On January 13, 1968, Johnny Cash started his concert at Folsom maximum security prison in California with “Folsom Prison Blues” in front of two thousand murderers, rapists and robbers. The energy emanating from Johnny Cash and his band, with Carl Perkins, the author of the famous “Blue suede shoes”, on guitar, as well as the inmates applauding lyrics like “I shot a man in Reno/Just to watch him die” in Reno/Just to see him die) is evident from the beginning of the disc, not being affected by the fact that the prisoners’ cheers were actually recorded after the concert, in the studio. The disc, released in May 1968, was received with maximum qualifications by music critics, it relaunched Johnny Cash’s career, becoming a gold disc in August 1968, having been sold until then in over 500,000 copies. There were songs about arrest, prison, cocaine, photos of my mother, scattered clothes and chains, gallows, songs in which each of the prisoners could be found.
However, it was not Johnny Cash’s first concert in a prison, it took place on January 1, 1959, at San Quentin, the oldest prison in California, also of maximum security. Among the prisoners was Merle Haggard, arrested in 1957, at the age of only 18, for an attempted robbery. Years later, a country music legend, Merle Haggard testified that that concert inspired him to get serious and focus on music. In his words: “He had the right attitude. He chewed gum, looked arrogant and gave the guards the middle finger – he did everything the prisoners wanted to do too. He was a scumbag from the South who was there because he loved us. By the time he left, everyone in that place had become a Johnny Cash fan.”
Soon after, Haggard joined the prison’s country music band and began to focus on music, putting aside the thoughts of escape that had plagued him until then. He was paroled in 1960 after serving two years of his sentence. Later, in 1972, he was granted an unconditional pardon by Ronald Reagan, then governor of California.
Negulescu Nicolas Cezar hasn’t heard of Merle Haggard or Johnny Cash, which is not surprising, considering that he is just over 20 years old. He was arrested in 2018 for attempted murder, for a while being tried in freedom. In the end, he received a sentence of 4 years and 10 months, spending until now almost two years in the Craiova Detention Center.
I spoke with him in the premises of the Arena Verde Stop in Bucharest, where the “Mircea Dinescu” Art Foundation organized a concert with the participation of seven inmates from the Craiova Detention Center, three professional musicians and Andrei Dinescu with his band PC HAREM. The concert is part of the RO-CULTURE program that takes place in Craiova and Bucharest, between May 2022 and April 2024, supported by EEA (European Economic Area) grants representing the contribution of Iceland, the Principality of Liechtenstein and the Kingdom of Norway to reducing economic and social disparities in The European Economic Area and to the strengthening of bilateral relations with the 15 beneficiary states in Eastern and Southern Europe and the Baltic States.
“I’ve been in detention since May 2022, but I spent another six months in 2018. I shouldn’t have been in prison, it wasn’t such a serious act that I had to pay this amount. It had to be different,” says the young man I talk to before the concert. “Halfway through my sentence, in April I will appear before the parole board and I could be released. There it depends on your behavior, on the activities you have… I was a good boy, I behave well, I comply with the rules, I mind my own business, I have a goal – to go home as soon as possible, I have a family that he’s waiting for me, I don’t want to lose my life in prison, I made a mistake but that doesn’t mean I have to repeat it. It’s a learning of the mind, a lesson for me through what I’m going through…”
I can’t control myself and I jokingly tell him that there are only four policemen out of seven detainees, so three could easily escape if they each ran in a different direction, but that it’s not worth it when there are only six months left until the eventual parole. He also laughs heartily and repeats that he wants nothing more than to return home as soon as possible and that he has no intention of making any more mistakes.
I ask him if he plans to make music after he is released. “Honestly… it would blow my mind. I want to see how things unfold… I like to tinker. I don’t really have a voice.” I find out that there are weekly classes since the “Shamanelism” project and that in the period leading up to the concert there were several rehearsals. “I like techno, club music more, but I also like manele, otherwise I wouldn’t be here. There’s also that show on Taraf, with Lucian Elgi, that I still watch”, he says in reply to my statement that I don’t listen to the manele but that I appreciate the rhythm.
The seven percussionists, seated on chairs in a circular arc, start synchronizing and I think of the dubasi from Brănești, with whom the Phoenix played in 1974, although the drums are of the Egyptian type, darbuka, the rhythm is oriental . Then Dumitru Boaca and Pulpan Nicolae entered on keyboards, Ionut Avram on vocals and occasionally Andrei Dinescu on violin. I think that the sound full of vigor is not far from that of the parties on the cruise ships leaving from Eminönü, but after a few rhythmic songs the soloist breaks the rhythm with a syrupy love song: “Your look is killing me/Nobody’s like you/But no other is like me/You are the happiness of life/You are like the morning dew…” in the plaintive style of Florin Salam.
Followed by other songs that have love as their subject, but much more full of rhythm, when suddenly a girl over 1.80m tall, slim, in black pants tight on the leg, black tights and a brown vest, stands out from the audience, who starts to dance in bare feet on the still green grass in front of the musicians. Ionut Avram competes in spontaneously composing lyrics, like “Let Romania know/Claudia’s talents”, and then continues in Romanian/Gypsy, Claudia rotates her shoulders, arms, hips, making her long hair fly everywhere , black, silky, which, when she arches her back, flows past her belt, and then, surprise, she climbs onto the chariot next to the band and dances for several minutes on the flowered carpet of the chariot, next to a decorated mirror globe with a snake also shining, in the light of a portable reflector.
It is the last piece in which the arrested young men also appear, who are then led to the minibus, accompanied by the four policemen and two more plainclothes policemen. A small break follows and the concert continues with PC HAREM, i.e. Andrei Dinescu, “Jerry” Boacă and Andrei Raicu.
I don’t know if my interlocutor or any of his fellow prisoners will ever become professional musicians, or if music will remain an important part of their lives, but the Norwegian attempts at music therapy are very positive, both in terms of the efforts made during the detention and of discernible effects after release. Organizations such as MIFF (Musikk i gegel og frihet – Music in prison and in freedom), founded in 1991 and active in over 40 Norwegian prisons, or Blues Factory, which operates in five prisons and has an arrangement with Notodden Blues Festival, one of the Europe’s biggest blues festivals, to have a separate stage, the Jailhouse Stage, where bands from prisons can perform, suggests that music can shape the social life of prisoners. Thus, the collaborative process of working together in a group can develop listening and communication skills as well as the development of non-violent methods of dealing with disputes.
And last but not least, maybe such projects will convince countries (like Italy or Greece) that harbor Romanian criminals under the pretext of non-compliance of Romanian prisons with European standards to send them where they belong.
* “manele” Manele is a popular Romanian genre of pop folk music, blending traditional Romani (lăutărească) styles with modern electronic beats and influences from Turkish, Greek, Arabic, Balkan, and Serbian music. It originated in the late 1970s–1980s within Romania’s Romani communities, evolving from “classical manele”—Turkish-derived songs by lăutari musicians—to “modern manele” with synthesized sounds and party rhythms. During communism, it was underground due to bans on multicultural music; post-1989, it exploded in popularity, often topping charts despite controversy.
Songs feature oriental melodies, fast tempos, and lyrics about love, wealth, enemies, alcohol, and life’s struggles, performed at weddings, clubs, and celebrations. The term “manele” (plural of “manea”) is commonly used, with “manelist” as a sometimes pejorative label for fans or performers.