Centre for Romanian Studies

Looking back at the dinner in Brancusi’s old atelier, the memories are like a replay of a magic dream. In the summer evening the narrow lane of Impasse Ronsin, now completely vanished, was deserted. As I rang the bell, I remember I was not a little surprised, that before I was let in, Istrati looked up and down the lane, I presume to check if I may have been shadowed by some unwanted troll… For the uninformed reader one should point out that Paris of the ‘60s to late 1980s was replete with cloak and dagger stories, which would have made Agatha Christies’ stories a child’s play: indeed, one could not be too careful.

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