If the ethos is the face of a community’s sensibility, and music is one of the richest and most expressive characteristics of Romanian sensibility, as noted by George Enescu, then one of the artists that most clearly and thrillingly conveyed that sensibility during the last decades of the previous century was undoubtedly Vasile Iovu.
A difference
considered generally valid, and known paradigms that are part of a difference -
this a perfectly compensatory relationship, validated at home and in countries
where the Bassarabian artist was applauded. Ultimately, here and everywhere,
what does the public expect from the performing artist? Witchcraft? Magic? The
creation of a secret potion that generates emotions no one can control? Vasile
Iovu looks to find within sound the color, or more exactly, the palette of
colors that can shine a light on the exact resonance of discretion and
tenderness. He also focuses on the gravity and depth of sound, and this is the
way he sings the Romanian Doinaş and Ballads, and Balada by Ciprian Porumbescu.
But he does so not without showing a real art of vibration, the fascinating
gesture of the left arm that molds the shape and volume of sound, in order to
make the perfect lines of the instrumental belcanto a distinctive trademark of
his style, such as in Ave Maria by Caccini, Schubert and Bach-Gounaud, or
Gluck’s Melody, or Andante from Mozart’s Concerto no. 21, Franck’s Panis
Angelicus. This is where the savor and beauty of sound are concentratei!, a
schooled breathing technique, and, above aii, his lyrical vocation so
pronounced, his artistic soul penetrating the mystery of the timbre that fuels
the fascination with this instrument. This is the source of witchcraft, magic
and wonder, absorbing all areas of sensibility, including the small or
extensive appoggiaturas found in music of all genres, be they the thrilling
melismata in Descîntec, or the baroque and elegant embellishments in Corelli’s
Sonata no. 8, op. 3, or the grace of the restless bells in Mozart’s Fantasy in
D minor. An art which will open widely the doors for an apparently rudimentary instrument,
to the extent of being considered elevated and noble in the Bach’s Cantata
Jesu, Joy of Mans Desiring, and, at the same time, authentic and spectacular in
the native Ciocîrlia, which will fly freely within and without us. Accompanied
by a folk orchestra, or a symphonic orchestra (such as in Tudor Chiriacs Suita
Pe un picior de plai), or by the chamber ensemble that bears his name, or
seconded by Anna Strezeva’s organ, the range of Vasile Iovu’s pan flute spans
the most diverse eras, styles and music genres, enriching the listeners’
auditorv imagination and sensibility with sonorous ideas and interpretive
illustrations. Under the pressure of globalization, a maşter pan flutist should
feel best as himself in order to be original and unmistakable. However this is
only because originality springs from one’s gift of identifying oneself with
the uniqueness of Pan’s flute, the source of sounds that, according to legend,
only the chosen ones have access to, those anointed to decipher the mystery of
Pan God’s Iove for the beautiful nymph Syrinx, who takes the appearance and
soul of a pan flute.
The artist who
brought to life in the Bassarabian space the notion of „pan flute
professional”, befbre this became an accepted expression, was a pan flute
neophyte who withdrew at age 21 from flute classes taught in specialty schools,
first at the Special Music School „E. Coca” (today the Music High school “Ciprian
Porumbescu”), and later the „G. Musicescu” Conservatory in Chişinău. Taught by
professors Efim Tcaci and Filip Evtodienco, these were good flute schools that
cultivated his techniques, shaped his tastes and modelled his posture, and
equipped him to respond to the challenge that changed his destiny. The
well-known folklorist, the maşter of folk violin and the founder of the
National Radio-Television “Folclor” Orchestra, Dumitru Blajinu, offered him an
unusual role in the debut performance of this new orchestra: to play the pan
flute. And thus began everything: both the brilliant career of the pan flutist
Vasile Iovu, as well as the biography of the instrument with a double name,
“flute - Pan’s flute”, which meant, beyond the success enjoyed at home and
abroad, the establishment of a professional pan flute school that would go on
to surpass the limits of a local artistic phenomenon.
Vasile Iovu’s
choice of the pan flute, made during a dilemma all his own, points to his
origins, those of a boy born in a peasant family, in Bărdaru-Hînceşti, the
village where he spent his childhood before being selected at age 10 for
special music classes, his “secret place” that fed his sensibility and where he
discovered the ingenuity and beauty of folk music through his mother’s songs;
he called his mother, Maria, “the sapience of the earth”. Similarly, his
academic flutist background will later reemerge in the rigor and distinction of
an instrument to which he will impart a new repertoire, expression and musical
culture.
For the moment,
though, the “Folclor” Orchestra became his launching pad, an area of artistic
gestation, thanks to which, while studying the capabilities of the 23 tubes in
Dumitru Blajinus performances, Vasile Iovu soon became greatly appreciated and
requested by audiences. This popularity was due in part to the relevance of the
instrument and the performer’s charisma, but also due to the fact that this
music came to fiii a void in a period of utter stagnation and antinaţional
Soviet “Bodiulism” in the ‘70s, when - lo and behold - “the reed’s magic sound”
gave voice to a long repressed identity sensibility. Sîrba lui Iovu, Hora în
bătăi, La căsuţa părintească, Dragu-mi-i de codru verde, Sîrba din Iablona,
these and many other songs recorded for Radio-Television’s music collection or
performed in concert together with the “Folclor” Orchestra or other folk music
bands, songs for which he signed the orchestral arrangement or the score
itself, constituted the repertoire that brought him success, performed with the
conviction that folk music is the creation of authors who are not necessarily
anonymous. This conviction was fueled by the idea that, if the gold ingots of
ethno-folk samples are put in the hands of professional “jewelers”, “they can
become superior in quality, coherence and timbre purity”. Vasile Iovu’s name
also became known in the USSR when the young pan flutist won in 1974 the first
place in the Pop Artists Competition. This success was later repeated four
years later in socialist Cuba, in Havana where, according to soviet media, the
“Soviet Union’s representative” received the gold medal in the artistic competition
from among 18 thousand participants at the World Festival of Youth and
Students. The same period marks his first United States tour, where he
participated in a “Forum for the Soviet and American Youth” meant to reconcile,
after a long freeze, the two large powers of the world, the pan flute being
chosen from among the pacifist voices as a special instrument welcomed with
curiosity in New York, Washington and Atlanta. At home, the same Doinaş and
Ballads or Joc bătrînesc, or Melodie de dor would produce a spectacular healing
effect, for which the local poets and writers dedicated to the performer
eulogies of sincere admiration. As Grigore Vieru noted in a reverential article
at the time, this soul-piercing music, two-thousand years old, has the ability
to “teach us how not to die”.
Vasile Iovu was
loyally engaged as a soloist for over 40 years in the “Folclor” Orchestra
(which was initially led by Dumitru Blajinu, then by the conductor Petre
Neamţu) and was scandalously suspended for two years during the neo-communist
government that wanted to rid itself of “Romanians”, “nationalists” and
“rebels”. He also authored over 200 orchestral arrangements for instrumental
pieces and folk songs, which are kept in the Radio-Television archive. The
uncontested veteran of “Folclor” found that folk music provided the vein, the
“mother lode”, according to an interview, which fueled and imprinted continuity
to his idea that “folk music represents the nucleus of all genres”. This is not
a new idea if we remember all the music that was inspired by modal archetypes
or by certain folk themes that were assumed in the so-called “cultivated”
music. However, to state that Doina and Balada represent “classical Romanian
folk music” and to create your own works based on their archetypal syntax -
this was a different message that gave a new meaning to his interpretive
venture. Composed for the pan flute and organ and performed with Anna Strezeva,
Doina and Pastorala, together with the piece în amintirea mamei (In Memory of
Mother), are from beginning to end an expression of the modal thinking based on
folk roots. However, listening to the melodic fluidity generated by the two
instruments with essentially the same tubes and shapes, with the harmonic
refinement accompanying thematic developments, from the lyrical, barely
whispered, to the great dramatic peaks, ask yourselves if this can still be
considered “creatively-enriched folk music”? What are these flashes ofbreath?
These laments sounding like fatalities from a timeless world? What is this wail
in the third octave (that sounds as if it were in the fourth!) which bursts
open with suffering? This music contains great melodic themes, it is artful
both at a general and detailed level, with a rich inspiration as basis. But the
greatest accomplishment on the part of the author and performer is to sense and
achieve the dimensioning and generalization of this music through the
combination pan flute - organ. The organ’s presence manages to externalize the
art of the Doina, to exalt and elevate its drama to the level of ineffable
symbol. Vasile Iovu would reveal this Symbol to a fascinated public during a
1987 tour in France, together with Anna Strezeva, who described to the press an
emoţional moment from this trip. During a concert presented by the Bassarabian
artists at the Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre Church in Paris, Anna Strezeva’s organ
assistant, a young French woman, stopped turning her pages and switching the
ranks because her eyes welled up with tears at the sound of Pan’s flutes
evoking the Memory of Mother. The cocert was a great triumph!
In order to get
there, the one who debuted with Iovu’s Sîrba had to descend into folk music
first as a soloist, then as an arranger, and then as the author of folk-style
works, in order to show that it is possible to stop the flow of “folk kitsch”
with a music that deciphers the uniqueness of an ethos, and doesn’t simply
mimic it. In 1976, Vasile Iovu publishes a collection of “Melodies and dances
for pan flute” which includes authentic folk music as well as folk-themed
compositions that became equally known and beloved. Which one of them is more
or less authentic? And which one of them are more or less enjoyed by the
listener? Vasile Iovu aimed to recast the original folk model as a professional
performer in order to present the essence of this music - “our eternal soul” -
from a different perspective, not limited to the ethno-cultural tradition. He
considered that “folk music must be enhanced”, and during the debates that took
place in the 80s related to the danger of substituting “re-makings” for
authentic itself, on condition that both be subjected to the value test. It is
a point of view that reveals the concert performer that practices a concert
repertoire, but who is also greatly gifted to follow his instincts and decide
to express both the anonymous and his and inspiration with the force of native
uniqueness.
When the first pan
flute class opens in 1973 at the Art Institute, and 12 years later at the Music
Academy “G. Musicescu”, the pan flute school, initiated, articulated and
perpetuated by Vasile Iovu, was finally officially recognized; until then, this
school practically did not exist in the Bassarabian space. The method of study
in this class, whose mentor could be no other but Vasile Iovu, was based on the
principie that adopts academic music as support for the study of a tradiţional
instrument and repertoire. In other words, in order to be a professional, not
an amateur, one needs to play Vivaldi, Cimarosa, Scarlatti, one needs to
practice and cultivate the perfect proportions and forms of Bach, one needs to
learn the beautiful lightness in Mozart’s music and the virtuoso techniques of
the romantic repertoire. This principie was solidified in the “Pan flute
Method” published in 1982 and applied in teaching several classes of students.
Some of them were not even his own pan flute students, but rather fans who,
having studied with other professors that had been among Iovus students, came
to follow him, to assume his techniques, methods and repertoire, and to assist
him in concerts and recitals that aroused their artistic imagination. Just as
Iovu came to be obsessed with Gheorghe Zamfir and admired his mythical halo as
“pan flute king”, Vasile Iovus pan flute became the object of obsession for
some of his own admirers, students of new pan flutists generation, for whom he
came to symbolize a living legend, a beacon, a model, if not a sacred monster
to follow.
Previously, in
Soviet Bassarabia, tediously named MSSR (Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic),
music schools of all levels, including the Conservatory, taught Russian folk
instruments, which produced professional balalaika and bayan players, while the
study of local instruments was limited to marginal classes meant for amateur
bands. The fight to open classes for naţional instruments in the 80s, including
for the pan flute, and the achievement to ensure their survival and
“westernization” amid the soviet occupation regime - that is a different story,
one too long and dramatic to teii here, however one that today is part of the
history of the glorious Bassarabian folk orchestras, and part of the biography
of some well-known performers. What bears mention here is that, at the time
when the authorities were pondering the dilemma of whether to accept the
curriculum changes, an iniţiative which suspiciously bore resemblance to a
“naţionalist drive”, Vasile Iovus personality, his prestige bolstered by awards
and titles bearing Moscow’s endorsement, would convince the watchmen of
cultural policy to acquiesce. The pan flute, the dulcimer, the
tarragot-clarinet, as well as the folk violin would finally displace the
balalaika, and later the bayan, the reconquered Conservatory department
becoming naţional, rather than Russian. The instinct to survive in the empire,
cornered and assaulted, would score a little victory.
Some would say
that Vasile Iovu was born under a lucky star and they would be right; his
artistic personality continued its course regardless of the weather and
regardless of the authorities’ attempts to cast his as a cultural
representative of the “great family USSR nations”. Vasile Iovu would be granted
the titles of Honored Artist and Naţior Artist, he would be adored by the
public and favored by the authorities, and the Studio “Telefilm-Chişinău” would
produce four documentaries between 1970-80 about Vasi-e Iovu and his
repertoire, which included the impressive journey of the pan flute in s of the
most exotic countries, to Nepal, India, Sri Lanka, the Philippines, then to Australia
and Japan, concurrently with his performances in European countries, both communist
and capitalist. These incredible escapes were made possible courtesy of the
Association for Friendship with Foreign Countries, a Soviet-type “impresario”
and KGB structure set up to monitor cultural exchanges, however at the time the
only means a folk music artist hâd of communicating with the musical
establishment abroad. During one of his many tours with the “Mioriţa” Ensemble,
this time to the Netherlands, while remaining a soloist: : the “Folclor”
Orchestra of the Radio-Television, Vasile Iovu received his first employmerr
offer as a pan flute professor at the Amsterdam Conservatory. This of course would
ne: be mentioned in the “Telefilm-Chişinău” documentaries about Iovu. Moreover,
the USSR embassy in the Netherlands never replied to the Bassarabian pan
flutist’s applicatior.: work in the Dutch capital.
Winding back, at
25 years of age, his ship was just setting sail, on a long and exciting
journey, one that would have a solid landmark - the deşire to always return
home. Home were the “Folclor” Orchestra and his pan flute teaching classes,
fertile grounds for his experiments, home was family, which he started at a young
age, with the certainty the: Margareta Pînzaru, TV director and admirer of
Romanian music and supporter ot the Latin script, which they used to write each
other secret letters before getting married. would be the woman he would spend
his life with. Although their marriage would talter years later and their
divorce made headlines (as is always the case with local celebritic' their
child, Doina (a rare name in the c70s in Soviet Bassarabia) and their
grandchild. Alexandru, seem to have saved at least one beautiful episode of
this marriage. His fate would nonetheless continue its trajectory, destined to
accomplish the mission of the artist as we know it today. The folklorist Andrei
Tamazlîcaru identified Vasile Iovu as the performer “who knew how to awaken our
subconscious, the code of Romaniar. spirituality” during a time when he was
opposed to the domination of the “drinking song”; during his tours, the boldest
headline in the Bassarabian media of the 80s would audaciously announce that “Audiences
everywhere stand up for the Doinaş and the Ballads”. Two very different
geographical spaces united thanks to an excepţional artis:
The fall of the
Soviet empire in 1991 changed not only borders but also mentalities, ar d
stimulated a new order of things in a new and reborn world; the breath of
freedom als< came to Bassarabia. The sequester of denationalization and of
lies also fell, amid a stor:' hope, of the thirst for truth, which dispelled
the old myths; this space was spontaneom overcome with massive Street protests,
with tens of thousands of people, full of enthusiasm and waving the tricolor
flag, feverishly rediscovered their own identity - a Romanian identity. This
atmosphere was ideal for a pan flute concert in the National Square, led by Vasile
Iovu who invited pan flutists of all ages from both sides of the river Prut.
But first he wanted to see his dream come true - that of playing in Chişinău on
the same stage with his idol, Gheorghe Zamfir. Iovu - Zamfir in a beautiful
match on the stage of the National Palace and the Organ Hali - who could have
dreamed such as feast? Concerts tuli of splendor and ecstatic passions, the two
artists becoming an expression of hopeful times they would live together with
their audiences. The blockages caused by nostalgia, errors and lost illusions
would come later, however at that time the incandescent atmosphere fueled by
the naţional spirit would reach its peaks, and the sound of the two Romanian
pan flutes would carry the joy of that freedom. The creative freedom would fuse
with the political freedom and - remember this historic moment! - would have
the power to raise the artist to the level of naţional icon.
The start of the
90s was generally appearing favorable to Iovu’s idea of building an academic repertoire,
which fell on fertile ground: Pan’s flute was perfectly assimilated and the
access to Western concert halls was open. If Doina’s revelation came to mean
the expression of the timbre, its mystery could not be understood in depth and
revealed without exploring the classic scores. This was a natural conclusion
for the performer-professor who saw the entire teaching repertoire metamorphose
and emerge in its shining glory on stage. In 1992 he established a chamber
ensemble to accompany him on his tours, the “Vasile Iovu” Ensemble (two
violins, a dulcimer, a base, a clarinet and two pan flutes, one of them his of
course), and thus was able to finally see his dream come true. That of weaving
the voice of his pan flute with the most distinguished and refined classical
operas in front of European audiences. The baroque splendor, Albinoni, Vivaldi,
Corelli, Caccini, would be the surest way toward a concentrated expression of a
popular repertoire, together with the classical, “painfully melodic” classical
hits. It is here that the myth of the Pan God appears to become reality,
spreading a thrilling, passionate perfume in Mozart’s Elvira Madigan, or
exalting the melancholy and lyrical effusions of romanticism when the
breath-soul of the pipes animate Schubert’s Serenade, or Solveig’s Song by
Grieg, or the excessive emotions permeating each sound of Tchaikovsky s
Sentimental Waltz. His temperament would stubbornly gravitate towards the h
rical pan flute, towards that sentimental floating that would take the shape of
the harmon: us sounds, of the warm timbre, of its mysterious energy discreetly
surrounding the mei c its suppleness and absolute beauty. Or... perhaps the
performance itself create' ane shapes the artist, helps him find his own
emotions and reveal them to himselt and those who listen? Whatever the answer,
the exaltations of the soul, those heartbreakings laments that pour out of his
lyrical pan flute, this emoţional efficiency, this voluptu and pleasure to bare
himself to the audience can only spring from the fantasy and crea:: ir. of his
artistic mind and soul.
Behold an expert
legato, profound and ample, with a generous breath, to be admired in Bach’s
Chorale in G major; as well as in the Minuet from the Suite in B minor, after
it had been thought for the longest time that an instrument like the pan flute
is limitec to a reduced set of capabilities. In short, that it counts
exclusively as a staccafo-playing instrument. A simple or double staccato would
be Vasile Iovu’s ace reserved for Dans ţărănesc, a cello work of “imagined
folklore” by the Romanian composer C. Dumitrescu as well as for the Scherzo
from the same Bach Suite, or for Mozart’s Concerts in G and D major for flute
and orchestra. Transposed for Pan’s flute, accompanied by piano or ensemble, and
representing two different worlds, Dumitrescu’s fierce color and waggish tone
and Mozart’s “playful sound”, though a playfulness necessarily pushed to
emotion. these creations would confirm the looseness of an instrument that is
perfectly adaptable t compositions that represent completely different styles
and eras. Of course, on condition that it’s absolute sovereign is Vasile Iovu.
The pan flute’s
ability to approach different styles and genres would lead to the association
and presence of Eugene Doga’s music in Iovu’s current repertoire. Theirs was a
relationship of communicating vessels, productive and stimulating for both
sides thanks to the composer’s insistence that Iovu’s pan flute - his sound,
timbre, color and originality -be present in Eugene Doga’s scores, which graced
the grandiose music shows organized in USSR’s largest cities and continuously
provided material for Mosfilm’s soundtrack needs. A partnership that lasted,
loyally and soundly, over many years, from one century to another and from one
era to another, the Soviet era being replaced by the transition period, opening
new avenues and stages, including the Romanian ones. Would the two artists,
formed during the failed empire and applauded before in Moscow, Leningrad,
Kiev and Minsk,
and in icy Siberia, imagine that they would be together again, this time on the
stage of the Romanian Athenaeum, on the occasion of the Great Union’s 90th
anniversary? That they would be (yes!) Romanian artists and not “Soviet Union
cultural representatives”? The two artists are united through the ancestral
sound of the pan flute, as well as through their own creative force, always
looking for and finding each other: Doga - in the creative performance of
Vasile Iovu’s pan flute, and Iovu - in the melodic bliss and lyrical intensity
of Doga’s music. Their personal and artistic friendship would follow different
laws than those dictated by circumstanţial suspense, which would defeat many
great names of the music art on Prut’s left bank, such as Canio’s famous tenor,
or the distinguished baton, grizzled in time, of the Symphonic Orchestra of the
Teleradio Moldova Company, who, under political pressure, would give up
participation at the Union show in Bucharest. For Doga and Iovu, however, it
was an extraordinary chance to definitively test their creative friendship and
their affiliation with the same values, both Romanian and universal in nature.
While Vasile
Iovu’s performances would become less frequent and only on the occasion of
“creative evenings” as part of various programs sponsored by event organizers,
his priorities would change and he would connect with impresario agencies from
abroad.
In a sign of
respect for his artistic status, first managers from Moscow, then the German
agency “Althoff”, specialized in the former Soviet space, and, at last, his
brother Gheorghe Iovu’s company in Austria, would organize and monitor the
soloist’s tours with his “Vasile Iovu” Ensemble in some of Europe’s most
prestigious concert halls. On the stage of the Berliner Philharmonic, or the
Mozart Hali in Mannheim, or at the Beethovenhalle in Bonn, or on the stage of
the Congress Hali in Strasbourg, or in Vienna, in the huge Votive Church, able
to accommodate two thousand people and famous for its acoustics - everywhere he
went, maestro Vasile Iovu’s Pan’s flute - flute de Pan - Panflote - Pan-pipe
would honor the sacred monsters and the establishments that bear their names
with programs whose posture, style and rigor would ştir the admiration of his
audiences. The pan flute show would appear in a double role: during the first
act, wearing a bow tie suit, the ensemble would play classical music, and
during the second act, wearing folk clothes, they would play tradiţional folk
as well as folk-style pieces from aii the areas of the Great Romania. “Have we
ever seen such ovations?” rhetorically asks the German newspaper “Dienstag” in
November 1995. “The prolonged applause were the audiences thanksgiving for an
excepţional concert to musicians who deserve the highest qualifier of
internaţional class” - this excerpt deserves to be reproduced ad literam,
especially since it is known that the German public and press are less
exuberant and naturally calculated in offering exaggerated “epithets”; this
time they would not restrained thcir admiration, with many newspapers calling
these concerts “Fest der Panflote” - “Pan flute Fest”.
The three CD’s
launched by the “Vasile Iovu” Ensemble in 2013 paint a loyal picture of this
period and its original style, with a hallucinating excursus from the European
compositional tradition to the folkloric one, and then on to the entertainment
style, a picture that expounds upon each soloist’s degree of mastery (pan
flute, clarinet, violin, dulcimer), upon the ensemble as a whole, which has
been appreciated in Western concert halls over more than 20 years. Fiere we
have a folk and classical music bând, dominated by the pan flute, unique in
Bassarabia, which would iniţiate a European foray; a group of professionals,
always different, but having a constant guide and the same principles of
repertoire and performing requirements; a laboratory for the adaptation and
transposition of dozens of scores from the universal and naţional music
literature to the pan flute and other instruments; an “instrument” which, by
way of its introduction to the Western European concert circuit, would in fact
test the performing art of Pan’s flute in particular and of the Bassarabian
performing arts in general, formerly considered as provincial.
This foray would
also validate an artist against his ensemble, without whom he would have
perhaps remained within the pre-defined parameters of USSR cultural-artistic
delegate touring the world thanks to the so-called pacifist missions of the
Association for Friendship with Foreign Countries. The new concert season of
his life, one that was' marked by freedom, difficulty, pragmatism, independence
and commercialism, would in fact reconfirm the identity of a professional
artist, his passion for performing, his ability to win over audiences
regardless of era, political system, manner of organizing and compensating
performances: in the Romanian Ciocîrlia or Schubert’s Ave Mar ia, his pan flute
would be applauded with equal enthusiasm in Moscow, Delhi, Manila, Tokyo or,
more recently, in Ziirich, Vienna, Mannheim, Bonn or Rome.
As an artist in
full glory, after many years of hesitation and loneliness, Vasile Iovu would
marry an unknown singer of folk music from the countryside, Maria Strătilă, the
woman that would embody for him everything that a disappointed man and a lonely
artist needs. Spicy and beautiful in her own way, with Black eyes and dark
hair, 13 years younger than him, her voice was in the exact register (upper
register) that he liked from the moment he heard her sing as part of an amateur
folk bând in Şoldăneşti. Though she would never go on to become a professional
singer, her discreet, warm and feminine voice would appear alongside her
husbands pan flute in their CD symbolically titled “Love is like a flower”. For
the duration of their marriage, suddenly interrupted by Maria’s terrible death
due to a medical error, she would choose to do what she liked best: manage
their own small, private restaurant, as well as the family money, supervise,
stimulate, protect and care for her husband, loving the artist in him. This was
her way of being an artist’s spouse, though it is rare when love extends beyond
the human condition to become part of the shadow of an artist’s glory. Busy
with tours, his repertoire, transpositions, orchestrations, teaching, everyday
practice, he would have the certainty that his day-to-day life is safe,
protected by her. Sadly, Maria’s life ended suddenly. A year after her passing,
he would dedicate to her memory a concert of the grieving pan flute, “A love
broken by fate”, a concert that translated into music the pain of his
loneliness, which snatched him from his happy life and left him face-to-face
with himself- the artist of great lyrical passions, emanating from his lonely
soul, left from now on without his Iove.
The Bassarabian
pan flute’s initiation road into the world that began in the 70s woidd continue
and grow. In 1983, in Japan, Vasile Iovu was asked to teach the first pan flute
lesson, and would receive as a gift a Japanese... Pan’s flute.
Then in 1989, in
Australia, he would be invited for maşter classes and a professorship at the
Brisbane Conservatory.
At the end of the
80s, French audiences would curiously mount the stage after a pan flute - organ
recital in order to “better see the little organ”, and soon after, during the
last decade of the century, many music schools in several European countries would
open study classes for the new instrument. The instrument’s students in
Austria, Germany, the Netherlands, France, Switzerland would follow “Vasile
Iovu” Ensemble’s tours from city to city in order to receive pan flute lessons
during the shows and after the shows, this “method” being so reminiscent of
Vasile Iovu’s first escape to Vilnius in order to meet the “pan flute king”,
Gheorghe Zamfir. Everywhere, he would meet passionate pan flute amateurs and
pedantic collectors of records of the greatest performers, beginning with
Gheorghe Zamfir and Vasile Iovu, and became convinced that the empire of the
Pan God is expanding and conquering new lands. Lands where listeners’ hearts
and souls belonged to him. Is it the sound that generates such fascination? Harmonies
that produce an inexplicable emoţional effect through their vibrations in
Doină, or in the ideal lines of Bach’s music, or in Schubert’s rustling? andforemost,
be himself.
The ancestral
tubes of the Lonely Shepherd seem to belong less to its author, James Last, and
more to Gheorghe Zamfir. Their breath that melts into such an unmistakable
lyrical passion, the emoţional intensity they arouse, their supple and refined
breath that perfectly follows the beauty of the music, this Lonely Shepherd that
belongs to a sensibility that cannot be comforted, just like the longing for
home cannot be comforted, for the mountains, the sea, the sky of Romania, this
nostalgic and mysterious “loner” would certainly belong to Vasile Iovu’s pan
flute. In a contorted world that serves up too much truth, today we need more
beauty. This is an older idea, sustained by the balance between the classical
harmony and the new, between the musical substance and the novelty of the sound
layer that seems to create an unexpected “frequency” of beauty. Flashes of pan
flute sound we can all admire like “flowers that never disappoint”.
Just like the
French, at one point we would ask ourselves: what is this “little organ” of
maestro Vasile Iovu? This instrument would reveal the generosity of its
horizons and its universal vocation, although we ourselves considered it
anciently indigenous. Miraculously, it would elegantly acquire the French art
of discretion and grace, it would navigate, vibrating, the sublime cantilenas
of the Italian music, it would trace the perfect shapes of the Viennese
classicism, and would easily embody the convolutions of modern music, while
remaining the same instrument manufactured by the known pan flutist and
self-taught folk artist, Petre Zaharia, the authentic pan flute which, in time,
has the same age as Romanian folklore. Flutist - pan flutist? Performer -
professor? Bassarabian - Romanian? European artist? Partially all of the above,
Vasile Iovu would, first and foremost, be himself, the artist that absorbed a
tradition and himself became a new tradition in the history of Pan’s flute.
Objectively - or luckily? - Moldovan authorities ot all political colors would
always be loyal to him: in 2000, on his 50th birthday, he would be awarded the
Order of the Republic and the National Award, and a year later, he would
receive a university professorship at the pan flute class of the Music Academy.
Today, several generations of pan flutists, the younger Iulian Puşcă, Andrei
Donţu, or those already established, Ştefan Negură, Ion Malcoci, Marin Gheras,
Igor Podgoreanu, to name just a few of the best, are proof of the entrenchment
of new techniques and a new repertoire that are the product of a new pan flute
school, so spectacularly displayed in 1993 at the International Pan flute
Festival in Chişinău. Vasile Iovu, the Pan’s flute artis: that would be called
to naturalize this instrument in countries with totally different traditions
than his birth place Bărdaru, would choose the left bank of the river Prut.
The sourse of information is the book Păstrătorul solitar sau Naiul lui Vasile Iovu written by Rodica Iuncu.
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