Blogpost by Anna Skenderoglou How Music and Film Can Interact or Memories of the Right Music in the Right Place

Memories can be a powerful driving force. They hold careers together, shape legends and give meaning to moments when everything seems to fall apart. With the right memory, the question ‘What should I do?’ disappears and becomes a determined statement: ‘What else can I do?’ This is exactly what is captured in the story of the film “Caliu – Nothing Else. What Else Can I Do?” by Simona Constantin. 

With a keen interest in music as intangible heritage, Simona Constantin's documentary illustrates how Romanian violin virtuoso Gheorghe ‘Caliu’ Anghel wants to remain present in the music scene despite challenges with his band. What has sustained him over the years is often connected to memories. After nine years of work, the film premiered this year in Kraków in the international music documentary competition. 

Who is Simona Constantin and What Led Her to Caliu? 

The Romanian director has been exploring traditional music in Romania for over ten years. She is particularly interested how classical and folk traditions attempt to survive and adapt in a modern world. In a radio interview, she recalled how, during her university years, there was a revival of interest in ‘old’ music, with Balkanik Festival and Romeo Fantastik. 

When she came across the so-called Lăutari – traditional Romani musicians, often referred to as lute players – she immediately admired this special artistry. As a former amateur pianist who had struggled with improvisation, she was fascinated by the musicians who learn everything by ear, from one generation to the next. Their sound is built on intuition, lived experience and memory. But that very foundation makes the tradition vulnerable. 

What Makes Him Stand Out? 

For Gheorghe ‘Caliu’ Anghel, music was not a choice, but inheritance. Legacy. Maybe even his destiny. He was born in Clejani, Romania, in 1960, which meant that a musical career was virtually predestined for him, as the small community in the historic region of Wallachia is world-famous for its music – in the right circles. As a member of a Roma family of musicians, he learned to play music as a child and was already playing with the Taraf de Haïdoucks, the Haiduck orchestra, at the age of eight. As the years passed, he became not only one of its most talented performers but one of its most determined protectors, determined to keep the music and its stories alive.

A brief history of the Haïdoucks: The name of the group goes back to the modern meaning of the term Haiducks, who see themselves as ‘freedom fighters’. And just as freedom is multifaceted, so is the band's musical style. Folklore from Romania blends with the musical traditions of neighbouring countries, including Bulgaria, Greece and Turkey. This diverse mix became world famous thanks to Belgian music lovers Stéphane Karo and Michel Weber, who more or less declared themselves the band's managers and organised international gigs in Barcelona, Berlin and New York. 

Music, Direction and Memory 

Simona Constantin's documentary about the band and its leader Gheorghe ‘Caliu’ Anghel is, at its core, a cinematic act of remembering. Much like the music of the Lăutari, her documentary thrives on oral narratives and is composed of many small moments of memory. First and foremost is Caliu's recollection of his former manager Stéphane Karo. He witnessed first-hand how someone outside his own community could not only be moved by his music but would go to great lengths to give his music a world stage. 

Karo's passing in 2016 should not mean the silent disappearance of this commitment. The memory of Karo’s devotion ultimately inspired Caliu to rebuild the band under his own leadership and follow in his manager's footsteps. Under the name Taraf de Caliu the band reunited and recorded a new album, which has not yet been released. The film follows this journey over nearly a decade, capturing the evolving sound, the enduring spirit and the people behind the music. And during this period, the film documents another process of remembrance, one that extends far beyond the villages to Hollywood. 

In the 2001 short film ‘Iagalo’ by Paul Tanicui, the story of that unforgettable evening is retold in Caliu's own words. Iagalo symbolically means ‘to burn’: to be passionately devoted to what you love, to do it with talent and dignity. 

In an interview with German broadcasting corporation MDR, she shares her hope that the film will reach beyond festivals and theatres and ideally bring it to smaller communities where lute players still perform today. Her dream is to bring the film on the road, in a caravan-style tour, to keep this living tradition alive and perhaps spark interest among a younger generation.^[3]

So what else can we do but watch it as soon as possible? Nothing, except watch the trailer.