National Geographic Music (National Geographic)

Once one of Europe's poorest countries, Romania has slowly emerged from the crushing dictatorship of Nicolai Ceau?escu to take its place in contemporary Europe. In spite of growing urbanization and modernization, the country remains essentially rural—something that's helped to preserve its unique musical heritage at the village level.

At its heart, Romania is two different countries united by a geographical boundary. In the northwest, bordering Hungary, lies Transylvania, a country with an epic history and, with its large Hungarian minority, far more Western European than Romania proper, which sits on the other side of the Carpathian mountains that divide the land, and keeps its face turned to the Balkans. For all their differences, musical traditions do cross the barrier. One is carol singing, heard, as one might expect, around Christmas time. But these carols aren't Christian; they date back further, as pagan celebrations of solstice, with texts several thousands of years old. Just as ancient – possibly even more so - are the pan pipes, one of the early musical sounds of the regions, although they're not heard as much these days (with the exception of a few commercial artists like Gheorghe Zamfir), replaced over the centuries by more modern, expressive instruments.

Perhaps the most famous Romanian musical tradition is the doina, a slow ballad and instrumental style that's heard all across Romania, with variations played by all ethnic groups. Typical doinas posess an aching sadness, and are usually played with a slow, free rhythm melody offset by uptempo accompaniment, which gives the music an exciting rhymic tension from which vituoso musicians and singers can launch musical and lyrical improvisations around set themes.

For centuries the population of Transylvania has been an ethnic mix of Hungarians, Romanians and Gypsies, and the music they make has crossed between groups, usually played by bands of violin, viola, and double bass, and most often heard at the village wedding parties, which often last for several days, and are the occasions for raucous celebration. Often, the musicians are Gypsies, or lautari, a professional caste who play for a living, usually with incredible virtuosity. These lautari are often organized into tarafs - local village bands who play weddings, funerals and the other big events that mark village life.

As with everywhere they've settled, the Roma people have influenced music, and in turn been influenced by it. Here, though, their styles lean more toward Central Europe, with distinct similarities to the klezmer music of the Ashkenazic Jews who lived there until the Holocaust, although there are distinct regional variations (and Transylvania does have its own Jewish music, although for obvious reasons it's now almost dead). But in Transylvania—never conquered by the Turkish Ottoman Empire—the old Hungarian folk styles have also remained alive, as recorded in the early 20th century by composers Bartók and Kodály. Although they've always been an ethnic minority in the country, the Hungarians have proudly held on to their customs and music, and that can still be found today.

As in Transylvania, most of the musicians in Eastern Romania are Gypsies, but the style of music is much different, with a greater Middle Eastern influence, quite probably a hangover from the Turkish domination of the country. Here the tarafs revolve around violin and cimbalom (hammered dulcimer), with bass and accordion as support, and frequently number 10 or more players—the most famous, perhaps, being Taraf de Haïdouks, who've achieved international fame. It's the instrumental tradition most people are familiar with, but there's also a very strong vocal tradition, with a large number of epic ballads. And like all rural societies, there's the music of the shepherd's flute to be heard. Although originally used for a purpose, it's developed over time into a fluid, versatile instrument with its own repertoire, often heard in bands.

Additionally, a now-fading tradition is that of the ursari, or bear-training caste, who once travelled from village to village, singing and dancing around trained bears in the squares for money. Vestiges of this unique culture remain in the work of Shukar Collective, which pairs old (and younger) ursari vocalists with electronica to connect past and present. Another important strand of Rom musical culture is the brass bands, like Fanfare Cioc?rlia, from a village near the Moldavian border. A hangover from the Turkish occupation with their attendant military bands, it's a form that's sprung up across the Balkans. While many of these powerhouse ensembles originally played their regional music, these days they pull from many areas of music – but still at a frightening pace, with glorious hairpin turns in meter.

In terms of pop music, Romania has a thriving domestic market with the usual mix of European techno, rock and pop, yet little has filtered out to the international market with the exception of one small blip: In 2004 O-Zone (who were actually originally from Moldova) scored a pan-European hit with the song "Dragostea Din Tei." There's also a strong dance scene, with clubs in all the cities. — Chris Nickson