THE MAIDENS OF CĂPÂLNA – THE SPIRAL OF FERTILITY

In the heart of the Târnava Plateau, where hills murmur ancient stories, a ritual dance still stirs the air: The Maidens’ Dance of Căpâlna. Handed down through generations—spoken softly, kept close in the warmth of family—this dance has remained an unseen thread, binding past to present, defying time and forgetting. Spiralling, pulsing, measured—their steps recall the old world’s rites of fertility. Clad in blossoming traditional dress, the maidens move like the earth in bloom: emblems of soil and seed, of seasons turning, of hope made flesh.

The spiral, woven into the very structure of the dance, speaks of regeneration, of time’s circular rhythm, and of the unbroken thread between life, death, and rebirth. Thus, the Purtata is more than a dance—it is a prayer in motion, a sacred invocation for the fertility of the fields and the abundance of generations to come.

Before 1989, the maidens of Căpâlna appeared on emblematic broadcasts such as Tezaur Folcloric and Cântarea României—both instruments of the communist regime for showcasing national folklore. Their dance, while drawn into the gears of cultural propaganda, managed to preserve its authenticity and rich symbolism. Their only journey abroad during that time was to Yugoslavia—a quiet breach in an era when folk culture was tightly circumscribed by national-communism. After 1989, the girls “exploded,” as later chroniclers would write. Freed from political oversight, they lit up stages across Europe, carrying with their spiralling steps the vibrant pulse of a living heritage.

Căpâlna de Jos lies in Alba County, under the care of the commune of Jidvei—a region of sunlit vineyards whose exceptional wines are rooted deep in the clay soils of the Târnava plateau. Here, in this quiet corner of the country where vine and woman bear fruit with the same mysterious generosity, the story of The Maidens of Căpâlna was born—a living myth woven from steps, rhythm, and inherited silence. The commune of Căpâlna counted 1,663 inhabitants at the 2011 census, distributed across its main villages: Săldăbagiu Mic (466), Suplacu de Tinca (411), Căpâlna (333), Ginta (309), and Rohani (144).

The wooden church in Săldăbagiu Mic, the largest village in Căpâlna.

The dance is not taught; it is absorbed. From the age of four, the girls learn the spiral movements through their mothers' eyes, in the courtyard of the house, or in the rehearsal room. The ensemble brings together about 30 girls, and membership in the group is governed by an initiatory ritual with pre-Christian roots. The young women must be born and raised in the village, unmarried, and must preserve the purity of a female circle dedicated to fertility, continuity, and cosmic order. When one of them marries, she leaves the group, not out of exclusion, but because she has completed her role in a symbolic stage of life. Her place is naturally taken by another girl.

Until 1948, the spiral dance of the girls from Căpâlna was kept as a mystery, passed down in whispers from mother to daughter. It took the keen eye of the teacher Stana Biriş, who came from Galați, for this treasure to emerge from silence and enter the public consciousness. Fascinated by the ritual beauty and purity of the movement, Stana Biriş began to promote the dance in Romania's major cities, bringing 'Purtata de la Căpâlna' to the stages of festivals and television studios, where it was met with astonishment. Thus, the girls from Căpâlna became the bearers of a national message about the vibration of a people, conveyed through ritual gestures. Until 1968, Stana Biriş was the soul of the ensemble. Her departure to Bucharest, with the beginning of her children's university journey, marked the end of an era, but not the end of the tradition. Her mission was taken up by other women from the village, keepers of an invaluable heritage.

The ensemble of the Girls of Căpâlna is organized into three symbolic circles, reflecting the stages and transitions of a woman's life within the community. The first group consists of kindergarten girls and primary school students, who learn the steps, the silence, and the wonder. The second circle includes teenagers and young women up to the age of 18, while the third is reserved for unmarried women, keepers of a ritual purity. These groups form an initiatory arc of femininity – from childhood to maturity, maintaining a connection with their origins. During festive moments or performances, this ritual has sometimes been adapted, but even then, the spirit of the dance remains intact: every step, every spin, every handhold continues to tell the same story – that of a sacred sisterhood, binding the earth with time and the body with the rhythm of the ancestors.

In the 1970s, the dance of Căpâlna reached its peak, with between 75 and 82 women in the ensemble. Their movements, as a single being with dozens of hearts, left the audience speechless. The dance, defined by ethnographer Petruța Pop as "virginal-feminine," unfolded in a ritualistic geography of femininity, with small, equal steps in a silent procession, full of meaning.

The 'Purtata Fetelor de la Căpâlna' is not just a dance, but an ancient form of prayer. It is a circle of regeneration, a song without a soloist, where each voice dissolves into a greater whole. The girls do not dance merely for the spectacle; each movement is an invocation, a silent utterance of a memory that is never forgotten. Leadership, too, is not an act of power, but of sacred responsibility. It must be present in its entirety – with the body, with the heart, with the memory of generations past. The dance is not a mere festive act, but a living ritual, a bond that remains forever open, a continuous covenant between generations.

Up on the hill and the old man in the meadow,

And I know him by his walk.

And I know him by his walk.

For even when the grapes are ripe,

I know him by his walk.

And I know him by his walk.

For even when the ink is flowing,

Like a quill on paper.

Like a quill on paper.

For even when the grapes are ripe,

I know him by his walk.

And I know him by his walk.

For even when the ink is flowing,

Like a quill on paper.

Like a quill on paper.

His walk is swaying,

With love mixed in.

With love mixed in.

Old man, grain of wheat,

I wished I didn’t know you,

I wished I didn’t know you.

For since I’ve known you,

I don’t need anyone else in this world,

I don’t need anyone else in this world.

Only you, my dear, only you,

No one else, no, no,

No one else, no, no.

'Purtata Fetelor de la Căpâlna', Romanian old dance.