Voicu Popescu is one of the most dynamic and respected choral conductors in Romania. He has conducted the Radio Children's Choir, the "Sound" Choir, and between 2011 and 2014, after Marin Constantin's passing, he temporarily took over as conductor and artistic director of the "Madrigal" Choir during a period of deep emotional vulnerability for the ensemble. As someone who was once a member of the "Madrigal" Choir, Voicu Popescu reflects on his maestro, Marin Constantin, with appreciation, and his testimony, both as a chorister and a conductor, holds great significance in the context of Marin Constantin's centennial celebration.

Let's begin this conversation with Marin Constantin himself. Many who knew him describe him as a particularly strong personality. Would you agree?

Marin Constantin had a commanding presence. From the very first moment, the first eye contact, you could feel that he was dominant-he led the conversation and elevated it to a very high level. Within just a few words, you knew you were in a different realm. He sought to understand you, to see if what he envisioned for his dream aligned with you. And I say "his dream" because everything Marin Constantin did was driven by an unwavering, persistent, and even strict pursuit of his grand vision: to build a choir with a sound that combined the purity of Renaissance music-the "white" sound of boys' choirs that once sang in great cathedrals-with adult male voices, creating a contrast that was quite unfamiliar to our choral tradition. That "white" sound was what he sought in each of us. I felt the impact of his personality very strongly, but it was not discouraging. He was like a treasure hunter-when he found something within you that fit his vision and pleased him, he would give you that satisfaction, and you knew you were on the right path. Marin Constantin, beyond his strictness and desire for excellence, was also someone who encouraged and lifted you up, taking you to the heights he dreamed of.

So, his strictness wasn't inhibiting, but rather the opposite…

I must admit, I would leave rehearsals feeling like I was flying. He charged you with his energy and passion for excellence, and you became part of the performance itself. There was nothing crushing about it-it was a dialogue: "he asks, you give," and from there, a constructive exchange began. His strictness only served to strip away unnecessary elements from the artistic process. His main concern was to purify the sound, removing the vibrato that was commonly used at the time. This approach was controversial within the choral community in the early years until people began to understand and accept it.

Was it difficult to develop the distinctive "Madrigal" sound?

It was quite a long journey. I was fortunate to be part of the refining and shaping process of the "Madrigal" sound in the early 1970s. The goal remained the same, but new facets kept emerging. By the time we recorded the second Christmas carol album in 1982, I felt we had reached the pinnacle of that pure, flexible, and graceful sound that we now associate with "Madrigal."

How would you define the "Madrigal" sound?

This "white" sound… You know, in art, Impressionism brought daylight into painting. Similarly, "Madrigal" introduced a sound that was like daylight for music. Just as an Impressionist painter dreamed of working with shades of white, "Madrigal" sang with tones of "white" sound-or, as the maestro liked to say, with "ineffable colors." The idea of the ineffable was always part of our rehearsals, stimulating the imagination of the choristers. From there, Marin Constantin found the right path for "Madrigal" in terms of repertoire. This was another challenge because not all repertoires suited this type of sound. However, he always sought what was appropriate: early music, Byzantine ison, Romanian Christmas carols, authentic Romanian folklore (as the choir also performed such pieces), and, of course, contemporary music. His work even led to the creation of a new school of composition, as the emergence of such a powerful and unique vocal instrument encouraged contemporary composers to write at a completely different level compared to how choral music was performed in Romania in the 1960s.