ENRICO MARTINO

The Merry Cemetery (Cimitirul Vesel) of Săpânţa, in the heart of the Maramureş, is famous for its colorful wooden funeral crosses with naïve paintings describing in an original and poetic manner, the life of the local people buried there with scenes from their lives and work. A sort of Spoon River hidden on the most northern area of the Romania near Ucraina’s border where the local artist Stan Ioan Pătraş started in 1935 carving and painting wood blue crosses, including a scene from their lives, or their death, and a little humorous poem, in some ways a reminiscent of the Boot Hill. The Merry Cemetery, with more of 800 oak wood crosses, is now an open-air museum but still so different from any other European cemetery. This lonely Spoon River is populated by scenes of daily life, works, happiness and sadness, shepherds with their sheep, a barber cutting hair, alcoholics drinking from their bottles, a woman working at her loom, distilleries, doctors, priest, war, tractors and railways accidents. Many stories are about ordinary people who lived a less than ideal life so this cemetery is not as cheerful as it may seem at first glance and the name of Merry Cemetery was a brilliant tourist marketing idea of Ceausescu regime that did not like criticism even veiled. Probably the subtle revenge of Pătraş was the cross of a local communist party leader, "but death is not a collective act." Many scholars have made connections with the local Dacian culture’s belief that death was a moment filled with joy and anticipation for a better life. After the death of Stan Ioan Patras in 1977 the wooden crosses are now made by Dimitru Pop Tincu, working also for successful people who migrated in other countries asking a colorful cross in other countries often far away as USA or UK. The Stan Patras inscription on his tombstone cross says:
Since I was a little boy
I was known as Stan Ioan Pătraş
Listen to me, fellows
There are no lies in what I am going to say
All along my life
I meant no harm to anyone
But did good as much as I could
To anyone who asked
Oh, my poor World
Because It was hard living in it