Interview: Madalina 'Mad' Pirvan

I came to Barcelona in 2010. I was in my last year of university, studying theatre, and feeling a bit down, thinking that I hadn’t learnt what I needed to learn to be prepared for my life as an artist. I knew I wanted to go somewhere warm—I had only seen the beach three times before I was 18—and by sheer coincidence, my mum phoned to say she had a friend going to Spain. She suggested I might want to go with him and I left 10 days later.

I lived in Girona for six months before moving here. I didn’t know a soul when I arrived but in four days, I found a theatre group on the Internet called PVC. They seemed very extreme and provocative and, amazingly, they let me work with them. At first, I was lost; I didn’t have a clue about their activities and my Castilian accent was a cross between French, American and Romanian, but it really opened doors for me.

After a year with them, I wrote to Radio Star Terrassa who were looking for collaborators. One of my many, many dreams from the age of 12 was to have my own radio show broadcast at four in the morning, where I could sit in the darkness and it wouldn’t matter what I said or what music I played. Now I do just that, but on Sunday afternoons at 2pm…

My show is called Generalmente diferente (Generally different). I am usually sarcastic about the popular songs of the day—especially Las 40 Principales—and lament the lack of diversity. I like to introduce bands that people might never have heard of, although I’m not one of those weirdos who hates bands once they’ve become successful. I love Bowie, Joan Jett and Arcade Fire, for example.

On Sunday mornings, I wake up early, even if I go out partying the night before, and spend a couple of hours deciding what I’m going to play. I write my spiel on the train; as long as I know the first bit of what I am going to talk about, the rest will follow.

I love talking and hearing myself talking without being interrupted! I am always laughing at myself too, which is a bit weird considering I’m completely alone in the studio. It’s like my playground.

A lot of people inspire me in different ways, from their creativity to their serenity, intelligence, their ability to be unselfish or their courage to be out of the ordinary. Most of all, I admire people that manage to be happy. It seems such a difficult thing. I don’t know yet how to do it, but some seem to have reached happiness in some way and I think “Lucky bastards”.

I don’t really have many possessions. I’ve left many things behind in the houses I’ve lived in and I don’t miss them, but I couldn’t live without my MP3 player, a notebook and a pen.

This is the first time in my life I feel my room belongs to me. I have my dark red walls, photos of my friends and shows, posters of clowns and dolls, my lamps, my green carpet and psychedelic scenery.

I feel most at home in Sidecar [the club in Plaça Reial]. It reminds me of my favourite club in Bucharest, the Control Club. It’s a place where there’s always somebody I know, there’s always Martini and there’s always music I like.

Coming to Spain has changed me a lot. It’s made me grow up and stop being a selfish brat. This contagious passion for theatre and my need for journeying were decisive forces in where I am now. I am a traveller and I couldn’t imagine my life another way.

I do love the beach. It’s the best soundtrack for reading a book or watching the hot guys surf. I’m pretty scared of the mountains; I saw a horror movie when I was little where a tree ate some teenagers and mountains are always the perfect setting for a serial killer, so no holiday in the mountains for me, thanks.