Conductor Cristian Mandeal has played a vital role in promoting Enescu's works, conducting both national and international premieres of some of the composer's most renowned scores. His discography includes the complete orchestral works of George Enescu-symphonies, suites, concertante pieces, and rhapsodies (works bearing opus numbers as well as those completed by Enescu himself). This complete collection, recorded in 1997 with the George Enescu Philharmonic Orchestra, then under his directorship, was produced by the international label Arte Nova Classics and made available to listeners worldwide. Now, on this commemorative occasion, we invite you to hear Maestro Mandeal's passionate plea to love George Enescu's music.

Maestro Cristian Mandeal, Enescu's oeuvre has always held great importance for you, and you've championed it through premieres-both national and international-by including his scores in the repertoire of the orchestras you've worked with over time. You've also recorded an Enescu anthology, some pieces appearing for the first time on disc. For the legacy of these works to endure, having a discography is essential. On many occasions, your work has been pioneering, opening doors for George Enescu's compositions. Please tell us about the premieres you've realized throughout the years!

Indeed, there have been discographic premieres, but also first performances of major Enescu works in venues or cultural spaces previously inaccessible to his music. One such example is the opera Oedipus, which I presented in its British premiere at the Edinburgh Festival in 2002, with an absolutely extraordinary international cast, accompanied by the BBC Scottish Orchestra and the BBC Chorus. The performance was extremely well received. I recall some nine reviews in the British press, all full of superlatives. The broadcast on BBC Radio 3 came with highly favorable commentary. The British were, in fact, surprised-and somewhat self-critical-that an opera which had premiered in Paris 65 years prior had never before been performed in the UK. They hoped that the Edinburgh production would help the opera take root in the UK-and indeed, it did. Oedipus was later staged not only in Britain but also in Brussels and other locations. The opera began to circulate more widely and enter the consciousness of concert and opera programmers. That was one major step. Later, I conducted another premiere of Oedipus, the Italian premiere, at the Teatro Lirico in Cagliari. We gave seven performances plus a dress rehearsal with audience, totalling about 11,000 spectators-again, to glowing reviews and endless ovations after each performance.

How important was it to you to present this premiere in the very country where this genre - opera - was born?

It certainly felt like a risk-after all, this was in the land of opera itself, and the Italians aren't exactly accustomed to such a musical language. Even so, I vividly recall that the applause lasted 15 to 20 minutes. The enthusiasm for the opera was overwhelming.

I've conducted other premieres as well. For instance, the symphonic poem Isis, completed by Pascal Bentoiu, as well as Symphony No. 4, also completed by Maestro Bentoiu-I premiered both. And then there's the famous Caprice Roumain, which I not only premiered but also recorded with the "George Enescu" Philharmonic, in the version completed by Cornel Țăranu.

Isis and Symphony No. 4-how did it come about that you were the one to present them for the first time?

Maestro Bentoiu entrusted these works to me after completing the reconstructions of these unfinished compositions. It was a similar case with the Caprice Roumain, in which Sherban Lupu was the soloist-his contribution was essential to shaping and enriching the solo violin part. As a virtuoso violinist, he had a deep understanding of Enescu's intentions from the sketches and contributed beautifully to the final violin version. In this project, there were essentially three key contributors: Cornel Țăranu, Sherban Lupu, and myself-with the "George Enescu" Philharmonic, which performed and recorded the piece for Electrecord. I used the scores exactly as they were handed to me by those who had reconstructed the material from Enescu's sketches. They struck me as extremely successful, expertly crafted, and deeply respectful-animated by a genuine love for Enescu. Both Bentoiu and Țăranu profoundly admired Enescu and devoted their full creative and intellectual resources to completing these truncated or unfinished works.

Take the Caprice Roumain as an example-it has four parts. The first is entirely completed by George Enescu himself, with signature and date, full orchestration, the entire apparatus. Beginning with the second part, however, the material had to be reconstructed-a process I liken, humorously, to archaeology, where a single bone fragment of a prehistoric animal is used to reconstitute the whole creature. This is exactly what these two dedicated composers achieved, and I had the honor and joy to be chosen to present their reconstructions in premiere performances.

You mentioned the Enescu symphonic anthology you recorded. I recorded the complete orchestral works for BMG-Aliora, on the Arte Nova label. It was distributed worldwide-everywhere except Romania. Unfortunately, Romania never expressed interest in purchasing the rights from BMG. So, you can find those recordings from Japan to the United States-everywhere except Romania.

In an interview, you once said that if Enescu didn't assign an opus number to a work, it likely meant he didn't consider it finished or worthy of his catalogue. You've described the trend of presenting unfinished or student works as doing a disservice to his legacy. Yet, you conducted Voix de la nature-a symphonic poem of which only a first section exists. How did you come upon the manuscript, and why did you choose to present it publicly?

Because Voix de la nature is not a compositional exercise; it is an unfinished but authentic work, a kind of torso. What remains of it clearly reflects Enescu's mature and highly refined musical language, one that is fully formed and technically sophisticated-a true imprint of a great personality. It's a shame it was never completed. These five minutes are finished to the smallest detail, as though meant to be continued-but continuation never came. So, it's certainly not one of Enescu's youthful or student compositions.

Where does it fall within the chronology of his works?

It belongs to the mature creative period, alongside Symphonies Nos. 2 and 3. In terms of language, it's quite close to the tone poem Vox Maris-clearly a work of full maturity. I'm not referring here to the school exercises which, while clever and undoubtedly the fruit of genius, still belong to Enescu's formative years and do not, in my view, truly represent him. That representation begins with Opus 1 and beyond. He did compose excellent works after Poema Română (Romanian Poem) that didn't receive an opus number-but even these were not always taken seriously by the composer himself. Enescu already struggles to enter the international public's consciousness with his mature works-so how can we expect that to happen if we present his juvenilia as emblematic pieces, especially in prestigious contexts like the George Enescu Festival? Certainly not!

You noted that there's still a struggle to incorporate Enescu's music into the international repertoire. From a technical standpoint, what are the challenges involved in performing it?

The main issue with Enescu is his language-a language that is highly distinctive, not easily classifiable within the common or familiar musical idioms recognized by global audiences. It often surprises, perplexes, and is hard to grasp. Don't forget: according to Pascal Bentoiu, Enescu had an auditory capacity equivalent to that of seven normal humans. He imagined his works with an unparalleled level of dynamic subtlety, unmatched by other composers. In Oedipus, for instance, there are thousands of sounds, each with three or four additional notations on how they must be executed. Imagine the degree of nuance he required in performing his music-this level of refinement is clearly reflected in the score itself.

In simple terms: Enescu's works are difficult to perform-for everyone. Not only for conductors but also for orchestras. Deciphering a score by Enescu requires significantly more work than most composers. Yet, once you accomplish this, the music becomes crystal clear-as transparent as Mozart, Beethoven, or Brahms. But you must approach it with deep respect, dedication, and discernment to bring out all the subtle details he encoded in his writing. And then there's the sheer density of ideas, the polyrhythmic and polyphonic richness, like a lush forest or a blooming garden, with layers intertwining, overlapping, and building toward a unified whole. His language often follows an heterophonic style-countless streams merging into a single river, each essential to the whole. Omit one, and the structure suffers. Enescu's art is complex, intricate, subtle-and yet, once realized, profoundly direct. Whenever people have encountered a well-executed Enescu piece, they perceived and embraced and adopted, so to speak, this composer...they embraced him with both hands and served him. And they still serve him today.

Bit by bit, Enescu is gaining a foothold in global musical consciousness. His mature works-not only the rhapsodies-are appearing more in concert programs. And in chamber music, he is performed widely today. This is largely thanks to the "Enescu" Festival.

People are beginning to discover this 20th-century figure who resembles no one else. Initially, because they didn't understand him, they tried to pigeonhole him-labeling him as a French influence, or Wagnerian, or something else. In any case, no one understood where this man came from and he was always given a kind of filiation that he certainly had, as no one is born on barren sand, there is always a fertile land from which a new flower emerges, that is called George Enescu. This new flower is unique and does not resemble anyone else. Accepting this, and recognizing his singularity, has taken time-and continues to be a challenge for the international concert scene.

Abroad, I've been asked specifically to conduct Enescu-and not just the rhapsodies, though I've performed those at least 50 times. They want the difficult works: the symphonies, the suites.

Can we then say that, seventy years after his passing, George Enescu's legacy is finally being brought to life as it deserves?

Johann Sebastian Bach waited a hundred years to be rediscovered. Debussy, at least fifty, before entering the public's consciousness. Some composers are embraced immediately. Others need time to be understood. This is also the case with George Enescu. But I'm confident his path is open, and that he will one day take his rightful place in the pantheon.

For now, in Romania, Enescu is a composer who is deeply respected-but not yet truly loved. The challenge is for Enescu to move beyond mere reverence, to truly connect emotionally with his listeners. And I hope that happens here, in Romania, first. We promote him-but we must also love him. If we don't love Enescu, how can we expect others to?