Conclusion

THE ARCHITECTURE of Transylvanian towns, tucked into the Carpathian foothills surrounding Sibiu, is rooted in the gently rolling landscape.

Low hills, verdant with farmland pastures and deep green patches of forests climbing up the slopes, backdrop agricultural villages of clustered tile-roofed houses and barns, and form a landscape so tranquil.

Perfectly framing the scene are the distant snow-capped Carpathian Alps.

If there are few people in Sibiu, there are even less here. The haunting Transylvanian countryside is a place for solitude.

After Romania opened its borders, a majority of residents abandoned their farms and villages and relocated to industrialized Europe for employment. Because of massive migration, most village houses are empty, adding poignancy to the sense of Transylvanian solitude.

So still is the isolated valley where the small agricultural hamlet of Occolis, which dates back to 1408, that it is located at the end of a narrow dirt road an hour?s drive from the highway.

In the small, loosely defined village, along a narrow creek at the bottom of the mountain slope, are scattered weathered wooden houses and barns covered with either thick thatch or wooden shingles that have stood for generations, and are still in use by the aged farmers, woodcutters and iron workers who still populate the hamlet. No younger generation, especially children, are around.

While picturesque Occolis has tradition and beauty in abundance, does it have a future?

Quaint town

Roscia Montana is another town whose future hangs in a delicate balance. A gold-mining center with tunnels dating back to the Roman era, it is a quaint town with richly detailed 18th- and 19th-century homes and buildings of strong masonry, reflecting the wealth mining has brought to the town. But the closing of the private mining industry during the Communist regime plunged the local economy into decay.

Paradoxically, the town sits on gold, which is its ultimate undoing. To be able to mine the rich vein of gold beneath the town, a multinational company has been buying up all the houses and relocating local residents to resettlement areas, in preparation for demolishing the structures to allow the start of open mining operations.

Growing numbers of houses in this small community now have plaques attached to their façades declaring ownership by the mining company. The writing is clearly on the wall, despite some resistance by a few isolated residents.

Isolation is a recurring theme in the Transylvanian landscape, well illustrated by a series of fortified medieval fortresses that either stand in melancholic isolation on mountaintops, or have, over time, evolved into the nucleus of towns and villages which have grown around them.

Inscribed on the World Heritage List, the 13th-century fortress of Câlnic is one of a string of hauntingly beautiful medieval fortresses that once was Transylvania?s main defense line.

Câlnic Fortress stands on a low hill at the center of the village with the same name. Once surrounded by a moat, it has massive wooden doors that protect the entrance into the small fort containing a keep (a residential tower) and a small chapel with some open space around them.

For added protection, wooden ramparts were constructed along the tops of the walls. Originally the heavy-walled brick-and-stone fort was built as a residence for a noble family, who sold it to the villagers in 1411 when Câlnic became a peasant fortress maintained by the local residents. It was where they took shelter during sieges.

Seat of power

The most extensive of all was the castle-fortress of Alba Iulia, seat of power and faith in 1009 when Saint King Stephen of Hungary founded the Bishopric of Alba Iulia, whose realm of influence included the entire southern Transylvania.

Alba Iulia later became the capital of the region when Transylvanian princes took up residence there and transformed it into the most important garrison in Transylvania. Today it is considered the most spectacular example of military architecture preserved up to this time.

The modern city of Alba Iulia has grown around the enormous fortress that contains a Roman Catholic cathedral built in stages from the 11th to the 18th century, administrative buildings and the 18th-century Batthyaneum Library, a Baroque-style building that holds an extensive collection of irreplaceable books among its 55,000 volumes.

The Apor Palace is the jewel of the fortress. The building?s nucleus is a Gothic construction attached to the medieval walls, transformed and enlarged in the early 18th century in the Renaissance style. When it became the residency of the garrison?s commanding general, the palace was remodeled once again, making it the first Baroque palace in Transylvania.

Once again construction activity is happening at the palace, this time to reuse it and convert it into a luxury hotel.

The well-preserved heritage of Transylvania is at a crossroads. Faced with massive migration which has left villages practically deserted, it asks the question: Is conservation the best means to bring life and livelihood back to the villages?

Although tourism is on the rise, what price will its economic effects exact on the local lifestyle?

The real question seems to be how heritage can be made relevant to the 21st-century needs of Transylvania.

E-mail the author at pride.place@gmail.com