This is the childhood home of the poet considered the greatest in the modern era
In Ploiesti, a city 60 km north of Bucharest, you can find a small hidden away street with a courtyard full of blooming trees, with an elegant house typical of the area. This is the memorial house dedicated to Nichita Stanescu, the poet said by the critics to be the greatest Romanian poet of the modern era. We went to this house, where the poet grew up, accompanied by the curator of the museum, Ioana Rosu. She shared with us a few thoughts about the museum and the poet it is dedicated to, Nichita Stanescu, who lived between 1933 and 1983. She told us about the significance of the place for the locals and for all Romanians:
"I want to recall and prove that our city, famous for its crude oil production, has also provided many people of value, such as playwright Ion Luca Caragiale, actor Toma Caragiu, and poet Nichita Stanescu. The latter has been promoted heavily since 1986, when the poetry festivals named after him were started. They take place every year on March 31, the date of his birth. This happened up until the year 2000, when we recovered the Stanescu family house, and we could start the process of bringing him back home. This is the home of his birth. We were incredibly lucky back then to have his sister, Mariana, to guide us and advise us in restoring the house the way it was when the poet was growing up."
We continued our incursion into Nichita Stanescu's life going through the museum and its exhibits, with stories about his childhood. Ioana Rosu led us through it:
"We have here a few manuscripts, with biographical data, photos, diplomas, but this is mostly his childhood home. In his bedroom we have on top of his bed a teddy bear, which was dear to him when he was a kid. We also have his writing desk when he was in school, and the upright piano he played when he got back from school. We have a lot of the family's belongings, which were given back to be seen here. The keeper of most objects was his sister Mariana, since he lived most of his life in Bucharest, even though he was never officially a resident of the city. He spent his youth there. The most valuable are the books with dedications, autographs, the prizes. I would mention the two most important prizes, because the Writer Union gave him awards for every single volume of poetry. His highest achievements, though, were the 1976 Herder Award, which he got in Vienna in 1976, for his volume Elegies, and the 1982 Struga Poetry Evenings Award, which he got in what is now North Macedonia, a beautiful golden wreath that is now displayed in a glass case, the main attraction for visitors. Many a poet has coveted this prize, but Nichita actually got it. He grew up with a nanny, Ana Silaghi, who raised and educated him. He was getting piano lessons at home, starting from the age of 6. His mother, Tatiana, noticed he had an ear for music. In a radio interview, sometime in 1975, she said that if he hadn't been a poet, he probably would have been a great musician. He had everything he needed, in addition to his mother's support. Tatiana Stanescu said that he wrote his first poem when he was in kindergarten. One autumn day, she recalled, she was cooking in the courtyard, and she heard him babbling something, and asked him what he was saying. He recited the poem to her, and she went in the house to jot it down. She showed it to him when he was older, it was a poem with a pace and rhyme, written by a preschooler. He was a feisty kid, a true Aries, a fire sign. In school, his math teacher said that he was writing epigrams in class, and so he didn't push him much in that subject matter, even though many of his poems feature mathematics, such as The Lesson About The Cube, The Lesson About the Circle, or Geometry, which some say is a mathematical poem. He had a great childhood, but also a bad period. He lived through the bombings, the Americans were bombing the city of Ploiesti and the oil refineries there, so the Stanescu family locked up their home and fled. Luckily for them, the house was untouched by the bombs, but the child wasn't, some images stuck with him, because in his poetry we often find images of soldiers, or of burning trees. These things were imprinted in his memory."
For the end of our visit to the quaint and beautiful memorial house, Ioana Rosu told us her impression of the place:
"I am trying to tell people that this is a welcoming place, and many cross its threshold with the feeling that Nichita is close by, that he could even be their host. He lived to the fullest, he was a torch burning bright. He passed away too quickly, but Nichita lived in 50 years what others wouldn't in 150 years, and that is all that matters."
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