Ecaterina Chirică is among those carefully chosen members in 1963 by Marin Constantin to form the most promising Romanian choral group of that time. She was extremely young, still in high school, a member of the Radio Children's Choir -a true breeding ground for talent,towards whom Marin Constantin's flawless perception immediately gravitated.Currently settled in Los Angeles, Ecaterina Chirică proved to be an open, warm, and emotional conversationalist when recalling her maestro.

How do you feel now, marking this important anniversary?

With the occasion of the 100th anniversary of the maestro's birth, I would like to talk about the human side of this remarkable man. Having been a member of the 'Madrigal' ensemble, of the family of madrigalists from the very first day of its foundation, there have been many occasions when I have been truly impressed by the Maestro's approachable manner and, at the same time, with respect and appreciation towards us, the choristers, the instruments with which he realized the incomparable choral art of the 'Madrigal'.First and foremost, I would like to mention the magnanimity of Maestro Marin Constantin in inviting all of us madrigalists, with our wives and husbands, like a true family, to his birthday celebration, held at the University House, where we saw the love, respect and gratitude of the maestro towards his mother - an old lady, a granny, for all of us, who was seated in the place of honor, at the head of the table. And when she wanted to say something, the first to be silent and listen attentively was her son, the renowned master Marin Constantin.

I would also like to share a little personal experience. It was a few years after it was set up, all of us being volunteers, as you know, unpaid, and of course with financial difficulties, especially the men, responsible, heads of families. And when the maestro had an one-on-one conversation with me, being in a moment of dissatisfaction with the attitude of some who seemed to have lost interest, mainly in art, the kindness maestro Marin showed me and at the same time the gratitude of having a conversation with me overwhelmed me...Certainly, I was not the only one with whom the master had that kind of conversations, like a good and sincere friend to another, discussing and analyzing different principles and aspects related to the existence of our band. I think it was an act of, genuine surprise for me back then, a simple student at the very beginning of my journey in life and art... maestro Marin's trust had a great, great importance for me, for the validation of my character and an extraordinary stimulus to prepare myself and to want, with great diligence and to the best of my ability, to prepare myself both as a chorister and as a human being, so that I could offer 'Madrigal' all the best and most beautiful things I could have achieved in life.

Such treasured personal memories, indeed, which bring us closer to Marin Constantin from an extremely human perspective. But what was he like as a conductor?

Maestro Marin was always an admirable role model, truly. He was also very meticulous, patient. Every sound, every syllable... he would make each of us play that note or that sound and he would correct each one of us... more rounded, brighter, slower, calmer... anyway, all those observations, so we'd all have the same tone. And when there was someone who sounded closer to what he had in his soul and in his mind, he would say: "This is the sound." We all had to make the same sound. That's why that unmistakable sonority of sounds that seemed unreal. Did he repeat himself a lot? Yes, he did. He was very passionate. Of course, when you see that something is not working and you want to make it happen, naturally he would get upset and he was very dissatisfied to the point of saying: "That's it, I'm done!This is not the 'Madrigal', this is not a choir!". I don't think there was any severity in that, I think it was the dream that he really wanted to fulfill and to make us realize what was so extraordinary in his mind, in his soul. These verifications worried us, of course, and we were afraid... whether we succeeded or failed, whether we would be at the level that the master wanted of us to be!

Were you in the 'Madrigal' from the very beginning?

I had the great good fortune to be present at the first founding meeting of the 'Madrigal', where the maestro set out the dream he wanted to fulfill. And I saw something then that amazed me. I was young, I hadn't even finished high school yet, but I was part of the Radio Children's Choir (the nursery from which he had selected many madrigalists).There was, of course, the conductor of the Children's Choir, Elena Vicică. From this, I understood the importance granted by the maestro to our development as artists - vocally too, but at the same time, I saw the passion, seriousness and meticulousness with which he planned the fulfillment of his dream. Because, indeed, it was not only a dream, as it eventually came to reality. But, as he said, a realization is not an end, from there you keep going. And that's how it was all the time. For some it may have been exhausting and excruciating, but those who dearly wanted to succeed, understood that it was not severity or dictatorship, it was simply the passion of a visionary, of an artist who wanted to bring to life what he had in his heart and mind.

Many of the members of the 'Madrigal' Choir from that time speak about his exacting nature, about the meticulousness with which he sought that perfect sound. Do you share this perspective?

For as long as he was a conductor, the maestro was always very focused on sonority and the quality of the sound, of the interpretation, and he achieved it. He listened to us, checked up on each of us individually, even on a single syllable. So, we each had to play the same syllable at the quality he wanted, correcting us individually. This required a great deal of patience and passion. In this way, he achieved that sound, which was the purity and essence of sound, not the individual timbre that you might hear in great singers.You can distinguish each person by their timbre. No! In 'Madrigal,' we blended together to bring out the purity of the sound and that extraordinary simplicity, like the sound of a flute, not like a vibration. I could compare the maestro to an extraordinarily talented jeweler, an artist who takes each individual stone, polishes it, refines it, and prepares it to eventually create an extraordinary work of art. He did this with great, great meticulousness, patience, and passion, and, of course, sometimes we would drive him crazy when we didn't produce what he wanted. And then, he would have each one of us, individually, sing a single syllable or a word, correcting us one by one. And when one of us managed to get close to what the maestro envisioned, he would make all of us imitate that sound.