Mihaela Doboș, the founding director of Radio România Muzical, is a respected voice in the world of musical programs at Radio România. At the same time, she is deeply knowledgeable about the "Madrigal" phenomenon and the artistic work of Marin Constantin. She interviewed the artist many times and followed his career with admiration and respect. In return, Marin Constantin always supported her. We asked her to talk about him:

You had a close relationship with Marin Constantin over the years. How and when did you meet him?

I knew about him long before I became the director of Radio România Muzical. My connection with his work and, of course, with the man who created it-maestro Marin Constantin-was both professional and personal. It started in my first year of university. It was in 1967-1968. That was the first time I saw him on stage. That was when I heard those unique sounds that moved me so much that I started crying. Maybe it's hard to believe, but at that moment, I struggled to understand where that magic came from. In front of me, there were just a few artists and a conductor who did not impress with his height, his gestures, or his movements. And yet, what I heard was divine. That was the moment that tied me forever to maetro Marin Constantin and his temple. Later, I think I started to understand the secret of what he created. You see, I avoid saying "choir" because I feel that would take away from the greatness of his work, which had success after success all over the world. Later (I was already a radio editor in 1972), in an interview, I asked him what success meant. And what do you think he answered? "Success is making others happy because of you." That poor child from a small village in Prahova-an orphan, struggling, waking up at dawn, sleeping late, never getting enough rest-climbed the steps of success with incredible strength. I wondered, how did this child manage to bring so much happiness to the world? Intelligence, talent, hard work, skill, dedication, and love for music-were these enough? I don't think so. Marin Constantin had something extra-the search for perfection. He never stopped looking for new, unexplored, unique paths until the end of his life.

Many people who knew him noticed this endless search, this deep spiritual side.

He used to say: "Absolute is absolute. The tiniest fraction of a second, the smallest weight, the slightest distance that separates you from absolute perfection is tragic. Almost everything else loses its value." He was always obsessed with perfection. He demanded strict discipline first, only to later release creative energy. I remember Roman Vlad once said about Marin Constantin, and I quote from memory: "It is a paradox that someone who is so strict can also be so free. And that is what makes a great artist." He also had the talent to unite individual voices into a single, unique ensemble. He was persuasive, sometimes more than expected, but above all, he had a strong energy that he passed on to both the choir members and the audience.

How would you describe his complex personality?

Inside him, there was a strange but well-balanced mix-the country boy, the teacher who understood human nature, the philosopher always reflecting on the needs of the soul, and the complete artist. Every concert for Marin Constantin required an enormous amount of energy. I still remember him sitting, exhausted but happy, in a chair in the central box of the "Mihail Jora" Hall at the Radio, after the great success of the "Marin Constantin - 75" concert on February 27, 2000. When I hugged him, I felt his jacket wet with sweat, his body tired, but his eyes were still bright and intense. He lived every moment to the fullest. But I knew not only the musician Marin Constantin. I also knew the man Marin Constantin in his home, on C.A. Rosetti Street. Later, in his apartment near Cișmigiu, where I was invited after almost every Madrigal tour to do interviews. I was welcomed-yes, "welcomed" because his wife, Bernanda, was there too-with a warm, friendly smile. In that calm, intimate setting, the man who was sometimes unreachable or even strict in his work became relaxed, communicative, and extremely pleasant. I was like a child to him because, no matter what state he was in when I met him, he always looked at me with fatherly eyes. And later, I found the ultimate proof of this-not from him, but from someone else.

Those who knew him well say he was always loyal to those he valued. Did you feel this as well?

Yes, and not just towards me personally. He supported me in one of the most difficult moments of my career in radio. Many times, Radio România Muzical was in danger of being shut down. In those moments, maestro Marin Constantin was one of the voices who strongly defended the need for such a radio station in post-communist Romania. What do I mean by this? That Marin Constantin, both as a musician and as a person, knew how to get involved, how to fight for causes that served society-a society that had been deprived for decades of access to the great values of classical music.

You mentioned that you also got a glimpse into his personal life. What was the atmosphere like in Marin Constantin's family?

I knew his children, Noemi and Ion, since my university days, at the home of their cousin, who was also my friend, Liliana Pispiris. Those were wonderful evenings, made even better by Ion's talent for imitations. Ion grew up to be a brilliant mind, a scholar, and a world-class conductor. Noemi, who sadly passed away, was a professor at Florida University, specialized in rhetoric, the author of eight books, and a sensitive poet. She was like a sister to me. Every time she visited Romania, we met. Until shortly before her passing, we had long phone conversations. She always expressed warmth, sensitivity, and deep love for her late father and her brother Ion. She was kind, generous, and deeply dedicated to promoting her father's legacy. She always filled the internet with news about Ion's successes around the world.

Noemi and Ion are the result of Marin Constantin and his wife, Bernanda, who was also a member of "Madrigal." Although their parents dedicated most of their time and energy to "Madrigal"-as Ion himself admitted-they still passed on to their children the ambition to succeed and to find the best path in life.

What are your thoughts on this Centenary?

From everything I have experienced, heard, read, and learned about Marin Constantin's Madrigal, one of his own confessions keeps coming to my mind: "My destiny was to work. Some people are guided by fate. Others are dragged by it. When I was born in the countryside, fate probably said: You, Marin Constantin, will never rest, you will never sit still, your happiness will be found in hard work, and time will always chase you! And now, time has brought him to 100 years. Through his legacy, he will always remind us that in Romania, Madrigal was born-a choir like a Stradivarius violin-and Marin Constantin, a virtuoso like Paganini.