Studium "(…) qui ne veut pas dire, du moins tout de suite, mais l'application à une chose, le goût pour quelqu'un, une sorte d'investissement general, empresseé, certes, mais sans acuité particulière. C'est pas studium que je m'intéresse à beaucoup de photographies, soit que je les reçoive comme de témoignages politiques, soit que je les goûte comme de bons tableaux historiques: car c'est culturellement (cette connotation est présente dans le studium) que je participe aux figures, aux mines, aux décors, aux actions."The trip – the best means of self-development – is already a cliché. The only difference is that the visited places are already seen through information: readings, albums with images, documentaries and movies, the internet.I was to check this fact on my first trip to "the sweet burg of Iasi," this "Florence of Moldavia." "En bon sujet culturel" I had industriously built an image of the town and its surroundings, having as a foundation my readings from Creanga, Eminescu, Alecsandri, Sadoveanu, Ionel Teodoreanu, Garabet Ibraileanu. I was going on a camp, somewhere near Iasi, at Ciric. It was 1983. I was anxiously and ecstatically waiting for the meeting with the big city, a kind of à nous deux maintenant but more gentle. The strict schedule didn't scare me, I knew that we would make many trips and I resisted the imposed enlivening, the guard duty at the kitchen, the not very tasty food, the outdoors washing place, the improvised discos. First we went to town in an organized group, thus we didn't see many things, but I was grateful for it, such as it was: the Palace of Culture on a rainy day of June, the ThreeHierarchsChurch, impressive in its massiveness and its stone minute carvings, where I simultaneously remembered Sadoveanu's writings and I felt sacred anxiety. Then we went to a play at the National Theatre, the stairs of which I climbed with a great thrill, remembering the famous quote from Alecsandri, that I had successfully been using in all my papers in Romanian Literature: "I don't know if I created the Romanian theatre, but I sure do know that I gave it a great support." I was suddenly pulled out of my daydreaming by the authoritative voice of a teacher who was calling me into the theatre hall. Boxes, chandeliers, the heavy curtain, the hilarious speeches from Chirita interpreted by Miluta Gheorghiu or Draga Olteanu Matei, Barbu Lautaru's song… The trips to Ruginoasa, Mircesti where the bard's shadow reigned among the manuscripts, photos and furniture, strengthened my belief. At Neamtu Fortress I admired "the beautifully running crystal-clear Ozana" and I remembered Stephen the Great's mother's reprimand of her son. At Humulesti I became certain of my choice, I had no more doubts. I didn't hear the guide's explanations anymore, in my head I heard Constantin Ciubotarasu's gentle voice, recounting his memories; I could see images from Bathing, In the Sweet Cherry Tree, Irinuca's Goats and I was looking in the three rooms for the corner where the famous tassels that the kittens used to play with, had to be.On our return, I shed a few tears; I bought some cheap souvenirs, and the joy of having received from reality that image already familiar. Punctum "Ce second element qui vient deranger le studium, je l'appellerai donc punctum; car punctum c'est aussi: piqure, petit trou, petite tache, petite coupure – et aussi coup de des. Le punctum d'une photo, c'est ce hazard qui, en elle, me point (mais aussi me meurtit, me poigne)."Iasi, dix ans après. The beginning of the summer, organized group, somewhat more relaxed, however, as to compensate the 10-bedded room where we were crowded. The first escapade: ruined buildings, poverty, music, Junimea bookstore, many titles for all tastes and pockets. I chose only The Prison Colony and The Close-Lipped Lovers. I read them all in one breath and I stay breathless In Front of the Law and of the story about the two painters, one Greek, the other Chinese. Copou hill, against the enthusiasm of my colleagues, I react with polite silence. A quite clean park, couples of lovers, retired men, children, a couple of dogs in leash. So what? On all the fences, on all pillars, advertisements for "Bodyguards" and a hit howling from all the loudspeakers. I read my essay, pretty poor; I like a feminist interpretation of a girl from Galati. Again the Three Hierarchs, coolness, the ambiguous light of sacerdotal attires, the meaningful silence of the sacred images. I light candles, and I help, out of pity, a beggar who wishes me to return the next year. Who knows… Pusi? Yes, it's really her, married, lives with her parents-in-law. Pusi, the freckled blonde, the giddy girl we almost lost at Neamtu Fortress, who hassled the driver jumping in the bus, Pusi, the Department captain in school, now a pretty young lady with a slight Moldavian accent. Why Iasi? I ask. Do you remember the camp at Ciric? Ever since then, I don't know, I felt that I wanted to live here… Yeah. A few hours before the departure. Pizza and cola. Cigarettes. The dark gray stripes on the make-up bag of a colleague, and the yellowish flagstone plates of the platform.Barthes mentioned the coexistence of the studium and of the punctum; a poet would render the same thing in a verse: "You leave and you stay, staying is leaving."
by Simona Brânzaru
