutch acronym LAMO, describes the methodology and the guidelines that are widely accepted as a professional norm for selecting and deaccessioning objects from museum collections. In the Netherlands, LAMO is considered a practical extension of the ICOM Code of Professional Ethics. According to the principles outlined in this “handbook”, when managing its collection, the museum, as a public institution, serves a wider social purpose and, as such, has the responsibility to protect the collection for the future generations. When considering the deaccession as an option, the museum should be absolutely sure that keeping an item in the public domain is no longer possible or desirable.10 Dieuwertje Wijsmuller11, a specialist in the field and an advocate of deaccession, believes that every museum deserves a beautiful and matching collection and that deaccessioning serves precisely this purpose. She also argues that collection profiling is important, because it gives a clear image of what belongs to the collection and what does not. 9 Vecco, Piazzai (2015), 221-227. 10 Bergevoet, Kok, Wit (2006), 1-7. 11 Wijsmuller, Creative Culture Consultancy, Collectiestrategie |Collectiewaardering | Herbestemming, Raad voor Cultuur, Reinwardt Academy, Amsterdam Area, Netherlands.

In the UK, in addition to the Code of Ethics Code for Museums12 – Ethical principles for all who work for or govern museums in the UK, developed by the Museums Association, which outlines ethical principles for all museums in the UK and represents the general consensus of the sector on ethical standards, a so called Disposal Toolkit – Guidelines for Museums was published.13 The Code of Ethics for Museums of the UK Museums Association supports the disposal of items from museum collections, as long as disposal meets all the legal requirements in force. According to the Code, disposal is characterized as being ethical when it is undertaken: within the framework of a clearly defined collections development policy; on the advice and with the common decision of the specialized staff (not of one individual) and is agreed by the governing body; it is done with the intention that, wherever possible, the items to be disposed remain in the public domain; the disposal is unlikely to damage public trust in museums and it is likely to increase the public benefit derived from museum collections.14 Before undertaking the disposal of any museum item, the intended outcome of the disposal process should be considered and articulated. If the desired outcome cannot be achieved, the decision should be reviews. Decisions must be made within the context of an approved collections development policy; be based on clearly expressed intended outcomes; demonstrate long-term benefit to the museum collection, public use of and engagement with museum collections. Unacceptable disposal of a museum item is defined as any disposal undertaken for financial reasons (unless in exceptional circumstances; on an ad hoc basis (i.e. other than as part of an approved collections development policy); without considering advice from a person with specialist knowledge of the field. Considering the above, we may say that the deaccession issue has become a serious subject of debate for more and more countries, with pros and cons, in their attempt to identify the best legal and administrative solutions for the benefit of the museums and the society. In Romania, we cannot speak of deaccessioning as a process in its own right. The issue is not sensitive and ethically controversial, but, according to the national legal 12 Code of Ethics for Museums (2008), 20. 13 Disposal Toolkit- Guidelines for Museums (2014). 14 Idem, 7.

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framework, deaccession process is virtually inapplicable. Most museums in Romania are public property, whether they are managed by the central government body, in this case the Ministry of Culture and National Identity, or by a regional or local government. Likewise, the vast majority of museum assets in our museums are public property and carry the public property characteristics, meaning that they are inalienable, imprescriptible and non-seizable. By law, museum items may only be given in administration or in possession, rented out or leased.15 The rule of inalienability of public goods is not invalidated by the possibility of attaching them specific real rights such as the right to administer, the right of concession or the real right to use, nor is it invalidated by the possibility of renting them out. As such, we cannot speak of the disposal or the acquisition of proprietary assets from the public domain, but only about specific ways of exercising the right of public ownership under public law.16 Taking into account the public property character of the items in the collections of the Romanian museums, the deaccession, as a museum practice in its own right, is virtually unfeasible. This is, in fact, the main reason why the issue had not been tacked on at great length and the reason way event the term “deaccession” was taken up as such from the English language, in the absence of an equivalent term in Romanian, defining this procedure precisely. Hence, confusion occurs when trying to match the meaning of the English word to any similar word in Romanian, such as “declasificare” (declassification)17, “casare” (disposal) or “dezafectare” (decommissioning). In fact, none of these terms is a perfect synonym for the English word “deaccession”, as one may see from our considerations below. The term “declasificare” (declassification) means the removal from the legal categories of the national cultural heritage of a classified movable cultural asset and its deletion from the inventory of the fund or, as appropriate, from the fund of the national cultural heritage thesaurus. Declassification of movable cultural goods takes place at the request of property owners or ex officio, in the following cases: invalidation of the expert’s appraisal, destruction or serious damage that

cannot be remedied by restoration.18 Following the declassification procedure, the declassified cultural asset in question changes its legal status, following its removal from the national cultural heritage inventory, but it does not change its owner or the holder of other real rights over it, nor is it eliminated from the museum collection. The term “casare” (write-off) is not applicable to movable cultural items belonging to the national or museum cultural heritage, even if it is a commonly used term. The procedure in the case of national or museum cultural heritage items consists of derecognizing mobile cultural goods from the balance sheet. In the case of items classified in the national cultural heritage in museum collections, the writing-off can only be done in the case of destroyed or disappeared items. Thus, derecognizing from the balance sheet of movable cultural goods classified as Thesaurus is subject to approval by order of the Minister of Culture and National Identity, on the basis of the opinion of the National Commission of Museums and Collections, and derecognizing items classified under the Fund category is subject to approval by the relevant department of the Ministry of Culture and National Identity. The board of the public institutions holding movable cultural assets may approve the removal from the inventory of objects from the Fund category, for exchanging them with other similar institutions. In the case of the cultural property that were claimed and returned to their former owners, the removal from the inventory is subject in all the cases to a final and irrevocable restitution decision delivered by the court.19 If we were to use the term “dezafectare” (decommissioning), the core meaning of the world is “change of destination”, with reference to immovable property, or “disposal”, with reference too certain categories of movable property. In the case of assets in the public domain, the decommissioning can be done only after transferring the assets to the private domain, under the provisions of Law no. 213/1998 on public property, as subsequently amended and supplemented, but these legal provisions refer to immovable property.20

15 The New Civil Code (Law ...) Art. 861, para. (1), (3).

Considering the legal framework regarding the characters of the public property right, the deaccession,

16 Stoica V., voi. I, nr. 188, p. 428 https://legeaz.net/noul-cod-civil/ art-861-caracterele-dreptului-de-proprietate-publica-dispozitiigenerale. 17 Government Decision no. 886/2008 for the approval of the rules for classifying mobile cultural goods, Art. 23, para. (1).

18 Law no. 182/2000, Art. 19 and Government Decision no. 886/2008, Art. 24, para. (1). 19 OMC no. 2035/ 2000 , Art. 6-9. 20 Law no. 213/1998, Art. 10.

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as currently understood, cannot be applied by the museums in our country. And, in my opinion, things should remain as they are. No matter how tempting the deaccessioning may be in terms of proceeds or the clearing of museum collections from items that do no longer fit the profile of the other collections or the refined museum’s vision or mission statement, I believe that, in the current context of Romania, to advocate the relaxation of the legal framework in this field would be highly risky, leading to collection dispersion and to removal from the public circuit of some valuable cultural goods items.

References: Bergevoet, F., Kok, A., Wit, M. de, 2006, „Dutch Guideline for Deaccessioning Museum Objects”, Instituut Collectie Nederland, 32 p. Code of Ethics for Museums – Ethical principles for all who work for or govern museums in the UK (2008), 23 p. Disposal Toolkit – Guidelines for Museums (copyright Museums Association 2014), https://www. museumsassociation.org/collections/disposaltoolkit Government Decision no. 886/2008 for the approval of the rules for classifying mobile cultural goods, Art. 23-24 ICOM Code of Ethics for Museums © ICOM, 2017 Dépôt légal juin 2017 ISBN 978-92-9012-420-7, p. 12-13 Kletchka, D. C., 2011, 27 January, Deacessioning Defined. http://www.personal.psu.edu/dck10/ blogs/danas_blog /2011/01/deacessioningdefined.html

The New Civil Code (Law no. 287/2009), Art. 861, para. (1),(3) OMC no. 2035/2000 for the approval of methodological rules regarding the evidence, management and inventory of cultural goods owned by museums, public collections, memorial houses, cultural centers and other specialized units, Art. 6-9 Pogrebin, R, „The Permanent Collection May Not Be So Permanent”, The New York Times, (27th January 2011) Schnapp, D., 2009, 20th October, „Lawsuit Over Deaccessioning Of The Brandeis Rose Art Museum Moves Forward”, https://artlaw.foxrothschild. com/tags/deacessioning/ Stoica, V., 2014, 27th January, vol. I, no. 188, p. 428 în https://legeaz.net/noul-cod-civil/art-861caracterele-dreptului-de-proprietate-publicadispozitii-generale Vecco, M. Piazzai, M. „Deaccessioning of museum collections: What do we know and where do we stand in Europe?”, Journal of Cultural Heritage 16 (2015), 221-227 Yerkovich,S.. 2015, March/April, „My Take: Detangling, Deaccessioning – Defining direct care reflects an ethical obligation”, Museum, http://www.aam-us.org/about-us/publications/ museum-magazine/archive/my-take-detanglingdeaccessioning Wijsmuller, D., Creative Culture Consultancy, Collectiestrategie | Collectiewaardering | Herbestemming, Raad voor Cultuur, Reinwardt Academy, Amsterdam Area, Olanda

Law no. 182 of 25th October 2000 (*re-republished*) on the protection of mobile national cultural herigate Law no. 213/1998 on public goods, as amended and supplemented, Art. 10 Malaro, M. C., Pogany de Angelis, I. (2012), A Legal Primer on Managing Museum Collections, 3rd ed., Smithsonian Books, Washington

Ioana Lidia Ilea, Phd Manager ”Octavian Goga” Memorial Museum ioanalidiailea@yahoo.com

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