Chronic Chronicles of a Cronie

U nghallmek tbus...

2009-06-20T01:48:00.007+02:00

English translation below

Nghabbik fuq spallti

U narmik minn tarf l-irdum;

U nghallmek tbus.

Norbtok minn ghonqok

Indendlek ma dnubieti;

U nghallmek tbus.

Nisqik minn kliemek

Mis-semm ta’ bezghatek;

U nghallmek tbus.

Nghabbilek salib

U nsammrek b’ghajnejja;

U nghallmek tbus.

Norbtok fuq blata

U nsawwtek bil-htija

Ta’ qalb meqruda

W ghajnejn imdemmija.

U nghallmek dak kollu li naf,

Nghallmek tbus.

01/06/09

And I'll teach you how to kiss

I'll carry you on my shoulders

And throw you off a cliff;

And teach you how to kiss.

I'll tie a rope around your neck
And hang you from my sins;

And teach you how to kiss.

I'll feed you your own words

From your poisoned fears;

And teach you how to kiss.

I'll give you a cross to carry

And nail you to it with my eyes;

And teach you how to kiss.

I'll tie you to a rock

And beat you with the lies

That destroyed my heart

And reddened my eyes.

And I will teach you all I know

I'll teach you how to kiss.

01/06/09

2009-04-15T12:59:00.004+02:00

English translation below...

Hemm ugiegh

Li ma jitfejjaqx

Tista tkeffnu

Fit-tama tal-fejqan

Izda ma jitfejjaqx.

Hemm mistrieh

Li ma jinstabx

Tista torqod

Fit-tama tal-qawmien

Izda ma tistriehx.

U hemm dlam

Li ma jintemmx

Tista ddawlu

Bit-tama tal-ghabex

Izda ma jintemmx.

Hope

There's a pain

That can't be cured

You can bandage it

In the hope of healing

But it can't be cured.

There's a rest

That can't be found.

You can sleep

In the hope of rising

But you can't rest.

And there's a darkess

That never ends

You can light it

With the hope of dawn

But it never ends.

Fuq il-Fosos

2009-02-08T23:44:00.003+01:00

English translation below...

Taht dan il-gebel,

Fejn darba ltqajna

Ghad-daqq ta kant stunat

U birra kiesha,

Hemm biss vojt.

U issa

Li zarmajna l-palk imzegleg

U l-ghana mzarrat gheb,

Qed inhoss go fija

Il-vojt ta’ taht il-fosos

Jidwi stunat.

29/01/09

On the Granaries

Beneath these flagstones,

Where once we met

To the sound of strained singing

And a cold beer,

There is but emptiness.

And now

That the stage is dismantled

And the singing has stopped

I am feeling the emptiness

That lies beneath the granaries

Echoing within me.

29/01/09

Tradiment II (Betrayal II)

2009-01-28T22:53:00.002+01:00

English translation below...

Bilkemm missejtu.

Ghajnejh ma rajthomx
Jew rajthom u nsejt;
U gismu mghotti
Ma jmurx jidhol xi hadd
U ninqabdu.

Bilkemm missejtek.

Ghadni nhoss il harstek
Tahraqli l-habbiet t’ghajnejja.
U qalbek maghluqa
Ma jmurx jidhol xi hsieb
U ninqabdu.

U l-mohh li qatt ma nesa
U l-qalb li ma baghditek qatt
Joftquni bit-tghajjir:
Traditur! Traditur!

Æ

I barely touched him.

I could not see his eyes
Or maybe I did, and forgot;
His body was covered
In case someone walks in
And we get caught.

I barely touched you.

I can still feel your eyes
Burning into mine;
And your heart closed
In case you think again
And we get caught.

And this mind that hasn't forgotten
And this heart that hated you
Rip me apart, crying:
Traitor! Traitor!

Æ

Ghanja II (Song II)

2008-12-18T08:43:00.003+01:00

English translation below

Ghal dawk il-jiem minghajr sebh
Fejn ix-xemx ma twarradx
Nghannilek ghanja.

Ghal dawk il-jiem minghajr tbissim
Bis-sema comb, harrstu mkemmxa
Nghannilek ghanja.

Ghal dawk il-jiem bhal eremita
Imwarrab minn kulhadd
Nghannilek ghanja.

Ghal dawk il-jiem mcajjpra
Bid-dmugh fuq irdum ghajnejk
Nghannilek ghanja.

Ghal dawk il-jiem li dejjem lejl
Nghannilek ghanja.

18/12/08

Æ

For all those days without a dawn
When the sun doesn't bloom
I will sing you a song

For all those days without a smile
Mith leaden skies and wrinkled brow
I will sing you a song.

For all those days you feel alone
Rejected by all
I will sing you a song

For all those days veiled in mist
WIth tears hanging to your eyes
I will sing you a song

For all those days forever night
I will sing you a song

18/12/08

Æ

Lehen

2008-12-11T00:28:00.001+01:00

English translation below

Kultant nieqaf
U niftah qalbi
Max-xafra ta’ harstek
U nisma’ lehen jghid:

‘B’min qed titnejjek?’

Æ

10/12/08

Voice

Sometimes I stop
And tear my heart open
On your razor-edge face
And I hear a voice crying:

'Who the fuck are you kidding?'

Haiku VIII

2008-11-19T00:24:00.002+01:00

English translation below

Kemm hu ikrah
Li tkun aghmi u tibqa tara,
Li tkun trux u tibqa tisma’,
Li tkun titkellem, u tibqa mutu.

Æ

14/11/08

How dreadful it is
To be blind, and yet see
To be deaf, and yet hear
To speak, and yet remain mute.

Xemgha

2008-10-21T00:31:00.002+02:00

Il-fjamma li kebbist
Meta qalbi tjassret f’ghajnejk
Bhax-xemgha quddiem
Il-Kurcifiss
Teqred bir-reqqa
Dak li jghajjixha
U ghad-dell tal-pjagi
Tizfen wehdiha
Fid-dlam.

Æ

20/10/08

Candle

The flame that was kindled
When your eyes enslaved my heart
Like a candle in front
Of a crucifix
Carefully eats away
That which keeps it alive
And in the shadows of those wounds
It dances, solitary,
In the dark.

Æ

20/10/08

Ghabex

2008-10-10T03:31:00.002+02:00

(English translation below)

Harist ‘il fuq

U rajt sema dmija

Jcarcar mill-pjagi ta’ l-univers;

Mifrux bla tarf

Fuq bahar dmugh

Fetha bla qies titkarrab mal-blat

Li b’harstu l fuq

Kien qed jistharreg x’inhu l-akbar

Hux it-telfa jew l-ugigh.

Harist ‘il fuq

U rajt lilek.

07/10/2008

Sunset

I looked up
And saw a blood red sky

Pouring from the wounds of the universe

Spread out eternally

Over a sea of tears

A vast expanse lamenting against the rocks

With their eyes looking up

Wondering what was bigger
Whether the loss or the pain

I looked up
And saw you.

07/10/2008

Ragun

2008-08-25T09:22:00.002+02:00

Kellek ragun Gr**c
Int u jien
Mhux bhal dak u dik.
Int u jien ma nistghux
Inzommu jdejn xulxin
Ma nistghux nitghannqu
Int u jien.

Ghalina m’hemmx
Avviz ckejken fuq gazzetta
Meta jghaddu fuqna s-snin.
Ghad ma nstabx sagrament
Ghall-midinbin.

Jien u int nibku fid-dlam
Ghax post ghalina
M’hemm mkien.

Kellek ragun Gr**c.
Hemm biss int.
Hemm biss jien.

You were right

You were right Gr**c
You and me
Aren't like him and her
You and me
Cannot hold hands.
We cannot embrace
You and me.

There's no ad on the paper
To celebrate the years
We spend together.
There's no sacrament as yet
For sinners like us.

Me and you, we cry in the dark
Away from the crowds
Where no-one can see.

You were right Gr**c
There's only you.
There's only me

Kliem

2008-08-20T10:17:00.003+02:00

English translation below

Kliem

X’taghmel meta fid-dinja
Jifdal nom wiehed,
U dak in-nom
Huwa int?

X’taghmel meta kull verb
Isir verb wiehed,
U dak il-verb
Huwa int?

U x’jifdal meta kull kelma
Tfisser biss haga wahda,
U dik it-tifsira
Hija int?

Words

What do you do when
There's only one noun
Left in the world
And that noun
Is you?

What do you do when
When every verb
Becomes one verb
And that verb
Is you?

What is left in the world
When all the words
Mean one thing
And that meaning
Is you?

Il-Mahzen

2008-07-31T23:42:00.002+02:00

(English translation below)

Il-Mahzen

Issa li hlejna kull sekonda

U l-mahzen vojt

Nistghu naghtu dahrna lil xulxin

U nfittxu hwejjeg ohra

Biex nghaddu z-zmien.

Ma nafx int, ghaziz,

Izda jien ser ninxtehet quddiem arlogg

U nishtu talli qarraq bija

Ghax iz-Zmien ma jitkejjilx

Bis-sighat, minuti u sekondi

Izda bil-mumenti battala bla tama

Sakemm nerga ninghaqad mieghek.

The Warehouse

Now that every second has been wasted
And the warehouse is empty
We can turn our backs on our past
And look for other things
To kill time.

I don't know about you, my dear,
But I will find a clock
And curse him for his deception
For Time is not measured
In hours, minutes and seconds
But in empty moments without hope
Until I see you once again.

Dan Kollu ma Jezstix (All this does not exist)

2008-05-18T18:26:00.003+02:00

[Scroll down for Poem]

Note

Thanks for the comments on my last blog, and it's true, my entries have become very sporadic. I have limited myself mostly to poetry over these last few months, because for me it is the easiest and most personal forms of literary expression. So at the risk of being an old bore, I shall be publishing mostly poems on my blog. I also write mostly in Maltese (but do offer translations), because that is MY language, and MY identity. The translations can only approximate what I mean, just as the poem itself can only approximate what I feel.

My poetry is egocentric; I admit that readily. It is about me;what I think and what I feel. I do not write to find sympathy or pity, nor to preach or judge. I write to share my experiences with others, and learn from others just as I hope others learn from me. If we can only learn to sit down and listen and understand, maybe our lives will be slightly better than they are today.

Dan kollu ma jezistix

(English translation below)

Dan kollu ma jezistix

Dal-kliem

Dil-karta

Bhal daqqa ta harta:

L-id taraha

Izda d-daqqa ma tarahiex

Tara biss il-hmura

Fuq wiccek bla sura

Izda d-daqqa ma tarahiex

U thoss il-weggha

Li l-kliem ma jfissirx

Ghax hlief il-weggha

Dan kollu ma jezistix.

All this does not exist

All this does not exist
These words
This paper
Like a slap in the face:
You see the hand
But not the strike
You see only the redness
On your battered face
But not the strike.

And you feel the pain
Which words can't explain
Because apart from the pain
All this does not exist.

L-Ahhar Rit (The Last Rite)

2008-03-13T23:55:00.003+01:00

English translation below.

Erfa’ wiccek

Hares lejja

Jekk tista.

Iftah fommok

X’qed izommok?

Ara n-nar

Zeffien ruxxan

Qieghed jaqbez fuq il-holm

Illi hlomna t-tnejn flimkien

Hares lejja

Jekk tista

Zommli jdejja

Jekk tista

Ara l-vittma fuq l-altar

Qeghdha lestha ghas-sagrificcju

Jonqos biss li nidilkuha

B’dak il-kliem

B’dawk il-jiem

Li qattajna t-tnejn flimkien.

U kif jghosfru n-nirien

Nizzel rasek

Bla misthija

Jekk tista.

English translation...

The Last Rite

Lift your head

Look at me

If you can.

Open your mouth

What's stopping you?

See the angry fire

Like a dancer will expire

On all the dreams

That we both have dreamed.

Look at me

If you can

Hold my hand

If you can

See the victim on the altar

Ready to be sacrificed

All we need is to anoint it

With those words

With those days

That we too have shared.

And when the flames disappear

Look down

Without shame

If you can.

Too far too be right...

2007-11-27T13:13:00.000+01:00

A few days ago I had the opportunity to watch a performance by a family of African immigrants residing in Malta about their experiences and how they ended up here. The performance was touching in that it avoided the sentimental and ideal, and simply gave food for thought. This particular family came from the Congo, a country torn apart by civil war, and to get here they have had to cross half a continent through some of the most forbidding landscapes on earth. Two days after this I read a letter in a local newspaper from this gentleman who was ranting on about how immigrants come here by choice, how violent and savage they are, etc etc. In short, the usual list of racist insults spewed out by the far right across the *ahem* civilised word.

And all this has made me wonder at how all of a sudden Malta, the subjugated race par excellence which has been colonised for the last couple of millenia, has suddenly become this superior Catholic pure race. Since when is multiculturalism a dirty word for Malta? We are the most ethnically 'impure' country in all of Europe. Go through our telephone directory and you will find Semitic, Italian and English surnames all over the place. We speak a language that is a hybrid of Semitic and Romance (with some Germanic words thrown in for good measure). Our national cuisine draws on Italian and North African cooking, and our pop culture is a strange mixture of Euro-kitsch and Anglo-American materialism. And yet, we have the guts to speak about racial purity.

Apart from that, the argument that immigrants come here by choice is hard to believe, even if you discredit the the hundreds of first-hand experiences recounted by these immigrants. Who on earth would decide to cross a desert and brave an unpredictable sea in a small open boat? no-one can deny that the journey entails these treacherous crossings (unless we redraw the map to suit political propaganda). There IS a desert between Congo and Malta, and there IS a sea. We have seen countless images of the poor state the vessels carrying immigrants are in. I do not believe that anyone is willing to risk their lives in such a way simply to upgrade to a better way of life. These people want safety, not comfort or luxury. Ironically, it is 'civilised' society which is constantly seeking luxury and comfort, often at the expense of the environment, or of minorities.

It would be foolishly idealistic to say that Malta has the resources to maintain a large number of immigrants. We are a small island, and we have our limitations; limitations which very often conveniently ignore. However, refusing immigrants and leaving them in the to drift, or as some have even suggested, opening fire on them, is definitely not a solution. Amazingly enough, the gentleman I referred to above could see nothing unchristian about the former option. Since when has charity become racially selective? When Jesus said 'I was naked and you clothed me, I was hungry and you fed me, etc etc', I do not seem to recall any footnote or bracket which said 'Terms & Conditions Apply'. God's love is not an insurance policy; it is unconditional and egalitarian. Even if (and please note that I do not believe it to be so) they are savage cruel child-sacrificing tribesmen, what happened to 'Love thy enemy' and 'Turn the other cheek'?

The Church and all its avid supporters should bear in mind that when the Church first started out, it was on the verge of being an exclusive circumcised-only club. It was only through St Paul (remember the chap? 'Our father, St Paul?) who brought the rest of the world into the Church. Where would the church be if it hadn't been all-inclusive? It would have disappeared with all the other exclusive sects in vogue at the time such as the Mithraic cult.

So before we judge and condemn, let us take a step back and look at the whole picture. There are problems which need to be tackled, but sweeping everything under the carpet is not a solution. Let us not take political extremism lightly. Today, immigrants are the target. Tomorrow, it might be you. Whether because you are an atheist, a single parent, a homosexual, a disabled person, a labourer, an environmentalist, etc etc. The world is vast and diverse, and that is a fact we should embrace not oppose. Diversity is what makes us strong, not conformity and even less so superiority.

Dak Kollu li Rrid (All that I want)

2007-11-15T00:10:00.000+01:00

English translation below

Irrid:

Idejk fuq spallti

Fil-maltemp;

Imniffsejk fuq il-kozz t’ghonqi

Fl-iljieli kiesha ta’ Frar;

Xufftejk ma xufftejja

F’lejliet il-Milied;

Spallejk waqt funeral,

Idejk f’nofs Karnival;

Saqajk ma saqajja

Taht mejda f’ristorant;

Subghajk go xaghri

Il-Hadd filghodu;

U ghajnejk f’ghajnejja

Qabel ma’ norqod

Ma’ genbek.

04/10/07

All that I Want

I want:

Your hands on my shoulders

In a thunderstrom.

Your breath on my bare neck

On cold February nights.

Your lips on my lips

On Christmas Eve

Your shoulders in a funeral,

Your hands in a Carnival;

Your legs againts mine

Underneath a restaurant table;

Your fingers through my hair

On a Sunday morning;

And your eyes in my eyes

Before I fall asleep

By your side.

04/10/07

Election Blues

2007-10-15T22:45:00.000+02:00

Sometimes I wonder whether it is actually worth fighting for anything in this country, and then I find myself overcome by that same apathy which has taken its grip over most of the population. Everywhere you turn you face brick walls and the same 'nothing can change' attititude. And now that an election is approaching, it i becomingly painfully obvious what a mess we're in.

Over the past couple of years all the faults we had tried to hide have surfaced and hit us back with a vengeance. We are struggling with an unstable economy (which will be rendered even more volatile with the Euro changeover), a rapidly deteriorating countryside, a quantity of unfinished projects which lack vision, a rise in racism and intolerance, and a government which has no idea what to do with itself (including, and particularly, the opposition). The sad thing about it is that no-one seems to be able to offer any solutions or a sustainable vision. We all know that MEPA is corrupt and completely disregards environmental issues and its own policies to accomodate certain contractors, yet no-one dares do anything. We all know that our public transport system and road infrastructure is in shambles, yet all we could change over the last few years has been a few buses and a few roads. Worst of all, we all know that immigration is an issue we have to deal with, an instead we waste time hurling insults and justifying claims of a racial purity we've never had.

What we fail to realise is that we cannot change anything if we keep the same old cliques in the same positions of authority. How can any political party claim to have a vision if they have the same political make-up of ten or even twenty years ago? Even the so-called new party of Dr Josie Muscat has had little to offer. It is merely a nostalgic look back at values and views which are now either obsolete or dangerously fundamentalist. It is indeed rather ironic for a party to want to go back to traditional values (which basically mean power to white, Catholic, heterosexual, middle-class, conservative males) and at the same time advocate a voice for all. And yet this exposes a very important flaw in Maltese political thinking; that keeping the status quo is preferable to change, that education is about remembering the past and not looking towards the future, and that isolation is safer than collaboration.

The result is a collective alienation. How many of our political leaders are young and energetic? Certainly not the leaders of Azzjoni Nazzjonali, Alleanza Nazzjonali Repubblikana or Imperium Europa, who so gradiosely claim that they are the fresh air of Maltese politics. As for the two main parties, the young energetic and passionate candidates are constantly hindered by the usual old cumbersome megaliths whose faces we have been seeing for the last quarter of a century. This leaves only Alternattiva Demokratika, who so far for all their goodwill have failed to have any significant impact.

Ultimately, national confidence and pride is not about votes or political ideology. It is about our ability to listen, to think, to argue and to finally reach a compromise. What is easily apparent is that this is going to be no ordinary election. There will be changes. We cannot keep avoiding change. Let us make sure that this change is a step forward for the better and not a return to the political madness of the seventies and eighties, or even worse to he twisted ideologies of the thirties.

Finding the Right Notes

2007-08-31T19:11:00.000+02:00

So the much anticipated Mediterranean Music Academy is finally having it's 'soft opening' with the Muti seminars and concerts. It should be Malta's most important musical event this year, or perhaps this decade, so I bet we are all on tenterhooks to see how it will all turn out. This is after all Malta's Pride and Joy!

Except for one slight hitch. It has nothing Maltese about it, any more than French fries have anything French about them. So, Malta's most important music happening is an event done by foreigners, with nothing in it except foreigners. So far, so good. Nothing against foreigners; and from the looks of it they are more than competent foreigners. The objection arises when public funds are being pumped into this venture. How can the goverment justify spending thousands of pounds into such a project?

In order to answer this question, we have to ask ourselves even more questions. First and foremost is the question, 'What are we trying to achieve?', and this question can really be exended to the whole Academy venture. With funding being one of the main issues of culture in Malta, is this Academy really a priority? With a music education system which is struggling at the most elementary leves (The Johann Strauss School of Music being a case in point), it is indeed foolish to even think about having higher level music education. An Academy is really a place for professionals to perfect their techinique, and in Malta the number of professional musicians (and by extention artists) is shamefully small. And the few professionals we have, we are treating badly.

The Muti concert was preceded by a week-long seminar on Italian opera. This seminar is an opportunity to watch him conduct rehearsals, followed by a few discussion sessions. Only 15 active members were allowed, of which only 2 are Maltese. I will not go into whether it is justifiable to have such a limited number of participants, but one cannot fail to notice the meagre Maltese representation. If on one hand this project is aimed at Maltese musicians in general, then the exclusivity policy is utterly repugnant as access should have been available to a much wider audience, including music students and young professionals. If on the other hand it was aimed solely at professional musicians, then it is sad that we could offer only 2, which argument then brings us to the futility of an Academy if we have no professional musicians.

An even sadder situation is the way our only professional orchestra was treated. The members of the Orkestra Nazzjonali were obliged to sit as silent observers for all the rehearsals. This means that a group of professional musicians was forced to sit and watch a student orchestra rehearse (Muti's orchestra is in reality a student orchestra, though this is in no way to imply that they are not musically competent). This is an insult not only to the orchestra members but also to our general national pride.

An even greater insult has been flung towards the general public. The tickets for the main concert start off from Lm60 downwards. It is an exorbitant price by any means and it excludes many factions of society, not least music students. In a genre which is constantly struggling for audiences, it is utter madness to have tickets at such a price. And at the end of the day the concert on offer is not even a terribly exciting one; nothing more than a concert version of Donizetti's Don Pasquale. It is by all means very safe musical territory, apart from the fact that bel canto opera in concert version becomes nothing more than a stream of arias and duets. If this is the artistic direction that the Mediterranean Music Academy, then it certainly does not bode well. It is an artistic vision which is still locked in the pre-WWII ethos and steers away from innovation and experimentation.

Oh, yes and I actually mentioned the Academy in all this. Indeed for all this trumpeting about, no-one has as yet come up with any structure for this new instution, let alone a definite purpose for it. And yet, one can already get a glimpse of it through the programmed concerts; classicism and academicism, with some more classicism. Of course, we have all the 'East & West' discussion going on, and how the Academy will bring together east and west. And exactly how? By having Middle Eastern musicians playing Western works, and convincing them that this is so much better than their music? We will not foster cutural understanding simply by having Arab musicians coming in for masterclasses or courses, any more than I will foster religious tolerance by eating Jaffa oranges in front of a church.

More importanly, we are a decade too late on the whole idea. Daniel Barenboim has already been there and done that with the West-Eastern Divan Orchestra (an orchestra made up of Jews and Palestinians). It was a project which was born out of a real issue which affected the area. If we had to go on a similar venture we would have to look not East, but South to North Africa. That is where our real issues lie. Moreover, Barenboim's orchestra is all about letting young musicians from widely differing backgrounds come together to create something together. If members of our Orkestra Nazzjonali can't even perform for a rehearsal, I very much doubt young Maltese musicians will ever get a chance of actually performing or getting into the Academy.

Kantilena III

2007-08-27T15:28:00.000+02:00

NB: English translation below

Issa li qtilna

L-ahhar haruf

U siktet l-ahhar

Ghajta ta’ mewt

Minn grizmejh

Miftuha berah.

Issa li hattejna

L-ahhar gebla

Tat-torri li wassalna

Sa l-ghola smewwiet

U t-tnejn nitkellmu

Lingwa differenti.

Issa li haggarna

Il-Passat bhal profeta

Li qatt m’emminnih

U demmu xerridnih

Fuq l-altar gheri

Ta’ mhabbtna.

Issa li ma fadal xejn

Hlief ismek jirbombja

Mal-kaxxa ta’sidri,

Issa nista nhares

F’ghajnejk u nghid

Li nhobbok.

---Finis---

Now that we've killed

The last lamb

And the last death-note

Has fallen silent

From the abyss

Of its throat.

Now that we've dismantled

The tower that led us

To the highest skies

And we both speak

Different tongues.

Now that we've stoned

The Past like a prophet

In whom we never believed

And sprinkled his blood

On the bare altar

Of our love.

Now that there's nothing left

Save the echo of your name

Against my ribcage

Now I can look

Into your eyes

And tell you I love you.

L-Ewwel Lejl (The First Night)

2007-08-06T15:31:00.000+02:00

English translation below...

L-Ewwel Lejl

F’dak il-Lejl

Id-dlam kien abjad

Ir-rih nifs

Il-bahar xott

Ma rajniex il-pjagi miftuhin

Id-demm,

It-tbengil;

Rajna biss ‘il xulxin.

The First Night

On that night

The darkness was white

The wind was a breath

And the sea was dry.

We did not see the open scars,

The blood,

The sores.

We only saw each other.

Get the msg dude!

2007-07-26T10:15:00.000+02:00

It's been a very long time since I last blogged, main reason being I have been my usual busy self. You might think that it is impossible for anyone not to find a few minutes to sit down and write a few words, and yet 'blogging' does not come easily to me. I am not one to blog about anything under the sun. Frankly, I do not think that everything I do and everything I think is worth sharing with the whole world.

As with any other creative impulse, writing does not consist in simply putting words in the correct grammatical order, but in a careful selective process which puts forward a set of ideas. The web generation has unleashed the misguided idea that anyone can do anything; anyone can be an artist, a writer, a photographer. This arises from the facility with which an individual may access a medium and the equal facility with which he can distribute the finished product. Unfortunately, this concept by-passes an important point; the need for communication of ideas.

The idea of 'art for art's sake' is nowadays an anachronism. The illusion that there is a high culture superior to everything else and aimed at an artistic elite no longer holds ground. The technological generation has made information accessible to all. When Warhol set up 'The Factory' he wanted to mass produced art and make it available to all, little knowing that within 50 years the reverse will happen where one work can be seen/heard/read by millions through the internet. A Nepalese farmer only needs an internet connection to be able to look upon Leonardo da Vinci's Mona Lisa, and an American college student can see a Scandinavian rock band on You-Tube in the comfort of his dorm. And the more people have access to information, the more opinions on a subject there will be.

The effect of this egalitarian approach to information is that everything becomes a commodity. To the Nepalese farmer, the Mona Lisa will be just another picture, whilst the Scandinavian band is just another band on the college student's iPod. Very often, there is a gap between the producer and the consumer. In Renaissance Italy the only way to listen to a Palestrina Mass would be in a church during a sung Mass. Nowadays, all you have to do is reach for the CD and you can have as many Kyries as you can fit in a lifetime. But a Palestrina Mass was written for as specific function with a specific audience in mind. It was aimed to uplift the faithful. It is not the work of someone trying to make his myspace look cool, but of a man who has a message to get across, and knows exactly the tools he needs to achieve his aim. His process is a mixture of selection and rejection, rationality and spirituality.

This is not to say that contemporary society is unable to produce such works. A classic example is the R'n'B and Hip Hop scene which has exploded into a multi-billion spinning industry. Amidst the hundreds of tracks which all sound like an 'Ode to the F word', you find the work of people like Eminem. Sure, the f-word is still omnipresent, but the songs are not about the singer having the hots for every scantily clad woman in the club, or about how tougher he is than the rest of his rivals. His songs are about HIM, his experiences, his mistakes, and you immediately realise that he cannot communicate his feelings better in any other medium. Listen to songs like '8 Mile', and we see him (or hear him rather) stark naked; a mixture of emotions and thoughts. He is our Stravinsky, our Dante, our Michelangelo.

History tends to romanticise the 'Old Masters' and we tend to forget that most of our heroes were as dissolute as any criminal. Caravaggio had anger management problems, Beethoven was stubborn, Gesualdo a convicted murderer, and Dante a political activist. Even 'tame' Verdi had a controversial affair with Strepponi and only married after years of co-habitation. But through their works they enriched our experience by creating works which are both highly individual as well as universal. How many times do we listen to songs on the radio and we cannot figure out who it's by? But listen to an Eminem song, and you immediately know that no-one else could have written it.

And yet, he does not write a song a day, or a week even. What Warhol did not realise when he attempted to mass produce art is that it is not the quantity which mattered, but the message. seeing a hundred Mona Lisa is like having someone repeat the same phrase a hundred times. This ultimately becomes nothing more than pure nagging, and the message is lost. An artwork is made valid not by subjective opinions by its intent. We do not listen to Kylie Minogue to be moved to tears, nor do we listen to Jeff Buckley to be entertained. Yet both these artists follow a path which they pursue from the very outset. They have a message to get across, and they do it.

It would be foolish to dismiss the iPod and You-Tube generation. The world is changing at a rapid pace, and we cannot deny the power that techonology gives to the individual. Everyone can have a voice, but we need to ensure that the voices are not merely mouthing words but delivering a message. Art is not about collective ideologies (such as those that have destroyed Western civilisation over the last century), but about the human experience and the individual trying to seek a balance between his needs and the word he lives in. Perhaps if we spent less time blogging and more time thinking and acting on those thoughts, then we'd create art which speaks our voice. Not everyone can do anything, but everyone can do SOMETHING.

Post Mortem

2007-06-11T23:53:00.000+02:00

Post-Mortem

(English translation below)

Hemmhekk tkun tieghi.
Ma jkun hemm xejn x’inikkitna
Ma jkun hemm hadd isikkitna.

Meta nehles minn dan lahmi
Ma jkollix izjed demm x’nibki
U la qalb x’tinqasam
U la mohh biex jhewden.
Xejn, hlief int u jien.

Dakinhar,
Ma nintredawx izjed fid-dlam
Ghax id-dlam ikun miet.
Ma jkollniex izjed igsma
Wara xiex nistahbew.
Hemmhekk xejn mhu mistur.

U nkun nista nhobbok
Minghajr ma thobbni lura
Ghax ugigh m’hemmx.
Inkun nista nqatta
Is-sighat ma genbek
Ghax iz-Zmien ikun gheb.

U nkun nista norqod
Minghajr il-biza
Li ma nismax lehnek izjed.

Æ

11/06/07

English translation:

Post-Mortem

There you shall be mine
Nothing will worry us
No-one will silence us.

When I discard this flesh
I will have no blood left to cry
No heart to break
No mind to wreck
Nothing, save me and you.

On that day
We will no longer kiss in the dark,
For the dark is no more.
We'll have no more corpses
Behind which to hide.
There, there ar no mysteries.

And I can love you,
Without you having to love me back
For there will be no more pain.
I can spend hours
By your side,
For Time will be no longer.

And I can sleep
Without the fear
Of never hearing your voice again.

Going Solo...

2007-05-29T18:49:00.000+02:00

And finally I have taken a decision I should have taken moths ago, i.e. to launch myself into music completely. And as of next week I will be entering the world of the freelance musician, a difficult life anywhere in the world not least Malta. And the difficulty lies not simply in making ends meet, but also in determining what it is exactly that I want to achieve.

It is easy to stamp your foot on the ground, call yourself a genius and pretend you're God's gift to the musical world, like so many Maltese artists do. But I am not in this for the glory or the fame. I do not consider myself to be better than those around me, or that I have a profession which is more respectable than say a cleaner or a waiter. Music is a cruel profession; it depends on a few transient moments which few hardly remember, unless you fuck it up spectacularly, in which case your musical career is pretty much over. I am a musician because I can not be anything else; because only when I compose can I be sincere, because music is the only thing I have loved and not betrayed me, and because music is the only weapon I know how to use.

It may sound naive, but I really do believe that I will one day be able to reach out to people through my music. And by 'reach out' I mean, make people proud to be Maltese, make people believe in themselves, make people discover a feeling they never knew they could feel...make people listen and understand...and hopefully do the things I failed to do, achieved what I never cn achieve, and see what I will never live to see.

Losing gives us Vertigo!

2007-05-14T17:20:00.000+02:00

Disclaimer: I am NOT the biggest ESC fan in the world, although I do appreciate the two nights of bad taste which it inflicts all over Europe, giving me two nights of non-stop bitching fun.

So we (Malta) got chucked out by the big vodka-drinking Easter European baddies, together with the rest of decadent Western Europe. Am I saddened by this? No, not really. WHat saddens me is how seriously we take this whole charade. I am in no doubt that Olivia gave her all for the semi-final, even though I do not think it was a winning song (Sorry Olivia, no hard feelings, just a purely subjective criticism). However, it is extremely unfair to scapegoat her or indeed anyone as the cause of our elimination.

It is extremely naive of us to think that the ESC is a matter of musical excellence. It is merely a political gimmick whose main aim is to show us exactly how united Europe is, and it partly succeeds. In an elegantly choreographed voting system, we have Cyprus and Greece bowing politely to arch-rival Euro-hopeful Turkey, ex-USSR republics expressing comradeship, and Euro-wannabe Israel befriending the continent. So far, so good. It's hardly the first politically motivated event in the world. What worries me is the ridiculous amount of money which Malta invests in the contest. Money, may I add, which comes from public funds including the MCCA's budget. How can such an expenditure be justified in view of the serious lack of money for arts and culture is beyond me.

Lately, the view has been expressed that it is one of the few (if not the only) international events Malta participates in. Apart from being untrue (there are several Maltese artists involved in international projects), it would be really sad if our national aspirations reach only as far as the ESC.

Utimately, I am absolutely not bothered whether Malta participates or not. What bothers me is the squandering of public funds on an evet which does not take itself seriously. Let's get our priorities sorted. It's not the singers whom we should harass but the authorities whose responsibility the ESC is.

Super flumina Babylonis

2007-04-03T21:50:00.000+02:00

English Translation below

Hdejn ix-xmajjar tal-Babilonja
Jiena bkejt
L-imhabba li ma riditx tmut.
U dendilt hsibijieti
Mac-cipress,

U ix-xmara dejjem tigri
Lejn il-bahar kollu mluha
Lejn il-fetha minghajr qies
Lejn il-fetha minghajr nies.

Qalb l-imxarab tfajt imhabbti
Biex tingarr ma l-ilmijiet.

U fuq iz-ziffa
Ta f’lghaxija
Terga tigi
Harstek helwa
U tostorni.

U qalbi terga tghanni
Hdejn ix-xmara
F’art imbeghda
L-ghanja ta l-Imhabba
Li qatt ma kienet.

Æ

03/04/07

By the rivers of Babylon
I wept
The Love that would not die.
I hung my thoughts
From the cypresses.

And the river keeps on running
To the salty sea
To an unmeasured place
To a deserted space.

In the marshes I threw my Love
For the waters to carry it away.

And on the breeze
At every sunset
Comes your sweet smile
And engulfs me.

And my heart sings again
By the river
In a foreign land,
The song of a Love
That never was.

HOBLA - L-unika Kondom li haqqu l-George Cross

2007-03-15T23:41:00.000+01:00

Gheziez huti Maltin,

Minhabba is-sitwazzjoni finanzjarja prekarja tal-pajjizi, hawn jien umilment noffri s-salvazzjoni ta' l-ekonomija Maltija. Iva huti, nintroducu HOBLA KONDOMS, serje ta' kondoms b'toghma decizament Maltija...

Dewwaquli: Kondoms tat-Toghma:

Bigillu - Kondom toghma ta' Bigilla
'Just one dip is all it takes'

Timpanu - Kondom toghma ta' Timpana
'Ghal dik il-kisja extra'

Pastizzun - Kondom ta' Pastizzi (Rkotta, Pizelli, u Incova*)
'L-Originali'
*Fi zmien il-Gimgha l-Kbira biss

Hbejzu -Kondom toghma ta' Hobz biz-Zejt
'Il-Hobza ta' Kuljum

Zakkarina: Kondoms Helwin

Figollu - Kondom toghma ta' Figolli (Zmien il-Ghid)
'Gha kull bajda tghodd'

Kwarezima - Kondom toghma ta' kull kwarezimal (Randan biss)
'Ghax fil-hajja, kollox jista' jkun sagrificcju'

Qubbajta - Toghma ta' Qubbajt (Sajf)
'Jien armat ghall-festa..u int?'

Biskutell - Toghma ta' biskuttelli
'Ghal min ihobb ifettet'

Gaulitana: Selezzjoni Specjali Mill-Gzira ta' Calypso

Gbejnu - Kondoms toghma ta' Gbejna (Mghoxxa, Friska, u tal-Bzar)
'Ghal min ihobbu naturali'

Gaulos - Kondoms iffirmat minn Giovanna
'Taqsam kull fliegu'

Politikus: Kondoms li Jifilhu

PN - Kondom Blu
'Xorta nah***k'

MLP - Kondom Ahmar
'Ara gej'

AD - Kondom Ahdar
'L-Ghazla f'idejk'

GWU - Kondom Orangjo
'Ghal min ihaddmu'

FKNK - Kondom Kamoflagg
'Ghal min jispara'

MEPA - Kondom Griz
'Bla Permess ma Naslux'

MCCA - Kondom ikkulurit
'Notti Magiche...'

Nisi Dominus

2007-03-04T09:08:00.000+01:00

Translation of Maltese poem below...translation is crap sorry!

Unless the Lord builds this house
The builders labour in vain;
The guards keep watch in vain.

Thus I will go in the House of the Lord
Underneath the painted vaults
And with my sins tie myself
To the pilasters

And the song resounds
Against each arch
With each lash on my sides
And may the day be blessed
When my body rots
And I find rest.

04/03/07

Nisi Dominus

2007-03-04T09:07:00.000+01:00

Jekk il-Mulej ma jibnix did-dar
Ta’ xejn jithabtu l-bennejja;
Ta xejn jisahru l-ghassiesa.

Ghalhekk immur f’dar il-Mulej
Taht ix-xorok impittrin,
U nintrabat bi dnubieti
Mal-pilastri tal-korsija.

U tidwi l-ghanja
Ma kull hnejja
Ma kull daqqa fuq genbejja.
U nistenna l-jum li fih
Gismi jmut
U jien nistrieh.

04/03/07

Fatalita (Fatality)

2007-01-21T11:44:00.000+01:00

English translation of Maltese poem below...tho I think much better in Maltese...

Last night,
Just before the dawn
Tore the darkness apart
I saw your face in the windscreen
And in the mirror I saw your eyes,
And as the tyres
Burnt the tarmac
Through the shreiking I heard you cry.

And the earth melted,
The walls blurred,
The tunnel exploded,
The lines split,
The lights went out,
The glass shattered,
The steering wheel went insane,
The seatbelt choked me,
The houses collapsed,
The shops emptied,
And everything was in ruins,
Everything was in ruins,
Everything was in ruins,
Everything was in ruins...

Æ

Fatalita

2007-01-21T11:43:00.000+01:00

Dal-lejl,
Ftit qabel l-ghabex
Feraq id-dlamijiet
Rajt lil wiccek gewwa l-windskrin,
U fil-mera rajt ‘l ghajnejk.
U kif it-tajers
Harqu t-tarmak
Fit-twerziqa smajtek tibki.

U l-art dabet,
Il-hajt izzelleg,
Il-mina splodiet,
Il-linji nferqu,
Id-dwal intfew
Il-hgieg inqasam
L-istering iggennen
Is-sijtbelt fgani
It-triq inbarmet
Id-djar iggarrfu
Il-hwienet tbattlu
U kollox herba
Kollox herba
Kollox herba
Kollox herba….

Æ

The Maltese disease...

2007-01-17T20:06:00.000+01:00

I've been meaning to write a blog entry for ages, and my first target (err i mean topic) was to be the Notte Magica (yet another night of cheap entertainment in Valletta being masqueraded as culture). But somehow, I do not have the wll and energy to do it. Notte Magica was great as a fun night out instead of Paceville, but crap as a cultural experience. And I am sick of it; I am sick of it all.

I am sick of the pretentions of certain institutions (not to mention individuals) who dish out shit dressed as quality. I am sick of the hypocrisy of those who would willingly lick the devil's arse and complain about him breaking wind in their faces behind his back. I am sick of the inability of this country to realise its true potential, and let apathy reign supreme. I am sick of the cowardice of those who consider themselves rebels and non-conformists and yet suck up to the ones they criticise. And most of all, I am sick of our inferiority complex which puts our fore-fathers to shame.

Banging a drum and blowing a bagpipe is but a farce, not a renewed interest in Maltese identity. Making dumb jokes about Pullicino's size or Alfred Sant's wig is not political theatre, but primary school lunch-break humour. We can organise as many festivals and Notti Magiche as we want; they will only expose our inadequacies and pretensions. We want to honour our past? Then, let us get off our big fat arses and honour the ones that truly did something. Let's throw away all our ghonnelel, and stop re-enacting a past that probably never was.

We want a past? Well, screw all the bastions and churches, and temples and theatres. Let us honour the ones that brought them to life. Where is Dun Karm Psaila, Ruzar Briffa, and Francis Ebejer? What do we know of Stefano Erardi, Melchiore Gafa and Sciortino? Why are we fossilising the works of Paolino Vassallo, Geronimo Abos and Isouard? Why do we forget the woks of Sir Temi Zammit, Sir Luigi Preziosi and Vassalli? How are we developing their vision, and creating new ones which will do them justice?

Instead of vision we have political agendas, instead of contemporaneity we have emulation, and instead of national pride we have a parochial mentality. Sometimes I think I am mad to have stayed here. Working in Tescos in some god-forsaken village in the Welsh mountains would probably have been better. Don't get me wrong, I love my country, but just as much as I love it I hate those who do it harm in order to feed their egos. All we have gained since Indepenence is a disillusioned youth and an incompetent political system. Maybe it is only when we lose that independence that we start appreciating what we had. Then again, by that time it might be too late...

Elegy IV

2006-12-15T00:40:00.000+01:00

Translation of Maltese poem below...maltese version is much better (my own humble opinion)

The dagger rests
In my hand it waits
In the still night
Dew-fresh.

The dagger summons me
Groaning expectantly
For that second
When its sharpened edge
Pierces my skin
And parts the tan
And issues forth
Poppy red
Blood

And uncovers the threads
Of my tender flesh
And glimpses
The last beats
Of my tired heart
And as it hits the bone

The dagger sings
Wet with tears
Wet with Blood
Glistening wet
The dagger sings
Its last song
Its last ballad
Its last cry.

And then
The dagger rests
And I with him

Æ

Elegija IV

2006-12-15T00:39:00.001+01:00

Is-Sejf jistrieh
F’idejja jistenna
Fis-sakra tal-lejl
Fis-sirda niedja

Is-Sejf isejjahli
Jokrob herqan
Ghal dik is-sekonda
Meta x-xafra misnuna
Tinfed lil gildti
U tofroq is-smura
U johrog jbaqbaq
Ahmar pepprin
Id-Demm

U jikxef il-hjut
Ta’ lahmi artab
U jilmah mohbija
L-ahhar tahbit
Ta’ qalbi ghajjiena
U kif jolqot l-ghadma

Is-Sejf jghanni
Mahsul b’dmieghi
Mahsul b’demmi
Mahsul ileqq
Is-Sejf jghanni
L-ahhar ghanja
L-ahhar ballata
L-ahhar karba

Imbaghad
Is-Sejf jistrieh
U jiena mieghu.

Æ

Lacuna

2006-12-09T16:39:00.000+01:00

Yesterday evening I went to watch 'Lacuna' by the young all-female theatre group 'Du'. With me I dragged a friend of mine, who was to say the least sceptical about contemporary people in general. (He very pictorially referred to it as 'lots of people jumping about, and me trying to figure out what the hell they are doing.' By the end of the show he was visibly abosrbed in what was happening on stage, and we both left the theatre with beaming faces. That is not to say that there was no jumping about involved, or that we could figure out easily what was happening.

Du is one of the several young theatre groups which have sprung up in Malta over the last few years to fill a much needed void in the Maltese cultural scene. Likewise, one finds the group Aleateia whose current artistic silence is worrying, as one seriously hopes that this group expands artistically and explores its full potentially. They are among the few companies to produce original works which break away from the traditional scrpited play, and explore contemporary issues in a personal manner. For too many years, Maltese theatre has been choked by second-rate British comedies, conservatively rendered classics, musicals, outdated melodrama etc. Not that I have anything against the mentioned genres, despite most of them not being my cup of tea. However, these reflect the present perception of art and culture to the general population; as something which does not extend beyond entertainment.

I have nothing against entertaining art; on the contrary I want to be entertained when I interact with a work of art (and by entertainment I do not mean 'comedy' but 'involvement'). Nevertheless, we have to come to terms with the fact that all art is political, i.e. that it is construed in such a way as to communicate a message which goes beyond the superficial sensory recognition. Obviously, not everyone reacts to a work of art in the same way. For example, I cannot listen through one act of a Wagner opera, while some people would kill to go to Bayreuth to sit through 3 days of his music. But even so, I cannot deny the fact that Wagner's music commuincates a very powerful message, albeit one which does not appeal to me.

This ability to communicate is what is missing from Maltese contemporary culture. Even more worrying is that more often than not, the inability to communicate a message betrays the absence of an underlying message in the first place. Creation should be an act of self-expression; what we have in Malta at the moment is re-creation. We put up musicals and plays which follow West-End staging and direction, we write music which has no depth, we have been painting the same canvases for the last 20 years, and we re-enact the past rather than interact with the present.

If we want to move forward, and get out of this rut we are currently stuck in, we need to ask 'Why?'. Why paint? Why sing? Why Dance? If the answer to that is making money, then go into the sex industry; less hassle, bigger profits. But we would be better off prostituting our bodies, than our national pride and identity. If the answer is entertainment, let's give free internet and digital TV to everyone. It saves everyone a lot of trouble and when bored we have the option to change website or channel. But if the answer is self-expression, then let us express what is really inside. Let us all get angry at the things irritate us, let us criticise the things which annoy us, let us laugh at the ridiculousness of our existence. Whatever it is, let us do it, let us let our true voice come out.

This is what I want out of Maltese culture, and this what I am working towards: the filling of this lacuna which is seperating our self expression from the creative output. I want to see works which are Maltese, whatever the ingredients of being Maltese are. I want works which I can relate to; intelligent and entertaining, thought-provoking and amusing, honest and bold.

Elegy

2006-11-26T20:13:00.000+01:00

Translation of Maltese Poem below...(Maltese version works MUCH better...)

Do not hate me
For confessing all my sins to you.
Do not be disgusted
At my open wounds
All clotted with blood
Which I opened before you.

Forgive me.
Forgive this broken heart
Which believed in you
Which burdened you with its love,
This heart sick with your gaze.

Do not forget me,
Even if you remember me
As a bad dream
A mistake or blasphemy.
Do not forget this bard
Hurt and insane
Whimpering in pain.

Elegija

2006-11-26T20:12:00.000+01:00

La tistmerrnix
Ghax qerrejt dnubieti mieghek
La titqazziznix
Ghax ftaht il-griehi
Kollha demm u materja
Quddiemek.

Ahfirli.
Ahfer lil dil-qalb miksura
Li emmnet fik,
Li ghabbietek b’imhabbitha.
Dil-qalb marida b’harstek.

La tinsnix.
Anke jekk tiftakarni
Bhala holma kerha;
Zball jew daghwa.
La tinsiex lil dan l-ghannej
Mignun u mugugh
Jokrob mibluh.

White Nights or White Elephants?

2006-10-21T20:12:00.000+02:00

It's taken me over a week to write this blog, and still I must admit I have mixed feelings about the Notte Bianca we had in Valletta on the 14th October. Let's get the record straight, for most of the year Valletta is DEAD at nighttime, so to bring in a 100,000 people out on a Saturday night was quite a feat. So hats of to the MCCA for that. Yet, there are a few reservations which I still hold on the event.

First and foremost, I still cannot accept the fact that an Arts Council organises events. Such an event should have been coordinated by the MCCA, not funded. Then it would be up to the individuals to apply for funding for events happening on that night. There was also no clear aim for the whole event. If it was simply a question of bringing people into Valletta at night, then 'well done' it was a resounding success. If it was bringing people closer to culture, I would have to say it was a good awareness exercise which needed more substance and better organisation (which I will discuss further later on). If it was highlighting contemporary culture, then I must say that I found the whole event poor in this respect.

For all the hype, there was a severe shortage of things to do. Perhaps they did not expect a 100,000 people to attend, but even with 10,000 they would have struggled. Many people ended up just roaming the streets. Whatever energy there was at the start of it was not sustained throughout, and by midnight events started to fizzle out.

As for the programmed events themselves, there was a good mixture of events. I did not manage to see much of the events, however I did note one thing. Most of the bigger events (and in my opinion these were the better ones) would have happened anyway, Notte Bianca or not. These include Some Explicit Polaroids at St James Cavalier (fucking amazing!!!!!), the Mozart recital at the Manoel theatre (part of the Mozartfest by the Renaissance Foundation) and the militairy parade (part of the Historic Cities Festival if I'm not mistaken). Of course, we had to have a dozen or so re-enactments shoved down our throats...hate them; so stale and boring. This extended also to the tours, of which I saw one. Well part of one...it was all re-enactments and over-done acting...no offence but I could not tell whether it was meant to be scary, sexy or God knows what!

The venues themselves were interesting and varied enough, but the focus was just on Republic Street. So much more could have been done with the side-streets! Beautifully lit buildings though...wish they had lit up more buildings. And it would have been useful to signpost the City better, and to have events details posted at key points and outside the actual venues.

Compared to the Summer Arts Festival, this was a far more successful event. Perhaps because it was on a more realistic scale (comparatively speaking). One interesting observation was the lack of 'Personality Cults' in the whole communications strategy of the event. Yes, there were individuals mentioned, but they were never thrust on us as some form of demi-gods of culture as happened with the Summer Festival. It also targeted a very wide range of people, unlike the elitism of the Summer Festival. Case in point, most events were free or at least affordable. And from what I saw there was very little political pomp and circumstance, and slightly less public 'back scratching' than usual.

All in all, it is going to take MUCH more than that to convince people that culture IS enriching as well as entertaining. The business community is still sceptical about the whole idea. Case in point, most retailers were closed on Notte Bianca or opened only for slightly extended hours. They must be kicking themselves in the shins for having missed such an opportunity, for there were people wondering aimlessly round Valletta well into the early hours of the morning.

Unlike other cities, nightlife in Valletta is not the norm. There needs to be an infrastructure to cater for nightlife. This includes public transport, public conveniences, security measures, private retailers, and a continuous rota of entertainment and culture. There is a hell of a lot of work to be done, and it's not just the MCCA or the artistic community which has to do it. And this is where cultural policy comes in. It is fine to sit comfortably on one's throne and blab about cultural awareness, but those who are in a position to implement change are not delivering. Proof? Try finding the word culture in the year's budget...and then cross-reference it to the goverment's cultural policy...

Ballata III (Ballad III)

2006-10-14T01:07:00.000+02:00

Below is a translation of the poem for the sake of the non-Maltese speakers...personally prefer the Maltese version!!!

If I could, I'd forget you
As if we never met,
Never kissed,
Never launched ourselves
Rolling on a torn seat.

If I could, I'd use you,
Like a plastic bag
To carry the fears
Which choke me each day
And then, throw you away.

If I could, I'd deny you
As if I never knew you
And you'd just be one
Of the hateful crowd
Another man, another body.

If I could, I would not
Tear my heart against your eyes
Slash my wrists on your lips
Throw myself on the fire you kindle
Everytime you touch me with your breath

If I could....

Ballata III

2006-10-14T01:01:00.000+02:00

Li kieku nista, ninsik
Qisu qatt ma ltqajna,
Qatt ma tbewwisna,
Qatt ma ntfajna
Nitqallbu fuq seat imqatta.

Li kieku nista, nuzak
Bhal basket tal-plastik
Biex ingorr l-bizghat
Li jghallquni ta’ kuljum,
U meta titqatta, narmik.

Li kieku nista, nichdek
Taparsi ma nafekx
U nghoddok b’wiehed
Mill-kotra li nistmerr;Ragel iehor, gisem iehor.

Li kieku nista, ma nergax
Ncarrat qalbi m’ghajnejk,
Nislet il-polz fuq fommok,
Nintefa fuq in-nar li tkebbes
Kull meta tmissni b’imnifsejk.

Li kieku nista…

8/10/06

The Fly

2006-10-04T17:10:00.000+02:00

Yesterday, after a particularly gruelling day at work, I boarded a typically filthy bus and sat waiting for what seemed like ages for the bus to start moving. On the ripped and stained leather seat in front of me I saw a fly. Not an ordinary house-fly, but a big scaly one with red flashy eyes. Just as I looked at it, the sun emerged from behind a cloud and bathed this fly in pure afternoon light. And it was beautiful...

I had been dealing with people all day long, worked in a gorgeous 18th century edifice, had a good lunch at one of my favourite cafes, and had my wages processed. And yet, this fly was more beautiful than any of these; somehow it's figure was more beautiful than the ornate carvings all around, it's red eyes redder than any plump tomato I had savoure in my salad. Yes they can be a nuisance at times, but hey, so are half the people I deal with in a day. And if I can't squat them, why should I squat a fly?

Ballata

2006-09-16T05:30:00.000+02:00

Dakinhar,
Bil-habel m’ghonqi
Gejt inbus il-mewg.
Hsibijiet,
Holmiet ta’ dâri,
Saru velenu.

L-ugigh,
Mahbub fidil,
Ghafasni sew.
U rbatt
Il-habel twil
Ma zewg kewkbiet

Dawl,
Imbieghed,
Issa ntemm.
Bkejt
Nitrieghed
Dmugh tad-demm

Waqaft;
F’daqqa wahda
Il-mewg siket.
Hassejt
Il-habel twil
Qed jingibed.

Dak il-hin
Laqghatni l-kisra
T’ghanja minsija
Waqt li x-xemx
Fuq wiccek firxet
Is-sema dmija.

16/09/06

Æ

Just a thought...

2006-08-25T18:18:00.000+02:00

When you reach a point that you have to ask 'Why should I live?' also ask yourself 'Why should I die?', and pray that you answer the first question before the second...

The George Cross; Heroism or Colonialism?

2006-08-20T16:18:00.000+02:00

I have followed the recent debate on the George Cross on the Maltese flag with a mixture of amusement, amazement and incredulousness. Much has been said; some regarding the George Cross as a symbol of heroism, while others see it as a symbol of British colonial repression. Personally, I tend to favour the latter view. For the historically minded, two facts need to be pointed out. Firstly, Malta should never have become a British colony but returned to the Knights as laid down in the Treaty of Amiens (1802). Due to the course of events, the British remained and eventually took control. Secondly, Malta entered the Second World War not because of any ideological principle in opposition to the wave of Fascism that swept Europe at the time, but simply because as a British colony it had to abide by the decisions of the British government. In fact, there was a very strong pro-Italian faction all throughout the first half of the 20th century. Having said that, one cannot deny that many people did lose their lives valiantly during the war. Whether that sacrifice was avoidable or not remains to be seen, but one cannot deny them that honour.

The problem is whether the symbol of that sacrifice, the George Cross, is worthy of being immortalised on our flag. Was their sacrifice any less than of those who were executed by the French in the late 18th century, or than those who perished in the Great Siege? Is there such a thing as a hierarchy to heroism?

Moreover, I would like to ask all those who have so vehemently defended their views regarding the subject. Where were you a few months ago when Malta was awash with every flag imaginable except its own? How far does our patriotism really go? And how are we honouring those who died in the fight against Fascism? Is it perhaps by the rising wave of racism and far-right politics? Patriotism is more than waxing lyrical about how ecstatic you get when you behold the Maltese flag. It is about working for a better country, and doing things that will make our successors proud to be our descendants. There are a million things we have to change before we change our flag.

Summer Festival II...yeps I'm still at it! hehe

2006-08-06T15:50:00.000+02:00

just a few additions to my previous blog...

I know, I'm getting paranoid but I can't help myself! Reading some stuff that is dished out in the local media makes my stomach turn and my blood boil. In a recent article on the Arts Festival someone actually went as far as to claim that the festival is about 'bringing cultures together'. I mean, HELLO!!! where are the other cultures??? If anything, the festival is a temple of European Culture. Not that is in itself bad thing, but to try and convince us that it is multicultural is insulting. Also, one glimpses a hint of desperation when you see such new concepts being formulated with the festival half way through; proof that the festival lacks artistic cohesion, and that there was no tangible artistic policy present when the festival was thought out.

Added to this, there is the whole 'accessibility' debate, and the 'art for the man-in-the-street' argument. The fact that the opening ght of the festival was by invitation is already proof that the old-fashioned eltitist view of the arts is still present. First the chosen ones, then all the rest of us can help ourselves to what's left. Not only that, but there are no concessions to speak of, and no block tickets. A friend of mine calculated that to watch all the shows it would cost around LM73...hardly encouraging to people who are 'art-virgins' or people with tight budgets.

enough for now...but I'll be back...[cue: dramatic organ music]

Summer Festival...yeah but of what???

2006-07-27T01:22:00.000+02:00

So, summer is upon us with a vengeance and to fight off that unforgiving August sun we have the Malta Summer Arts Festival, organised by the MCCA (Malta Council for Culture and the Arts). With a very recent reshuffle within its ranks and a few new faces as well, the MCCA is doing a lot of things, except obviously what it should actually be doing. The latter include drawing up a common cultural policy, monitoring artistic activity and using those results as basis for improvement, delegating funding in accordance with its cultural policy and promoting accessibility to the arts. In the meantime, they are organising events instead of creating the possibilities for artists to organise their own. Nevermind. We can always wait a couple of more decades for that to happen. In the meantime, let us all eat cake.

Indeed, this summer festival has all the hallmarks of a confectionery shop. It is a display of sweets thrown haphazardly on the counter so that the chef patissiere can look pleased with himself as we all pass by and admire the wares. There is no artistic policy governing the programme, no direction and no goal. Hardly a surprise when there is no tangible cultural policy laid down. Even a look at the feeble marketing campaign is enough to realise the fundamental flaws in the organisation. On a purely subjective level, the official poster design, with its brightly coloured butterfly, looks more like a poster for a political demonstration during the hippy era. Nevertheless, even though I personally do not like that design, one would have thought that that butterfly would be a sort of logo for the festival. Not so. Several events have issued separate posters of widely differing styles and quality. This multitude of posters gives the whole festival an amateurish look. The organisers have also issued flyers, which give no details as to the nature of the events and the performers involved, no ticket prices, and only one mobile phone number as a ticket hotline.

This is hardly surprising, given that the official launch of the festival was little over a month ago. If the organisers really want a festival of an international standard, why was the marketing launched so late? And lack of time is not an excuse. If you do not have the time and resources, don’t do it. It is as simple as that. Thankfully a couple of banners have brightened the place up a bit, but it's a far cry from having a 'festival city'. Venture beyond the theatre ruins site and there is barely anything related to the festival, if anything at all! Thank God for the St Dominic feast which brought some real festive atmosphere.

What is even more absurd is that the organisers publicly declare their commitment to Maltese culture, when in reality there is little in the festival which is Maltese, or promotes Maltese culture. Having Samuel Beckett translated in Maltese and proclaiming you support the Maltese language is an insult to the nation. Surely we have playwrights who have written theatre pieces just as exciting. And where are the new works? Where are the spaces for up-and-coming artists? Where is experimentation and collaboration? If there are any, they are very well hidden, because let’s face it, we have heard a LOT about the organisers, but very little about the actual performers.

Last but not least, we have heard so much being trumpeted about cultural tourism, and have even had analogies with the Edinburgh festival. Well, sorry to burst your bubble, but 80% of the audiences in the Edinburgh International Arts Festival are locals. So if this festival is aimed primarily at foreigners, well good luck to you, but do not try to make us believe that it has been organised for the Maltese people.

On Racism and Nationalism

2006-07-02T12:56:00.000+02:00

The ANR (Malta's very own far-right political party) has been really trying hard to deny accusations of racism. The situation reminds me of the BNP in Britain which uses the 'freedom of speech' argument to justify its agenda. Somehow, both parties in question seem to forget that freedom is a right which should be available to all, and that tolerance of other people's freedom is the key to keeping things in balance. Moreover, far-right politics is by its very nature culturally exclusive and against cultural diversity and multi-culturalism.

However, one must say that the situation here is becoming alarming and somewhat ridiculous. Malta is facing over 500 immigrants a week and the rest of the world (including the EU) is watching passively. No matter how kind-hearted and tolerant one is, one cannot help but notice that Malta is too small to be able to cope with such an amount of people. It is no longer a matter of xenophobia vs tolerance, but of common sense. After all, these immigrants are not contributing anything to the economy, and although conditions are far from perfect there are many among them who are not making things easier. Resentment is coming from both sides, and it is giving way to unbridled hatred. And it is here that the ANR comes into the argument. It is a party which associates itself with the extremist far-right Imperium Europa party (for those of you who don't know, it is a party which amongst other things wants a racially pure europe, and empire with malta at its centre and the re-introduction of Latin as the language of the European intelligentsia). These parties are using fear as a political tool and thinly disguised racism under the banner of nationalism.

One might argue that there is a genuine nationalistic feeling within the Maltese, and this brings me to the second point. If we really are so god-damn nationalistic, can anyone explain the English, Italian, brazilian, german and other flags flying everywhere because of the World Cup? If we really are so proud of our country why do we fly the flags of other countries and not our own? WHy do we cheer madly (and fight) over other nations' gains and losses? What is the meaning of those endless carcades each time England or Italy win? WHy blast away 'God sve the Queen' and then no one sings the Maltese national anthem at events? Have we forgotten that England made us into a colony illegally? Have we forgotten that Mussolini and HItler had no qualms about invading Malta? Where in the world do you get such nonsense?

The sad answer is that we feel inferior to everyone and everything under the sun, and all this ANR bullshit is simply a way of picking on someone weaker than us. YES, there is a problem with illegal immigration, and YES I do support any HUMANE measures to repatriate these immigrants because Malta cannot support them. But I cannot support racism, hatred, violence and bullying from EITHER side. And I will definitely not support those who wave the flags of other countries and suck up to foreigners.

TRINITA

2006-06-20T23:19:00.000+02:00

Trinita

Fl-isem
Tal-Missier li qatt m’gharaft
Ta l-Iben li qatt mhu ha jkolli
Ta l-Ispirtu-Melh fuq gismi
Lili sawwruni.

20/06/06

Æ

Let's talk about sex

2006-06-04T18:47:00.000+02:00

Sex. We all love it...or do we? That is what the recent KDZ campaign is all about. In a typically patronising fashion we are being told not to indulge in carnal pleasures until marriage. Reasons; respect, love, and God's disaproving looks as we partake in pre-nuptial hanky-panky. All fine, except that we are kind of missing a few crucial points.

Point #1

Sex is an instinct. Please, don't give me the romance and love shit. Sex is as physical as OliviaNewton John in a lycra catsuit, albeit slightly more appealing. It all boils down to a few chemicals called hormones, and a very demanding group of chemicals they are. Proof? All living things do it in some form or another, and the human race is the only species which attaches so much emotional importance to the act. That in itself is not a bad thing, but it still boils down to instinct. It is as insticntive as hunger, thirst, and the need for shelter.

Point #2

Sex is not equal to marriage. KDZ seems intent on pursuing the idea that sex is a by-product of marriage. It is an absolutely ridiculous assumption. Firstly, since sex is an instinct (i.e. biological) and marriage is a contract (i.e. social) the two are unrelated. Secondly, why is it that of all the aspects of a relationship sex is the one deemed less important and therefore not worth trying out before sex? Who has decided that sex is evil unless within a marriage? The KDZ should do some proper research and see how many married couples have little or no sex life simply due to uncompatibility. Worst of all is that sexual incompatibility can effectively destroy a marriage. Yes, I agree with KDZ that sex is not a commodity and should involved respect of the other partner, but to say that that respect can only be found in marriage is patronising and naive.

Point #3

Contraception and STIs are a priority. Let's face it, if you are going to have a shag, you will have it no matter what anyone says. All it takes is a few martinis on the rocks and it will soon be love on the rocks. So, for God's sake teach people how to avoid risks. Also, people have the right to know what risks they are facing. I wonder how many people are suffering from STIs and a) do not know it and keep on being sexually active b) know they have an STI but are to afraid/ashamed to seek medical help. Whether you agree with pre-nuptial sex, we all have a right to inform people. The KDZ campaign is in effect a campaign of mis-information. Witholding information in such crucial matters is a criminal offence. No 'holier-than-thou' attitude will stop STIs from spreading. Where are the free condoms? The information leaflets? All we have is a GU clinic heroically struggling against all odds, only to find its work undermined by such shambolic campaigns. It's like telling smokers 'don't smoke'...it takes a whole lot more than that.

Ultimately, we have to get over our fear of sex. The message should not be abstinence but responsibility. We are going to end up with a generation of teenagers who have no idea what sex involves and that it is intrinsically evil. Would you go to your driving test without having driven a car before?? I doubt it...

The Artistic Guide to Men

2006-05-19T13:20:00.000+02:00

Men. Pigs? Princes? They are a work of art, and like all art there are different styles. So, here is your official artistic guide to men:

(credit for this list goes to FABULOUS FAB! who first came up with the idea of a 'Monet')

1. Michelangelo: whoa mama! hunk-o-man...pure lean beef!

2. Monet: looks better from a distance

3. Picasso: Nice features, but in the wrong place

4. Dali: Interesting. but f***ed up!

5. Da Vinci: camp camp camp...

6. Damien Hirst: Intellectually engaging, but not much to look at

7. Van Gogh: Nice, but you can't help thinking there's a bit missing...

8. Warhol: VAIN!

9. Mondrian: as exciting and colourful as M's paintings...

10. Munch: SCREEAAAAMMM!!!!!!!!!

Malta against racism...

2006-05-16T12:37:00.000+02:00

Just a short blog message to express solidarity with all those individuals targeted by the recent arson attacks because they voiced their support for illegal immigrants. I am ashamed that such events are happening in my country due to the ignorance of a few individuals.

Clearly, those responsible for the attacks have run out of whatever arguments they had. Violence is not a solution; it never is. Yes, there is a problem with illegal immigration, and Malta is too small to be able to support them. HOWEVER, there can NEVER be any justification for harming another human being. I hope the government takes quick action on this, and that a solution is found.

I hope to write a longer blog on the subject. In the meantime, I will support anyone who believes in the right to individual freedom and in a world without discrimination.

The Mummification of the Forlorn Book

2006-04-25T11:15:00.000+02:00

Last Sunday (23/04/06) was World Book Day....ever heard of it? Don't worry if you are Maltese and have never heard of it. Most Maltese people haven't. A day of events was held at St James Centre for Creativity...do you know where it is? If you haven't, do not worry, for most Maltese people haven't. For all the official trumpeting from the authorities, most Maltese people have never been to StJames' Cavalier, let alone seen a performance in there. A great part of them have no idea where it is. I had the good fortune of being invovled with the events held at StJames Cavalier so I could watch and take part in the whole process. I will not bore you with details and anecdotes, of which there are many. I will only comment on the general trends that emerged from all this.

We are a nation who has fossilised books in the same way we have fossilised all other art forms. Books are there to be purchased, displayed, and possibly read. Anything more than that is superfluous. While crowds flocked to book sales, they shied away from interactive book-related events. Many expressed disappointed at not finding a book fair at StJames. No wonder we are facing a drop in literacy and book reading; we have taken the joy out of reading.

And yet, those who did give the events a go found them interesting and enjoyable. They attended more than one event, and gave enthusiastic feedback. The events were informal, informative and innovative. I cannot remember any event in Malta which had a full day of high-quality events going on simultaneously. It was fantastic to come so close to authors, to see them in action as they discuss their works. All of the events took place, save two performances (one of which due to illness). In an event of around 40 performances, this was an encouraging ratio, especially considering that this was the first event of its kind ever to be set up at StJames.

There were some notable gaps in the crowds that came to StJames. First and foremost, the lack of students. Where were the Maltese and English BA students? Where were the B.Ed students? And why is it that most of the teachers who accompanied the school children on the following day had no idea what was in StJames let alone attended performances there? Most of them had boredom written across their faces, and some were blatantly texting and answering calls in the middle of the reading sessions. Hardly a good example for the kids.

One absence was conspicuous; that of the Minister for Education. Althou he did turn up the following day for the 'World Book Day for Schools' event, his presence on Sunday would have definitely boosted the event. Is it possible that he had no time whatsoever on a Sunday between 10am to 10pm??? And if he couldn't be there in person, why wasn't a repreentative from the Ministry sent? If the authorities do not show enthusiasm, how can we expect the rest of the population to be excited about things?

It was refreshing to chat with the people behind the Merlin library stand, for these were people genuinely enthusiastic about books, not to mention knowledgeable. Alas, the Agenda stands did not strike me as professional, and I got the impression that selling books was more important than promoting reading. I sincerely hope that this is not the case. Once more, if we want people to buy books, the sellers have to promote reading not just purchasing books.

The installation by Pierre Portelli in City Gate gave people the chance to obtain free books and share them. One hopes that these books were at least read, even if they weren't returned. What is sad is that some people were blatantly taking piles of books simply because they were free. Some where even more daring and took the fridge-lights and in one case broke the casing to steal the LED (the small red light on the front). Ultimately, this installation was not about the artist or StJames or any other individual, but about the general public. The whole set of events was done for the benefit of the public, and the more interest generated the better the event. But then again, if the Minister doesn't bother turn up, we can hardly expect anyone else to do...

Orkestra Nazzjonali: Building Confidence

2006-04-03T00:08:00.000+02:00

Last Saturday (April 1st) I attended a concert by the Orkestra Nazzjonali conducted by Brian Schembri. Those of you who know me or have read m blog know full well that I'm not very easily pleased and that criticisms comes easily to me, yet I can say it was bloody fantastic. The orchestra played with such enthusiasm, and the musicians were on an adrenalin rush. There were hair-raising moments, funny moments, powerful moments; a whole spectrum of emotions all coming from the much maligned Orkestra Nazzjonali.

The first thought that came across my mind was, 'HOW?'. How can this orchestra which usually sounds bland, sounds so exciting? How is it that these musicians who tackled beethoven awkwardly, are now at ease with shostakovich and ravel? How did the individual soloists manage to produce such beautiful sounds as opposed to the usual note-bashing? I do not wish to be misunderstood, for I do have faith in the Orkestra Nazzjonali, but usually the standard of playing is inconsistent throughout a concert or season. Many people are quick to dismiss them as keen amateurs at best or incompetent players at worst. For many the Orkestra Nazzjonali is nothing more than yet another ribbon in the great fancy dress party that is our goverment. Yet, it has massive potential, and this was proved last Saturday.

Lots of reasons are given for the Orkestra's poor standards; lack of funding, limited resources, bureaucracy, goverment meddling, etc. While all of these are true to a certain extent, the main lacking ingredient is CONFIDENCE. How would you feel if for the past decade everyone told you you are bad at your job? How would you feel if everyone expects you to screw up each time you played an instrument? Hardly a stimulus for improvement. The sad truth is that most musicians within the Orkestra Nazzjonali have given up. They have resigned themselves to the lack of interest shown by the public and by the goverment. They have resigned themselves to the fact that their job is merely to scrape a few tunes at special occasions. These are musicians who want to be playing exciting music, working on exciting projects, and going to exciting places. Instead, the goverment treats them as common civil servants, or worse manual labourers.

Some people criticise the Orkestra for not doing enough work, and forworking ridiculously few hours per day. Well, firstly, they need to have concerts and projects to work on for them to actually work, therefore responsibilty for their inactivity lies with the managing board. Secondly, these musicians are involved with other ensembles and do other concerts. And NO, it is not wrong for them to do so. The more work a musician has, the more experience s/he will gain, and the better his playing will be. By taking on extra work the orchestra members are enhancing their skills and will perform better within the orchestra.

The Orkestra's resources are limited, with very small facilities and no resident concert hall. The rehearsal rooms ae tiny, claustrophobic and acoustically poor. There is no space to accomodate a full orchestra, and no room for education projects etc. The Orkestra needs a new home; a concert hall, rehearsal rooms, recording rooms, project rooms for masterclasses, etc. The Royal Opera House ruins in Valletta would be perfect for such a venture. A complex that would cover that site as well as Freedom Square. In turn the project would be combined with a new Gate for our capital city to replace the hideousness we now have. It would also be next door to the St.James Cavalier Arts' Centre, which would offer endless possibilities. Does it seem to grandiose? Well, if the goverment is not willing to invest in culture (living vibrant culture, not the fossilised fake cultural we dish out to tourists), then what will it invest in?? The proposal for a new parlaiment building on the Opera House site is preposterous. It is a colossal waste of money, since it is NOT a priority, and let's face it, it's not like that they do any work anyway. It's like building a state-of-the-art cock-fighting ring; at the end of the day they are still going to tear each other's throats out.

One might be forgiven for thinking that such a project is too big for a bunch of fiddlers and pipeblowers, yet at the end of the day it is a project for all of us. It is not just the musicians who need confidence. We all need confidence as a nation. We need to find our true identity and break free from the inferiority complex that Imperialism has inflicted upon us. We will not regain confidence as a nation by bulilding roads, tasteless apartement blocks and golf courses. We need to express ourselves as a nation, to realise that we are no less than our European and African neighbours. The Orkestra Nazzjonali should be our voice, our song. Through it we express our dreams and desires, and from it we get the inspiration to build a better Malta. Impossible? Those who were there on Saturday night know that it's not. Difficult? Yes, but if we put aside personal interests we can achieve that dream.

Tarquin on Carnival, Glasgow and Burping...

2006-02-25T20:01:00.000+01:00

The world's most exclusive social club is back with more news from Edinburgh...

Dearest George,

I am writing to you on the eve of a great celebration being organised by the Royal Society of Edinburgh, to commemorate this festive period known commonly as Carnival (although we like to refer to it as the Feast of Frolics...much nicer, don't you think?). Even as I write, Felicity is on her way to my mansion to help me supervise the servants, and maybe assist with some festive servant-flogging later on.

Since you have left the colony a lot of things have happened. Plans have been approved for the flattening out of east Glasgow, and a brand new hotel & spa complex built instead. The inhabitants will be either re-located or else housed in a special nature-reserve. We are currently working with the American goverment on the best way to control dissenting minorities and enclosed communities. We are also working on establishing a Museum of Neds, and our in our final talks with Irn Bru for a financial deal with the company.

Cecil and Marjorie have just acquired a charming villa as their permanent residence. I have not seen the place as yet, but rumour has it that it is a residence worthy of the Queen herself. Ohh, speaking of the Queen, I bumped into the Prince of Wales recently, and he has been inquiring after your whereabouts. He's very keen on re-staring the Tuesday-nights cigar clubs, and I must say I miss them as well.

The highlight this month was Virginia's achievements at the Royal Burping Club Annual Competition, where she walked away with a Gold Medal for her polyphonic scented burps. The competition was stiff, but she out-burped all the other competitors from across the globe. I cannot help confessing, that I shed a tear when she was proclaimed victor...I know, I know, I'm such a softie. In fact, in order to avoid the humiliation of public grief, I had to abuse the new young stable-hand in various ways in the goosebury bushes in the grounds of the venue.

I am afraid I have to leave you for now, for I can hear the soft rumbling of Felicity's Mercedes across the drive-in. I wish you all the best of health, and may life be up

Yours

Tarquin.

God Save the Queens

Ikona

2006-02-05T13:07:00.000+01:00

U Alla aghmel il-bniedem
Xbiha tieghu,
U fis-seba jum
Strah.

U f'dak il-jum
Il-bniedem aghmel Alla,
Xbiha tieghu;
U lil Alla hadd qatt
Ma rah.

Little Child

2006-01-23T21:37:00.000+01:00

Recently I was listening to one of Malta's old entries for the Eurovision song contest; 'Little Child' sung by Mary Spiteri, and for the first time in my life I listened carefully to the words. Much to my surprise, they actually made sense. For those of you who follow the Eurovision song contest will understand immediately what I mean. It is not exactly the type of festival renowned for its original and l yrical songwriting, but rather its reputation rests on being kitsch, cheesy and predictable.

Few other Maltese entries have been of any decent standard, even though we had some enjoyable tongu-in-cheek Europop songs. Among the good songs we had, one can perhaps single out Chiara's songs and Ira Losco's song. Do not get me wrong, they are not exactly my cup of tea, but still they have a personal touch with which one can associate. No-one could really imagine Chiara singing 'Seventh Wonder' or Ira Losco singing 'Angel'. And this is precisely what is lacking in most of the things we do on that god-forsaken island; Personality. Everything that is mainstream, from music, to architecture, to visual arts, etc is impersonal, and imitative.

We are obsessed with recreating and re-enacting and restoring. The fundamental problem lies with the handful of narrow-minded people controlling the arts in Malta. It is not enough to play a piece or to sing a song; for it to be of any artistic value it has to be interpreted by the individual. Artists need to get more involved with their work, both emotionally as well as intellectually.

I need only take my subject area as an example. Classical music in Malta is synonymous with Mozart and Beethoven, Opera is synonymous with Verdi, Rossini and Puccini, and Ballet is merely a hobby for pre-teenage girls. Contemporary music is simple a dull and dreary soundscape full of cliched gestures. We have the pseudo-Romantic film soundtrack drudgeries by Vella and Galea, and a long line of unknowns who bore us to death with some long drawn sacred piece or some cheesily titled 'symphonic' dribble. Only Camilleri has managed to create an opus which is both varied and involving (save the occasional foray into the pitfalls mentioned above).

So before we even attempt top market Malta as a cultural centre of any relevance we need to reassess the role of an artist. We need to distinguish between creativity and imitation. Those managing the arts (if there is such a thing as arts management in Malta!!) need to understand that their job is not to control the final product, but to set universal standards and create a productive environment. If we ever want the arts in Malta to progress we need to rediscover the individual and re-instate him/her in its rightful place as the fulcrum for creativty. It would not be an over-statement to say that the arts in Malta are witnessing a rebirth...but we need to make sure that this 'Little Child' grows into a big strong man.

Toni Blues

2006-01-14T21:13:00.000+01:00

Back in Edinburgh...after a long Christmas holiday without my beloved laptop (RIP Dec 2005) and time to face the facts...Toni is gone! I am gonna miss him a lot but I'm glad he stayed in Malta to give the Maltese cultural intelligentsia a well deserved kick up its back side. As a tribute to such a great guy, I have written this Ode...I'm afraid it's in Maltese but I know that's how he would have wanted it...

Toni Bluuws.

Minghajrek ix-Xemx titla rasha l'isfel
Minghajrek il-Qamar jkun dejjem vojt
Minghajrek l-unika stilla tkun il-banda tar-Rabat Ghawdex
Minghajrek il-hwienet tax-xorb ibieghu biss ilma
Minghajrek Ego ikun burdell bin-nisa Russi
Minghajrek il-Bibbja jkun fiha biss zewg Testmenti
Minghajrek il-Mars ma tinqeliex izjed man
Minghajrek il-Highlands isiru ghalqa hurrieq
Minghajrek it-Teatru Manoel jtella biss kabarre
Minghajrek il-Yellow Garage ikollu riha ta' ward
Minghajrek il-pastizzi kollha jkunu bla xaham
Minghajrek id-dghajjes tal-karti jgherqu fl-ghadajjar
Minghajrek Chez Tarquin ikun bla klijenti
Minghajrek il-Eurovision issir kuntest ta kant liriku
Mingharjek hajti tibqa' ghaddejja, imma tkun
Minghajrek...

Edinburgh 14th Jan 2006

Queer Faith...

2005-12-03T14:45:00.000+01:00

Once again, our beloved *cough* Pope Benedict XVI has decided to launch a renewed crusade against those evil beings commonly referred to as homosexuals. Now, its seems, if you display 'strong homosexual tendencies' you risk being barred from the priesthood. The reason, as quoted from a CNN report, was given by Msgr. Steve Rohlff, rector of Mount St. Mary's Seminary in Maryland, as "It flows obviously from the church's teaching on human sexuality, which has been constant from the first century to the 20th century -- that homosexuality is an intrinsic disorder. It is a psychosexual disorder."

The scariest bit of that statement is not the fact that homosexuality is defined as a 'psychosexual disorder' but that 'the church's teaching on human sexuality...has been constant from the first century to the 20th century'. In 2000 years Catholic doctrine on sexuality has not developed at all. Some may argue that no Catholic doctrine has changed, but some of the most fundamental doctrines in the Catholic church took centuries to shape up, including such pivotal points as the virginity of Our Lady. So, if the church is willing to bide its time and modify its approach to issues of faith, why is it so difficult to develop and update socio-cultural issues??

And yes, homosexuality is NOT a question of Faith. Someone who is gay is capable of believing in God and loving God just as much as any other person. The Catholic church has no right to deny anyone access to God. Moreover, if we use the Bible as our main source of doctrinal guidance, two important factors arise. Firstly, the issues of doctrine within the Bible change drastically from the Old Testament to the New. For example, views on slavery, divorce and the Sabbath were radically altered by Jesus Christ. Secondly, if Jesus is truly the most important figure, then His word outweighs that of the rest of the Bible, and as far as I know, there is no single utterance made by Jesus Christ against homosexuality in the Gospel.

What is mind-boggling is, how can a book like the Bible, whose fundamental message is one of universal love, be used to justify discrimination and opression. With its conservative policy, the Church is alienating its members and throwing away what could potentially be an opportunity to create tolerance and bring peace on a universal level. The modern Church should spread the message of love, tolerance and respect, rather than lose time trying to create genetically-modified souls.

Whatever hope of reform there was with the late John Paul II, who despite not being exactly liberal was an improvement on his predecessors, has been pitilessly and ignorantly crushed by a Pope stuck in a time-vacuum and a cardinalate more intent with preserving its own elite club then spreading the true message of the Gospel.

Personally, as a gay Catholic, I refuse to give up faith because of the narrow-mindedness of a few old men locked in an ivory tower. And if the Catholic Church will not accept me, no one can stop me from belonging to the Catholic Faith. I am far from being a model Catholic, but I have always tried, and will alway try to be tolerant of everything and everyone, to try to understand rather than judge, and love rather then hate.

Ashes

2005-10-31T20:01:00.000+01:00

In this age where Hope is free
We rush to buy despair:
We close our lungs with blackened smoke
And struggling gasp for air.

To want is not to need too much;
To feel is more than just to touch.

I might as well burn all my dreams
For they will pay a pound for Death,
But won't spare a penny for my breath.

Æ

30/10/2005

Virginia writes from Finlandia

2005-10-24T21:01:00.000+02:00

More correspondence from the world's most notorious and exclusive social circle.

My Dearest George,

I send my profoundest apologies on the severe lack of correspondence since I have been transferred to the region of Finlandia but things have been terribly disorganised here. The population lives in utmost barbarity; they have no golf-courses, drive on the wrong side of the road and sit naked in wooden boxes with their genitalia exposed to communal viewing.

I arrived here late in August and was posted in Her Majesty's Imperial Barracks. My room, though small, was delectable, with plush Harrod's furnishings and an assortment of Indian fabrics to upholster the place. May I add that there is a splendin fireplace which is fuelled by Nordic pinewood...ohh it gives off such a lovely aroma George! Unfortunately though, it's getting more and more difficult to get pinewood since we have already burnt 10 hectares of forest since we first set up the colony.

But enough about me. How is the fair city of Edinburgh? Is it still full of pleibeian Scots, or has Operation No Haggis succeeded? I heard from Tarquin that you have moved abode to the Royal Terrace. It is a lovely place isn't it? And Calton Hill behind it is simply gorgeous! When I come back I was thinking of building a luxury leisure resort on it. I'm not sure which style would blend well with the area. I was thinking something on the lines of Hawaiian meets Windsor.

Do send my love to all, especially Victoria ad Felicity. I am dying to meet her new fiancee. Do tell me the gossip about him...you know, name, provenance, wealth, breed...

My love to all,

Long live the empire,

Virginia

On Change

2005-10-13T15:32:00.000+02:00

It's been ages since I last updated my blog. Since the last entry a lot has happened, and I can say that I am feeling like a totally different person to a few months ago. I suppose that is what one would term 'coming of age' or 'bcoming an adult', and that is something I have no desire of doing for the next thirty-odd years.

I always feel that becoming an adult is equivalent to becoming a member of some prestigious social club; a preserve of the very few. One is now expected to conform to the establishment, and settle down into an orthodox existence. One is obliged to abandon all reactionary ideas and any notions of change. Becoming an 'adult' (i.e. a socially acceptable role-model citizen) entails redefining oneself to fit social moulds.

Even in a world were single-parenthood and broken families are becoming more common, rejecting the idea of family and/or children is still a social taboo. In short, one should think of having a family/children even if you don't actually plan to have one. The same goes with everything else in modern society. One should think of it, even though if you don't do it. For example, acceptance of minorities: you should accept them in principle even if you can't stand the sight of a coloured person or a homosexual. The result is an inherent hypocrisy within the fabrics of society.

Religion, with all its faults, had one noble purpose, to create a morality. With the abandonment of religion, people began forming individual moarlities which were based on personal whim and self-satisfaction, and not any genuine desire for a better world. Sadly, nowadays people do not want a better world but a more comfortable one. What matters is not 'Is everyone happy?' but 'Am I happy?' What many people do not realise is that individual happiness depends on the general well-being of everyone around us, because no matter how hard we try to convince ourseloves otherwise, we need each other. No man can live on his/her own; we have gone to through much social development to go back to that elemental idea of the 'natural man'. Even Rousseau had to ultimately admit defeat, despite having a noble vision of mankind.

We have become a race afraid of change, for we have seen the dangers of extreme idealism and blind optimism. The faith of the Futurists in technology ushered in an era of scientific barbarism, the discovery of atomic power wiped out entire cities, nationalism gave way to violent racism, and advances in mass communication gave way to general paranoia.

And where does all this leave me? It leaves me stranded in the 21st century with a heavy load of questions on my back and a few tentative answers in my hand. I have learnt a lot, and am learning still. I have learnt that I am but a small insignificant part of a greater whole; I am a mere mortal just like anyone else, and that we are all born equal. I have learnt that superiority comes through learning not force, and that the summit of superiority is humility and self-criticism. But more importantly I have realised how at twenty-one, I am already disillusioned with humanity, and that if I cannot change the world I live in for the better then my life is a waste and I am a failure.

On Golf and Sustainability

2005-09-17T12:54:00.000+02:00

Below is a copy of a letter I sent off to the Times of Malta for publication.

Over the past few weeks we have seen a large number of letters in your paper which dealt with the issue of the golf course. There were a lot of arguments for and against, with the latter being thankfully in the majority. The arguments brought by some in favour of the venture verge on the ridiculous. Environmental sustainability aside, I cannot imagine how a private venture with a limited clientele can bring tourism back on its feet. Surely we have more priorities on that front!

I have recently had the misfortune of visiting the National Museum of Fine Arts in Valletta. I was appalled at the sorry state it is in, with peeling paint, crumbling ceilings, broken glass panes and an overall shabby look; the only exception being two bright green rooms on the ground floor which have been spruced up by Heritage Malta. So, assuming that the golf course is affordable in terms of environmental cost, what else do we offer this newly found ‘high-class’ tourist? A crumbling cultural heritage, a pitiable public transport, shabby roads, and a landscape which is becoming increasingly marred by new ‘developments’.

When one considers that the site itself is fundamentally unsuitable for golf (the site is too exposed and too dry) one begins to wonder whose interests lie behind the venture. I find it hard to believe that this proposal was put forward for the good of the nation. Not that the nation really matters since all grand projects are usually aimed at the few and the privileged. Personally, I have become part of that ever increasing faction of Maltese society which is becoming increasingly disillusioned with the run of events. We have a political system which has not evolved since the 1970s, and ruled by individuals who are themselves a product of that time. It would be a welcome change if someone actually came up with a project which is sustainable, beneficial, and forward-looking rather than just lame excuses to justify the complete disregard of the population’s wishes and needs.

A thousand things

2005-09-08T23:31:00.000+02:00

There are a thousand things I could write down; a thousand thoughts going through my head. There a thousand things I would like to do; a thousand dreams to turn into reality. And yet I feel blocked...as always. Sometimes I have a dozen syllables on my tongue and yet I manage to utter a word I do not want to use. Sometimes I have a thought and yet, for fear of upsetting the world around me I hold it back. Even as I write, I cannot write all that is going through my head.

To the world I may seem sweet and jovial, maybe even trivial. How little they know me. How little I know myself. There are times when I say or do something which I would have never thought myself capable of saying/doing. I feel something within me; something powerful and unexplainable. A force of which I'm not sure I should be scared of. One thing is for sure, I am not proud of myself. All that I have is not mine. I am forever in debt with something better than me. God? Maybe. I believe in God, but I wonder if He (or She) believes in me...

God exists. I cannot rationalise this sentence but there have been moments when I have felt something beyond the physical. It was no miraculous vision or wondrous religious ecstacy. It was the mystical pull of the commonplace; the allure of simplicity. God is the morning dew. God is the sweat on our brow. God is a hangover. God is a fly. God is an ant. God is a cancer. God is a cure. If I can understand the simplicity of life and learn how to balance the equation between Life and Death, maybe then I can stat to understand myself. Till then, I will just have to lose myself in a thousand things...

Random Thoughts II

2005-09-04T14:42:00.000+02:00

Summer's almost over, and G's left me for 3 and a half months to do a semester in Finland. It wasn't until the night before she left that it hit me. I'm gonna miss her. She's been supportive, helpful, understanding and most of all patient. But it's not simply because of that that I'm feeling a bit blue.

Slowly I'm facing the end of yet another chapter in my life. I will soon leave my student days behind me and face the real world. I'm not scared of the future. What scares me is losing my past; the people I've loved and hated, the places I've been and those I've never seen. Once more, I have to face reality and the prospect of yet another change of lifestyle. Change is what keeps us alive. Change is what saves us from the dullness of our urban existence. Yet, change can overtake us and before we know it we have lost all that we held dear to us.

Life is short. People come and go. People change.

Maybe, as Bart Simpson once said, this world is merely the dream of a giant beetle...

Maybe we are after all dwarfs on the shoulders of giants.

Maybe I am not what I am.

Maybe I am not.

Maybe...

Life is too short too live on a maybe.

Against Memory

2005-08-20T18:53:00.000+02:00

‘When I was younger, I could remember anything, whether it has happened or not.’

Mark Twain

Of all the faculties of the human mind memory is perhaps the most volatile. There is a fine line between memory and the imagination, between the real and the fictional. No matter how good one’s memory is there is no way anyone can remember everything to the full because even while translating that memory into some form of communication there is distortion and loss of information.

We live in a world full of distortion where reality itself is not constant or universally true. Our lives are built on memory and our ability to store information and relate it to the world around us. Memory is the vehicle through which we build our reality. For example, right now I’m giving my back to the door, and the only way for me to know that there is a door is through memory. The door is there because I can remember it even if I don’t see it.

We live in an age where we are continually bombarded with information and we are under constant pressure to take in as much information as we can. We have woven such an intricate existence that forgetting even the slightest of tasks will prove detrimental to our lives. What would happen if one forgot how to switch a light on? Or forgotten how to start a car? Or even forgotten how to use a telephone? This has led to an overload of images and mental functions which no longer relate us to the words around us, and this overload leads to stress and maybe even depression. How many times do we switch a light on for no purpose? How many times do we feel the urge to upgrade a computer or mobile phone? We still use primarily the basic function of the object and yet we crave for more applications which in turn would require more memory space. And when we speak in terms of better computers, is it not an enhanced memory which we usually look at first?

There is of course nothing wrong in being able to store information, but forcing oneself to remember everything blindly is alienating to say the least. We have, as individuals, become even more solitary. People are failing to relate information to the world around them and storing information for information’s sake. We are suppressing our faculty to imagine, to create new worlds which enhance and contradict our reality. We have shunned the ability of the arts to challenge our world, and instead we have been bogged down by such empty words like ‘political-correctness’ and ‘globalisation’.

We should stop deluding ourselves that we are ever going to create a perfect reality, a sort of mental utopia, for the minute our universe stops changing we will succumb to boredom. There is no deadlier weapon we could create than boredom. So for once in our lives let us forget, or rather, let us remember the things that never were. If it is true that we want a better world let us remember it before it happens, for nothing can happen unless we remember it.

Till Now

2005-08-11T21:27:00.000+02:00

It's been quite a while since I last wrote. I've been incredibly busy...well still am really! I'm way behind with my commissions but hey I'm an artist! I need inspiration! And I'm prepared to find inspiration at all costs even if it takes more than the usual amount of alcohol and choc0late...

Meanwhile, while I find some inspiration for my music I came up with yet another scribble...not that people seemed to be particularly enthused with my poetry! But hey, at least here I can publish it without making people pay to read it. And if you don't like you can always hit the back button I suppose!

Till Now

This much I know:

I am the fly on a leper’s wound;
Where shall I go?

I am but dung feeding the king’s vineyards;
What shall I grow?

I am the mustard seed blown about by the wind;
Where shall I fall?

05/08/05

Æ

Death Wish

2005-07-26T17:03:00.000+02:00

As I had promised, here is a poem in English...

Death Wish

I want to die
With the sun in my eyes
And the wind as my shroud
I want to feel the soil
Against my rotting flesh
I want the rain drops to fill
The gaping sockets of my eyes
As they stare at the vastness
Of the Life I leave behind
And behind me to feel
The limestone that was
My coffin when I breathed
The air I polluted with my thoughts
Vain words in a decaying world
Rotting slowly into the soil
Where hungry roots wait
To grow again around my ribcage
And flower over my flesh
An ointment for my corpse
A sweet balm that soothes
And reminds me how much
I want to live.

19/07/05

Æ

18 holes to Disaster

2005-07-11T23:31:00.000+02:00

It has been some time since I last wrote in my blog and since then I've had this thought incessantly running through my head; that Malta is going scarily downhill. The country I'm living in is a country beset by apathy and carelessness. We have an impotent goverment who is obsessed with making the rich richer while disregarding the struggling middle and lower classes. This is counter-balanced by an equally powerless and self-destructive opposition whose main aim is to prove the goverment wrong rather than prove its own views right. But of course, you have to have views to prove them right, and neither party has any.

The much trumpeted EU accession has been one massive dissapointment, for rather than radically changing our stagnant politics it has only painfully highlighted our inadequacies and shortcomings. We have a volatile economy which is surviving by the skin of its teeth with only the property market having any stability. The latter however, has gone ridiculously out of hand. Prices are beyond the reach of the average buyer while one wonders how the multitude of hideous tiny apartements could possibly attract foreign buyers. The Maltese landscape is being eroded by those who could profit the most from it. The goverment is not only indifferent, it has the cheek to propose such projects as the new golf course in Ghajn Tuffieha where hectares of virgin land are being sacrificed to 'progress'. The local planning authority MEPA then proceeds to give the go ahead to the project in a disgustingly inconsiderate way. How a golf course (an exclusive private venture for a select few) can benefit the Maltese economy is beyond me. Well, the Goverment can build all the golf courses it wants for it is going to take more than 18 holes to get the country back on its feet. It would be simpler and far more viable to promote sea-sports of which there are quite a few in existence, but that would be too logical I guess, and it would not benefit the few fat cats who monopolise the economy and hold the Goverment in ransom.

Where does this leave us, the groundlings? We have let ourselves be monopolised by the priviliged few whose claim to these priviliges rests on nothing else but vain promises. The Maltese nation is a nation of disillusioned youths and resentful adults. The country is suffering from an intellectual brain drain as more and more people are leaving the island hoping for a better life.

The solution is neither simple nor easy. We are in desperate need of a leader, someone who has no political allegiance and who has the interests of the country at heart. So far, the only ray of hope has been the green party Alternattiva Demokratika, but it still hasn't offered us the leader we need. We have been complaining long enough. Now we need to go beyond mere words and start putting our thoughts into action. No more complacence, if we really want to save our country from irreversible decline we need to act now.

Lazzarett

2005-07-02T11:07:00.000+02:00

Lazzarett

Fis-skiet l-imwiet
Ta’ tama mitmuma
Bla hoss hosbien
Wahdi fid-dlam
Delli mitluf
F’cappa sewda
Ta’ hsibijiet dubji
Thewdin tgerfix
Biza’ kbira miexja
Fuq gismi imbengel
Bid-daqqiet ta’ dnubieti
Hafna dnubiet hafna
Ma jinghaddux
Bhal stilel fid-dlam
Bla hoss hosbien
Jien trab tarbija tajn
Ghajjiena l-ghajn
Li tara u ma tifhimx
Ghaliex? In-nifs
Nofs hajti mohlija
Nigbed l-ossignu
Li wara narmih
U nahli mieghu nofs
Hajja bla hjiel
Bla sinjal ta’ tama
Mitmuma f’cpar
U qalbi nar
Li ma jintefiex
Qabel ghadmi
Jsir irmied iswed
Bhal hsibijiet
Kliem bla sens
Li ma jezistix
Bhali u bhalek
Holma kerha
Bla tmiem bla kliem
U jien ghajjien
Irrid nistrieh
Fejn marret ruhi?
Tliftha meta hrabt
Minn dawk li warrbuni
Minn dawk li gidbuli
Li jifhmuni
Jien m’jien xejn
U x-xejn aqwa minni
Hajjti ma tiswiex
Hlief biex ikejjlu
Ix-xejn iswed
Li ma jitqiesx
Jien il-kuruna mxewwka
Ma’ ras il-Mulej
L-istallet imwahhal
F’qalb id-Duluri
Jien il-weggha ta’ l-omm
Il-kundanna ta’ huti
Il-profeta li jaghraf
Li ta’ xejn thabbar
Lix-xejn iswed
Li fih jistaghnew
Il-bnedmin ghomja
B’xewqathom
Haggruni nitlobkom
Ghax dak jisthoqqli
Hlief biki u qsim-il qalb
Ma naghtix
Genn konfuzjoni
Ma niswiex l-ossignu
Li bih nahli nofs hajjti
Ma nafx izjed x’naghmel
Min jien fejn sejjer
Ghaliex il-giri
Bla sens lejn il-mewt
Gisem infettat
Gisem imgiddem
Kollu jnixxi
Demm bzieq materja
Kliem fieragh
Hisbijiet bhal griehi
Li ma jinghalqux
Izda jdemmghu
Bla waqfien icarcru
Ma’ wicci mhaffer
Mill-mohriet tal-Biza’
U wahdi ninghalaq
Fis-skiet nitghallaq
Bi hsieb l-imwiet
Ghax hajti mhi xejn
Hlief nifsijiet
Vojta vojta.

Æ

01/07/05

The heirs of 1984

2005-06-27T21:50:00.000+02:00

When I was 16 (Choir: Ohh Happyy Daysss!!!) I read two books which would influence me immensely. One was Anthony Burgess' A Clockwork Orange, the other George Orwell's 1984. There were two aspects of each book which had an impact on me. The first was that I share the name and passion for classical music with that of the (anti)hero in A Clockwork Orange. Regarding the latter, it was the date of the title which happens to be my year of birth. The similarities were a bit disturbing, though lets face at 16 anything as small as a spot behind your ear can be disturbing. The two books however made me think about the world I was in and the world I could have been born in.

Fortunately for us, the events described in each book have not materialised...so far! Without the advantage of historical hindsight our age seems undefinable; a mixture of paranoia, pessimism, fundamentalism and apathy. What amazes me most is how this pessimism is not limited to the proverbially rebellious youth but to the middle-aged generation which is for the greater part of young people that of their parents. With all respect to all currently middle-aged persons, I cannot help but notice the disillusionment on their faces each time I look at them. It's like they never got over the failure of post-war optimism to build a better world.

What worries me most is that brand of pessimism is appearing in the younger generations. All the benefits of technology and accessibility of information are not being chanelled in the right directions. At the moment I am teaching English to foreign students and at times I cannot help noticing the lack of imagination these kids have, which is a pity because deep down they have a lot of potential. Our present world condemns imagination and dreams thus creating a void for the younger generation which they try to fill with empty amusement. Over a hundred years of unbridled Romanticism followed by over fifty years of scepticism and totalitarianism have taken their toll on humanity and we are at the risk of descending into full blown apathy.

That is why, I believe, the Arts are on a decline in many countries. I have often faced the 'Why do you study Music' question. The main goals for people nowadays are pleasure and money, and the two are mutually inclusive. I still cannot explain satisfactorily why Art is important. All I know is that it gives a pleasure which is independent of time or place, and it enriches one's Life in way which money can never do. It has also made me question the world around me and look at Life differently. And it is by questioning and analysing that we can arrive at any answers. We have been sleeping for too long, and too few have been dreaming. It is time we wake up and make those dreams come true and re-write the soundtrack to this world.

Melankolija

2005-06-23T02:40:00.000+02:00

I have decided to start including some of my poetry on my blog. Although I do not consider myself as apoet sometimes it's the only way I find (other than music) to express certain thoughts and emotions. I apologise to non-Maltese readers, and I promise that I will try to include an equal amount of poetry in English as well as Maltese.

Melankolija

Il-jiem, l-iljieli,
Sighat ta’ frugha
Mohlija fil-hsibijiet
Ghanjiet bla hoss
Poeziji bla kliem.
Il-granet, tfal pastardjati
Tewmin bla xebh,
Qhab ta’ l-Eternita.

Iz-Zmien,
Bosk sewdieni
Li fih intlift;
Irdum li ppruvajt
Nixxabbat mieghu sal-quccata,
U ma kull tbexbix
Mal-qiegha ninstabat
Ta xejn nintrabat;

U biex ma nahlix hin
Qghadt inkellem ‘il-mejtin.

Æ

22/06/05

Mission Impossible: Watch Opera on Water!!

2005-06-18T13:32:00.000+02:00

[Music: Mission Impossible Theme]

Date: 16th June 2005
Time: 19:00hrs
Place: Portomaso Marina
Mission: To get past the Security Guard at the Dress Rehearsal for Madame Butterfly

It may sound exagerrated but that is exactly how it felt trying to get in to the dress rehearsal of Madame Butterfly last Thursday. A few minutes before going in my friends in the orchestra messaged me saying we might not be able to get in because the guard was stopping everyone. My God, I thought, they have extended elitism to the dress rehearsal as well. Is it not absolutely ridiculous that students willing out of their own free will to attend a cultural activity get barred from it for no apparent reason? Anyhow, my friend and I decided that it was better to sneak in than try to go in the proper way, for if were to be refused there was on chance of sneaking in and getting away with it. After much going around the complex (including the HUGE underground parking) we finally sneaked in through a side entrance. With a bit of mingling with the choir and musicians we finally sneaked in.

Horror! Horror, horror horror! The stage! Aarrgh! It was ghastly! It was meant to be a realistic set: a Japanese (??) landscape at the back with a Japanese (??) house on the right and a few odd pieces of furniture. The 'landscape' was a mass of blue 'trees' and 'plants' which looked like it had just been lifted out of a school production of Miss Saigon. The trees looked like overgrown thyme bushes, not to mention the mathematically impossible bridge in the distance (can you imagine how useful a perfectly semicircular bridge is??). The small house was bearable even though the two dragons on top looked like eels on a bad hair day. The furniture (which I suspect was from MillIdeas!) was unobstrusive but the ornaments!! God they were kitsch! A stupid looking enamelled bird on the table and then, for that added contemporary touch, a dark wooden frame with gilded corners and a black and white photograph inside it. Some of the props were so naff that they elicited laughter from the singers themselves during the rehearsal!

The music itself was actually better then I expected, and given the enormous problems with sound balance in such an open space and humidity both singers and musicians performed well. It would have been helpful if the singers had stage direction though. It is unheard of that an opera has no artistic director. Nonetheless they pulled it off well.

I am positive the singers and musicians gave their all on Friday night and will do so tonight, but I personally refuse to pay Lm40 for such a poorly staged production when I pay only around Lm12 to watch professional companies like Scottish Opera. But then again, if students are barred from the rehearsal, one wonders what the attitude would be towards them for the actual performance!

The Gay Virus and the Collapse of the Roman Republic

2005-06-13T18:24:00.000+02:00

This is a letter I sent to The Times in reply to a letter which appeared on the 13th of June 2005, which letter can be found on: http://www.timesofmalta.com/core/article.php?id=190085

Dear Sir,

I refer to the letter ‘The threat of gay marriage’ by Mr. P Kokoski (13th June 2005) and was amused and angered at the attitude towards homosexuality. Speaking of homosexuality as a ‘phenomenon’ makes it sound like it is some form of commodity gadget everybody wants. Homosexuality is as old as the human race, and proof of which is the Bible itself, for if it had not existed it would have hardly been worth condemning, would it? Also, referring to it as a condition implies some form of bio-medical disorder, and as far as I know no ‘gay virus’ has been detected.

I was amused by his phobia at homosexuality destroying marriage. One would think that some form of Gays Against Marriage league was afoot. Gay people ask only for equality not preferential treatment. As to homosexuality ‘violating natural law’, whatever that may be, it has been well documented in various animals including primates. If he thinks marriage is a ‘natural law’, may I remind him that it is a purely social construct. Therefore, is the sexual act is to be merely a procreative act, marriage is absolutely unnecessary. Luckily for the human race, marriage exists, and should be encouraged. It is also true that homosexual unions tend to crumble more easily, but has it ever occurred to Mr Kokoski that society is no way helping gay unions survive? If a gay couple is faced with antagonism everywhere they go, then no wonder that they will retreat into a ‘gay bubble’, and this poses a huge strain on a relationship. I certainly do not advocate promiscuity, for too much of anything is harmful. It is wrong for someone to indulge in unbridled sexual activity and the cost of hurting other people, but it is just as wrong to indulge in religious fundamentalism, regardless of people’s free will, for the sake of moral personal gratification.

However, I would like to thank Mr Kokoski for informing us that the late Roman Republic collapsed due to moral licentiousness. Somehow I thought that the murder of Caesar, and the power struggles of Octavian, Marc Anthony and the Senate had something to do with it. As for the Bible, apart from being one of humanity’s most powerful works of literature, it is open to interpretation. If you compare the Old and New Testament you will notice the different attitudes as ancient society evolved. Of course, we can always go back to the Deuteronomical Law and reintroduce slavery and gender segregation amongst other things. If so, I’d be more than happy to go into the circumcision business…

In Memoriam Karin Grech

2005-06-10T03:53:00.000+02:00

I do not know whether I am going completely nuts or whether I'm turning into a sentimental freak, but I cannot help but write this entry.

I have been lookin at topics I could tackle for a music theatre piece and somehow the name 'Karin Grech' crossed my mind. For those of you who don't know Karin Grech was the daughter of Professor Grech, a doctor at St Lukes in the 1970s & 80s, and I am told a member of the Labour party (not sure about this!). Profs Grech was sent a letter-bomb in an attempt to kill him. The attempt was politically motivated. Tragically, Karin happened to open the letter and she was killed at the tender age of fifteen.

If the details of the story are sketchy it is that I couldn't find any reports or articles which deal with the case. I found only one website which dealt with the tragedy, and this was written by a Pakistani doctor who was working in Malta at the time:

http://www.dow77.com/Magazine7.htm

The worst part of the story is that Karin died because of someone else's petty rivalries. She was the victim of politically motivated secterianism, and as a Maltese citizen I feel ashamed that such a thing happened in Malta. I cannot understand how a whole nation can be at peace knowing that this innocent girl's life was wasted for nothing. It seems that by naming a hospital for her and putting up a few commemorative placards people seem to think that her life has been redeemed. That is why I wish to tackle this shameful incident in my piece. My intention is not to judge, there are law courts for that purpose; I only want to turn Karin's name into a cry for reconciliation so that such a thing may NEVER again happen.

I would love to get in contact with people who have any form of information on the case (incl. people who were alive at the time), or people who can tell me where I can obtain such information. I would also like to get in touch with her family to ask their permission for such a project.

I must be out of my mind...

In the Footsteps of Virginia

2005-06-04T20:27:00.000+02:00

In the Footsteps of Virginia

The lounge was awash with the glimmer of candles which were rooted perpendicularly into solid silver candleholders. The soft strains of a string quartet floated across the room as the delicate aroma of French wine and cheeses permeated the mild June evening. Everyone was delicately poised on their seat as Tarquin diligentely went around his guests and seeing that they were duly entertained.

It was a special evening for Tarquin since there was Evangelikos Papparocolopoulos the Greek ambassador and a strange tall fellow whose name he did not know who was the ambassador to Cypryus. So far he was pleased that everything was to their satisfaction although he did notice the Cypriot ambassador wince when he offered him Turkish Delight. 'He must be on a diet of sorts,' Tarquin thought, and thus made sure he stayed clear of the desserts table.

Virginia's parents, Lord Orlando and Lady Miranda van der Loos, were also present at the party, as were Victoria and George. Lord and Lady van der Loos were totally oblivious of their daughter's communion with the Other Side, but the others kept a watchful eye on Virginia lest the events of the previous weeks repeat themselves. Despite their paranoia, her friends were partly jealous and partly curious of the whole affair. Virginia had changed visibly, and their was a certain glimmer in her eyes, the likes of which the Saints of the Church have when they exprience a divine apparition.

The evening was wearin on quite steadily and Tarquin, in his efforts at socialising, was drinking more wine than usual. It was after all a Chateux Saint-Sulpice 1957, a very palatable Bordeaux. They stayed drinking till 10 o'clock when the chaffeurs arrived to escort them to RUSH (Royal Unionist Scottish Hall) for a reception in honour of Lord Archibald Gray the new President of the Royal Society for Science and Technology.

The ballroom was stunning! The Bohemian crystal chandiliers illuminated the intricately decorated walls. Jet black tuxedos brushed against hand-tailored ball gowns. A small orchestra played Strauss waltzes and polkas, while native Scottish waiters waited on the hundred or so guests taht were in the room.

'Oh! George, look darling!' cried Virginia.

'Yes tell me my pumpkin'

'The waiters are wearing Scottish skirts! Aren't they adorable!'

'Indeed, quite uncanny I must say darling' said George as he swung his brandy in his typical debonnaire fashion.

'I think they look perfectly ridiculous,' announced Victoria quite assertively.

'Well, sometimes you have to preserve these silly traditions to keep the natives contented my sweet,' said Lady Miranda, 'otherwise the Empire would be immensely difficult to control.'

'How curious you should mention such a thing! That is precisely what I was discussing with Tarquin the other day, isn't that right oh my mulberry bush of delight?'

However, there was no Tarquin to answer back. George's eyes opened wide and Victoria looked furtively around her. Tarquin had disappeared from sight.

'Oh good God! There he is!' exclaimed Virginia quite suddenly.

Tarquin was holding a glass of wine high in the air and embracing one of the kilted servants. Victoria nearly died of shame at the sight. His arms were swinging everywhere and going in directions that were beyond respectability. George went silently behind him and tried to pull him away. Seeing that this gesture failed he resorted to stronger treatment and proceeded to join his closed fist to Tarquin's left eye. Tarquin seemed to calom down momentarily, only to grab George by the neck and dance around the hall in a psychotic waltz routine.

'The Light!' he cried 'Virginia, I have seen the Light!'

Lord and Lady van der Loos looked crossly at their daughter wanting an explanation, but Virginia had turned around and hid her reddened face behind her Venetian embroidered fan.

Victoria quickly summoned her chauffer and made a sign to George to take Tarquin to the door. The two were still locked together in a tight embrace and dancing furiously to a polka, and George needed to find a way to excuse himself.

'It's all right!' he cried to the audience that had by now assembled around them. 'It is just a little dance we used to dance in India! No fear my fellow gentlemen and ladies, it is simply a dance they dance in Chandraguptah! You know how strange these Indians are, ha ha.'

He managed with difficulty to steer Tarquin towards the door. Once outside they heaved him into Victoria's vintage Rolls Royce, still crying out, 'The Light! The Light! I feel the Light inside me'!

George, forgetting all codes of conduct, jumped into the vehicle with Victoria at his side. They drove like mad towards Victoria's mansion and hurriedly took him inside. After Virginia's experience they were taking no risks, so they carried him into the boudoir. Tarquin was swaying uncontrollably and nearly upset the floral arrangement that graced an 18th century Tuscan half-table that had been recently installed in the ante-room.

They entered the door and Tarquin cried once more, 'The Light! The Light!' and the light came spewing forth all over the bathroom floor...

The End

Epilogue to Third Year

2005-05-31T01:21:00.000+02:00

Third year is finally over! The much dreaded (and with good reason!) third year is finished. Writing these words fills me with an awkward fascination as I look back to what has been a weird and wonderful year!

It has been the year when I hit twenties and as much as I would like to deny this, it does change your life. Actually, I am lying. It is not Life that has changed, but my outlook on Life that has turned on its head. I have become aware as to how powerful music can be, and that it can change people irrevocably. I realised what a responsibilty it is to be an artist, and I am angry at those who abuse both the term and its implications.

I have also questioned my Faith more and, balsphemous as it may sound to some, I have discovered new things. I am a Catholic. Of that I have no doubt. The problem is whether I am a good Catholic, and I admit openely that I am not. The first main problem is my sexuality which is at odds with Catholic dogma, but personally to reject the whole of Catholicism over something so trivial (and yes, I do believe that in the greater sphere of things my sexuality, and indeed my Life is trivial) is absurd. I have often wondered wheter this is hypocrisy from my part, and I have not yet come to an answer, but this much I know:

I am guilty of having used people for sexual gratification, and although I have never forced anyone into doing anything, I did not have the balls to stop on the occasions I should have.Of this I am ashamed. BUT I feel no guilt for loving a fellow human being and expressing that love in a physical way. Love is not a sin. I believe that unless something takes advantage of, is disrepectful of or voluntarily harms someone/thing, it is not a sin. Am I a bad Catholic? Well, probably yes, and I don't pretend to be a holy Catholic, but at least I am honest with myself. I do believe that there IS a God, and that he is IN the Church, but he is not THE Church.

So! Artistic crisis and Spiritual Crisis...I am actually not terribly perturbed about either; I do not expect an answer any time soon! But questioning is what keeps me alive.

So far one would be forgiven to think that I have spent a year in solitude fighting my demons. As attractive as that sounds, I did not! It has been a rollercoaster of a year and I have met some fantastic people! I think it is only fair to thanks some of them here...

The Maltesers in Edinburgh (and Scotland!)

My God! Where did all these Maltesers come from?? It has been incredible! There must be over thirty of us studying in Edinburgh! And the incredible thing is, they are all great ppl! For the sake of brevity I will not mention all of them, but I must mention the hardcore ones lol!

Gisele...Only two words: THANK YOU! You are Ammaaaazzing! Also a roaring good laugh lol! You're THE BEST!!! ;-)

Toni: Toni Group of Companies has been amazin! Parties, Tours, Theatre, Argumentss! Hehehe, I'm proud to be Assistant Manager LOL Thank you Toni!

Veronique: Hehehe such a way with words lol! Thanks for your help and humour! :-)

Lee Ann: The calmest person EVER!!! You just cannot not love her! And thus I join the ranks of those who love her to bits!!! :-)) Love U Leeeee!!! ehehhe

David: Rationality made flesh! :-) Also, an amazin photographer! I just want to apologise on behalf of all above for our insanity! Hope we have not had adverse effects on ur health! ehehe

The Music Crew

I am lucky enough to have some wonderful people in my year! Again, I'm gonna mention just a few ppl!

Brian: You are totally nuts! Also a great musician eheh Your insanity (and ur great character!) has helped us get through a lot! Thanks!

Hannah: Wonderful clarinettist, sharp wit and great morale booster!

Ally B: It's not fair! U can play and u can sing! And u r great at both! eheh I'm sooooo jjjeeealous! lol actually, im proud of ya girl! :-) You will always have a fan in me!!! :-))

The Malta Crew

I mentioned you last not because you are any less important to me but because like the Finale of an opera the ending is the best bit!

John: LOVE YOU!

Do & Ol: Love you too my loverliessss! I wanna marry you eheheh! Thanks for being there for me!

James: Even if we don't always see eye to eye we have always forgiven each other, and for that I will always be grateful

Bobbina: Some people have seen 'things that go bump in the night', but knowing Bobby I can say I know of 'things which go bump every other minute' eheheh, and she has certainly bumped into my life and left her mark there! A mark which I will carry proudly all my life! :)

Welll....I had better stop! This has turned out into an epic entry lol!

Last, but not least, I would like to thank my parents without whom I wouldnt be who I am today!

xxx

Keeping Opera Afloat! - Opera on Water and Exclusionism

2005-05-24T01:32:00.000+02:00

Keeping Opera Afloat
Opera on Water and Exclusionism

I have just spent the past hour browsing through some of the most depressing arts journalism I have as yet come across. When reading about this year’s ‘Opera on Water’ production one would think that we are mounting a month-long opera festival with spectacular staging and top performers in a massive performing space. Interestingly enough, the merits of this year’s production are measured against the 2003 La Boheme production, and not against internationally acceptable standards. Moreover, that success was not accorded to the production’s artistic merits but to its financial and marketing value.

After reading the available literature on this event, one is no doubt that the main aim of this event is simply a money-making one. The main premise behind the idea being, ‘What other ways are there of making money?’, and since tourism is the backbone of the Maltese economy, they went for a niche tourist market, that of Arts Tourism. This exclusionist approach is extremely damaging to the Arts in a country like Malta where Classical music is available to the ‘privileged few’. Thus, the first message being sent out by the Opera on Water team is: ‘Opera is for Tourists’. This statement has been graciously supported by Minister Francis Zammit Dimech, ‘We can only hope and insist that this will be the first of a recurring event that Maltese persons as well as tourists can start to look forward to every year.’ (http://www.franciszammitdimech.com/art/030803.htm).

To reinforce the exclusionist aspect, the opera is being held in the Portomaso Marina, one of the most oppressively luxurious hotel complexes on the island. Is it possible that in a country surrounded by water, we had to go for a privately owned artificial marina? Although to be fair to the organisers, they do deserve credit for taking the initiative even if one does not agree with their approach. What is worrying is that the Minister instead of lamenting the lack of such productions on a public level, is lost in ecstatic praise for a private venture. It is not that private ventures should not get any credit, far from it, but to try and take credit for it as a public venture is extremely unprofessional. If the government really wants to promote the arts it should support its own ventures not wait for the private sector to do the dirty work.

After the disastrous BOV International Opera Festival we really do need a serious rethink of opera in Malta. Probably the best one can find are the Gozo opera productions held annually at the Aurora and Astra Theatres. Although they are often artistically weak there is genuine enthusiasm in their organisation, which is more than one can say for the BOV Opera Festival. The ‘Opera on Water’ project, despite its exclusionism, at least hasn’t descended into megalomania (despite being termed colossal by the DOI http://www.doi.gov.mt/en/press_releases/2005/05/pr0670.asp). It is still avoiding the term ‘festival’, which in Malta seems to be applied to anything which runs over 3 hours, and it is not ‘International’ another much abused term in Maltese culture.

What is definitely an improvement this year (apart from the elimination of the gala dinner in between acts) is the inclusion of Maltese performers, though I am still looking forward to an all-Maltese opera production one day! The stage will also be raised higher than last year making it easier for the audience to watch. The venue itself has lots of charm and potential, even though the idea of open-air opera is not as ground breaking as the Minister thinks. (The promoters chose deliberately to be different – to opt for an outdoor venue, to offer different dining and wining options during the production breaks, and to create in the process a different and original event rather than simply beating the same track! http://www.franciszammitdimech.com/art/030803.htm). It is only in conservative Malta that mainstream performances are restricted to conventional spaces. Even then, the ‘Opera on Water’ venture is merely a theatre without a roof, and there is much more that can be made out of the space.
Before I conclude this article, I would like to mention briefly the way the event was reported on the web. L-Orizzont, maltatoday, di-ve.com, In-Nazzjon, and Il-Mument yielded no information. With the exception of di-ve.com, these newspaper are devoted to party politics which automatically excludes arts (well, at least in Malta anyway!). Di-ve.com is more devoted to popular culture, and regrettably, not the best culture journalism around at that! The MTA website and The Malta Independent have only a cut-and-paste article taken from the DOI website. As for the DOI article, half of it is a speech by Minister Zammit Dimech on hotel occupancy figures; how it is relevant to opera is dubious. Only The Times of Malta bothered with an original article rather than a regurgitation of official sources.
Thus, the glamorous ‘Opera on Water’, marketed for tourists, organised for profit, and shunned by the local media remains an elitist event aimed at foreigners. When one considers that most local productions produced in our national venues do the same but are of lesser calibre, perhaps the ‘Opera on Water’ is not so bad after all. What I want is not to put an end to this event but to challenge it with better nationally produced performances which would be more widely accessible. Nothing is healthier than competition and collaboration in the Arts, and that is exactly what is missing in Malta.

For Reference Only 1

2005-05-22T12:45:00.000+02:00

Extracts from 'The Social Register', the ultimate directory to nobility across the Empire. This is to be used for reference only.

0231. Lady Virginia van der Loos, 8th Duchess of Cornwall

Descended from an ancient and noble Dutch family of landowners, among whom Etheldreda van Steenk and Meister Lindos van der Loos.

0176. Lord Tarquin van der Blit Junior, 12th Duc d'Aquitaine

Descended from a Belgian noble family. Ancestors include St. Peter the Apostle and Pope Alexander VI (Borgia pope). Also an accomplished musician & toy piano virtuoso extraodinnaire.

0069. Sir George Jacob Umplington, 20th Earl of Spliff-on-Weed

A true English blue-blooded nobleman, descended from Queen Guinevere and Queen Boudicca. Queens are plentiful in this family.

0248. Lady Victoria Wellington, 9th Duchess of Norfolk

Descended from the Duke of Wellington and famous a famous socialite. Reknowned for her legendary candle-light frittes-et-fromage suppers.

Tarquin's Letter to Virginia

2005-05-20T22:38:00.000+02:00

This letter has been discovered by our investigating team...

Portree, Isle of Skye

14th May 2005

My dearest Virginia,

We arrived on the island last Thursday, and we were shocked by the state of the place. There is not one 5 star hotel here or any form of luxury apartements, and the roads are unsuitable for anything more than a peasant car. We had to suffer the humiliation of a Vauxhall Corsa which did not even have a sun-roof. Our quarters are dark and dreary with six people crammed into one tiny space. There must be twenty people in the same building, living in the most appalling conditions.

Yet, in spite of adversity, we diligently set ourselves to our mission, that of civilising the island. I have already started work on demolishing half of Portree and building acceptable housing estates. I can assure you, the new 15-storey buildings will be simply marvellous against the background. The vegetation here is dull beyond belief and we have plans for planting a palm forest as well as turning some of the lakes into water-sport centres.

Our most difficult task is convincing the natives that what we are doing is for their own good. Even now, as I scribble my thoughts and send them lovingly to you, George is busy flogging some natives who dared oppose his plans for builing a road through their house. One must admire their obstinacy but progress has to be made. Where would our glorious Empire be without such measures??

I trust you are well, and I do hope that the new Iranian servant I got you is to your satisfaction. Send my fondest greetings to Marjorie and Victoria. I am hoping to acquire a section of the island so that we can build our very own Scottish Castle, but George has as yet to evict some of the natives.

Yours with loving and tender care, God bless,

Tarquin

Opera on water...who will save opera from sinking???

2005-05-13T05:15:00.000+02:00

Following the disastrous production of last year's La Boheme at the Hilton Marina, they have decided (quite predictably) to do it again! (check out http://www.timesofmalta.com/core/article.php?id=186765)

I will not go into the merits of such a production, or to why last year's production was such a flop. Suffice it to say that it was an event which stank of elitism and pretentiousness.

What is interesting is the way the article is written.

"Apart from the international opera singers, Madame Butterfly will have more than a tinge of Maltese talent with the participation of the National Orchestra and Maltese singers in minor parts."

Without wanting to accuse Cynthia Busuttil of bad journalism, it is interesting to notice the way Maltese participants are represented. As a Maltese artist I find the idea that a production will have 'a tinge of Maltese talent' extremely offensive. The problem here is not the actual reporting of the event, but rather the attitude towards Maltese artists from the part of the organisers. Unless we give Maltese performers opportunities to work in a professional environment on a national level they will never be able to develop their potential. There is no reason why a Maltese artist should not be able to sing Madame Butterfly for example. And there is no justification for always giving Maltese artists 'minor parts'. Maltese artists deserve better.

Even more illuminating is the Minister's statement.

"Tourism and Culture Minister Francis Zammit Dimech stressed the importance of high calibre performances in attracting tourists to the island. He spoke about the importance of not only having top class establishments where the tourists can stay but also organising events that enhance Malta's image as an upmarket destination."

Let's take it apart bit by bit...

"...stressed the importance of high calibre performances in attracting tourists to the island."

A nice venue and foreign singers is not a guarantee of quality, and anyway it will take a hell of a lot more than a nice Madame Butterfly to attract tourists to the dump that Malta has turned into lately.

"having top class establishments where the tourists can stay"

How about top class events and places they can go to???

"organising events that enhance Malta's image as an upmarket destination."

Is it not pathetic that opera is viewed simply as a tourist attraction and not as an art form which should be enjoyed by the general public??

Chapter 3: Virginia finds the Elixir of Life

2005-05-13T04:44:00.000+02:00

Chapter 3: Virginia finds the Elixir of Life
Virginia stood at the bathroom door for what seemed an eternity to a flustered Victoria. Her eyes were swollen and her hands trembled erraticaly.

'What has happened to you, darling Virginia?' asked Victoria expectantly.

'Oh Vicky, I do not know! I feel senseless!'

Victoria was beginning to get very concerned. Whatever Virginia saw, it must have been highly disturbing, otherwise she would not have called her by the vulgar name of 'Vicky'. Virginia was in an awful state. Her coat was ruined, as was her bejewelled Versace outfit. She decided it was best to help Virginia change into somethiong more comfortable and help her to bed. It took her half an hour to change her and put her under the covers, but with much proletarian heaving and hollering she managed to escort Virginia to the bed-chamber.

Exhausted but not defeated, Victoria ventured into the boudoir once more. If Virginia had sought the services of a water-closet, she had obviously missed the spot for there was a Pollock vomit-installation all over the hand-painted Turkish bathroom tiles. Over-riding all rules of moral etiquette, she decided to clean up the disaster on her own, and with great resolve she went into the kitchen.

Once in the kitchen she was faced with yet another problem. How does one clean? And where does one find cleaning products? Cleaning was definitely not one of the subjects she learnt from the St. Etheldreda School for Priviliged Girls. What would Sister Rosualda say if she saw her with a broom in her hand?? Indeed, what would anyone say if they saw her like this?? Alas, she felt like the tragic heroine in some great play by Shakespeare!

Suddenly, she heard stirrings in the bed-chamber. She rushed as quickly as decorum would allow and found Virginia wandering in the corridor. She could tell from her demeanour that she was seeking the boudoir yet again, but instead of turning left she turned right and opened a door whose existence she had never noticed. She managed to steer Virginia back to the boudoir, but once more the projectile phlegm missed its destination forcing Victoria to change her yet again.

This time she would take no risks, and after she changed Virginia's clothes she strapped her to the bed with ropes and handcuffs (hoping that Virginia would not ask awkward questions on their provenance or use), and covered the hand-woven Persian rug with sheets of newspaper. She then went to check the mysterious door in the corridor, and to her delight discovered an alcove full of cleaning products; she had stumbled on the broom cupboard.

Detergent in one hand (with gloves obviously) and a brush in the other she valiantly entered the bathroom. She decided to start from the easier task of flushing the loo. Her fingers pulled the golden chain that would trigger the flushing mechanism, but though the water emerged it failed to go down the pipes. Another try met with the same success, and each time the excess water would pour onto the ceramic floortiles. In situations like these one should panic, but Victoria was genetically averse to any form of nervesnousness.

She went into the dining room and opened the Georgian ebony cabinet. With as much panache as she could master at this unholy hour she extracted an 18th century silver jug with floral decorations and elongated spout. She made her way back to the boudoir and with a lower-class roll of sleeves (Ah! the shame!) she started scooping the contents of the bowl.

'Isma, let me help!' Victoria was startled at the sound of Virginia's delirious voice. 'It's OK my darling, you go rest!' said Victoria.

'Please let me help, honestly, I'm OK, honestly.'

Victoria could tell that her beloved friend was still unwell. She would never use such vulgar expressions and ill-constructed sentences had she been feeling well. Victoria now began to fear the possibility of a proleterian poisoning at the hands of some evil socialist scum.

The emptying of the bowl was becoming frustrating for everything was still stuck. All she could extract was bits of tissue paper and dinner. Virginia detected her friend's exasperation and she felt responsible. However she felt stirrings inside her which were urging her to take drastic action, and she was convinced that these stirrings were not of a digestive type.

So, overriding any inhibitions she still had left she pushed Victoria aside, and knelt in feverish devotion in front of the bowl. Her face lit up and her countenance changed.

'Oh, to what avail wouldst thou use a silver jug? Silver, gold, and precious stones are like flowers in the wind! They wilt ere they bloom! You will not reach your inner self through material possessions! Behold! The mystery of Life shall unfold before you! Behold the elixir of life!'

And thus she plunged her hand in the bowl and extracted triumphantly from its depths a nugget of pure organic shi.........................................

FINIS

Chapter 2: Virginia confronts the Dark Side

2005-05-01T03:02:00.000+02:00

Chapter 2: Virginia confronts the Dark Side

Virginia was still in ecstacy after her communion with Nature, a communion she had experienced in front of the towering Balmoral Hotel. One could tell from her rolling eyes and twisting limbs that she was still caught in a trance. George and Tarquin had considerable difficulty in avoiding her real-leather-Louis-Vitton-Spring-Summer-Collection handbag as it flew freely across the night air.

'I'm OK! Seriously, I'm OK! Thanks, but, but but, I'm...'

George and Tarquin were visibly shocked at the use of such proletarian language and embarrassment was etched all over their handsome features. Victoria noticed the gentlemen's discomfort and in an unusually quick-thinking gesture she summoned her chauffeur. The black polished Mercedes was soon beside them.

Virginia was going deeper and deeper into ecstacy, and her movements became more angular. There was a growing concern amongst them for the reputation of their class, so Victoria did the unthinkable. She removed her silk pearl studded gloves, arched her back, closed her eyes and opened the car-door HERSELF!

It is impossible to decipher what symbolic image Virginia saw inside the car, but as soon as it was opened she prostrated herself in front of the back seat and duly embarked on a courting ritual with the upholstery. George and Tarquin were aghast to see such behaviour, and without a word they slipped away from the car before more damage to their reputation would be done. Victoria, on seeing herself all alone, pushed Virginia inside and rapidly closed the door. As the slender figures of George and Tarquin dissolved into the night, Victoria looked at Virginia sprawled at her feet and prayed for the best.

***

The Mercedes pulled in the driveway of a Georgian apartement block. Victoria could not possibly go back home to her villa in Morningside. The chance of discovery was too high to risk. Instead, she opted for one of her several apartements across the town. Virginia didn't go out of the Mercedes as much as crawl out of it. Luckily for them it was dark, and no-one could notice Virginia's Silver Fox Coat with gold accessories lying across the patio. With considerable difficulty, Victoria heaved Virginia up the steps, and they slowly made their way to the top floor.

Victoria was about to ring the doorbell when she remembered that there would be no butler or servant on the other side. The humiliation of opening her own door was almost unbearable, and Virginia, in a sympathetic display of grief, started banging her hands on the door. The door opened, and Virginia was still banging. They got it. Virginia continued banging. She hit the door, the walls, the 18th century prints of the Earls of Salisbury, and she barely missed the 1788 Dutch blue-figure china vase that rested on the Victorian chest of drawers. But one thing she did not miss, the Louis IV gold-encrusted mirror with crystal globules.

Victoria watched in absolute horror as the mirror shook in furious spasms and and came off the wall. The mirror fell vertically with a thump on the floor, and as she held it from one end a piecing shriek tore through the apartement. She looked down, and beneath the mirror she saw Lucretia, the Grey Persian, trapped by the tail.

'Thank God for my pussy! Poor Lucretia, saving me once again! Look at her, isn't she adorable??'

Victoria turned, but Virginia was nowhere to be seen. She checked the salon, and the bed chambers. Nothing. She looked in the lounge and study. No-one. She even ventured into the kitchen! No sign of Virginia. Perhaps...perhaps she was in the bathroom. She was not keen on intruding on her while engrossed in private matters, but she was in an unconscious state and the Belgian porcelain toilet set could be at risk.

She knocked on the bathroom door, but the reply was merely a deathly silence. She knocked again, with the same result. She tried opening the door, and it was locked. She started to panic. She had opened enough doors that night, and she could not take it anymore! She felt like she was about to burst! And then, her phone rang!

'Oh hello darling! How are you? Yes I'm ok Georgie Porgie! Yes, yes. She is fine! Wonderful! Aw Ray-Vwar! Kiss kiss!'

As she slid her silver cased mobile phone with jewelled keys into her Gucci handbag, she turned once more towards the bathroom door. She heard a click. She unwittingly let go of the knob, something she was not known to do often, and stepped back. In front of her stood Virginia, empty toilet roll in hand and her coat all sprinkled with abstract-expressionistic patterns of vomit, and slowly she came out of the Dark Side.

(to be cont.)

The Tale: Chapter 1 Virginia finds her Karma

2005-04-25T20:47:00.000+02:00

After much deliberation and moral struggls, I have decided to document the extraordinary adventures of a remarkable individual and her achievements. In order to protect identity, names have been changed.

Chapter 1: Virginia finds her Karma

It was a dark blistery April night and the clock struck thirteen as Virginia ascended the stairway of a dimly lit Edinburgh tenement. She knew that Marjorie would be waiting for her, drink in hand with her silver-fox coat wrapped around her voloptousness.

A noise. Virginia stopped, and listened. In the depths beneath her she could hear footsteps. Discovery would be fatal. Shje could not afford being caught in public in her present state. The thought of it was too painful, and working-class sweat beads appeared on her forehead. Virginia shuddered as she imagined the humiliation of being seen in public when she was wearing Gucci handbag with Louis Vuitton shoes.

'I'm sorry darling, did I ruffle your coat?' said the voice as she felt a ruffle on her behind.

Virginia was relieved to hear Victoria's voice. As she predicted she was wearing Gucci shoes and Louis Vuitton handbag. They had accidentally swapped handbags at the Yacht Club the other night, and agreed to return the items the following day. They both floated towards Marjorie's door and knocked delicately on the mahogany surface. It was a gentle yet expectant knock, the kind of which Marjorie would comprehend.

Marjorie duly opened the door and led them in. They could tell she was on her own, for she was wearing 18carat gold, and no diamonds around her neck. No sooner had they entered the flat that they furtively swapped handbags, an action which put all of them at ease. Marjorie led them into the lounge where a sumptous display awaited them! There was Russian vodka, Italian and Spanish wine, Jamaican rum, Indian gin, Honduran whisky and an assortment of fine liquers from all over the globe.

Marjorie poured each a drink and as the crystal rims came together across the Persian carpet, they all said, 'To getting shit-faced!' It was to be the start of a memorable night where they would reach new heights and new lows.

There was a knocking on the door. Marjorie put down her drink, picked up an hoeur d'oeuf and procedeed to the bathroom where she re-arranged her hair. She then went to open the door, careful not to let her coat obstruct the hallway.

'Oh, hello darlings! Do come in! I do apologise for my delay, but you must understand that for secrecy's sake I must make do without a butler!'

George and Tarquin stepped into the flat, and gracefully planted a kiss on each of Marjorie's cheeks.

'Evening my ladies' said George as he scooped Virginia off the carpet and wrapped his arms around her.

'Oh George! You have such a way with me! I may have married you for money, but the package was well worthed!'

'Oh Virginia, said he, 'I always knew you liked my package!'

'Don't we all my dear sir!' exclaimed Tarquin who was busying himself with Victoria.

'Now, now ladies, said Marjorie, let us keep this respectable! One cannot be vulgar without having had a shot of brandy!'

'Marvellous idea my love!' said Tarquin. 'George pour us a brandy so that we may all indulge in debauchery soon afterwards!'

Brandies where poured, and garments were shed. More guests arrived, and the room was heaving with furs and frolics. Virginia was drinking to her hearts content and was immersed in an ecstatic waltz all across the lounge. Soon, they were singing their beloved songs and swinging uncontrollably. Then the clock struck midnight and as the moon emerged from behind the rooftops they all made made their way into town.

Tarquin and George stood on each side of Virginia as she propped herself up between the two handsome gentlemen. The stairs seemed endless, and for the sake of speed she vainly attempted to miss out on some of them. The procession slowly wound its way into the street and as they emerged into the fresh night, Virginia could not help but feel elated, and in a gesture of praise she fell on her knees to embrace Mother Earth. She felt her karma connect to the roots of the earth and become one with the molten lava that floated beneath her. A few steps further and she could not contain herself any longer. She raised her head, and as she witnessed the towering majesty of the Balmoral Hotel in front of her, she prostrated herself across Princes Street. It was to be the start of the Night of Truth.

(to be cont.)

On Schoenberg and Chamber Music in Malta

2005-04-23T23:46:00.000+02:00

God the world is whizzing past me like a fat man who deseperately needs a loo...fast but clumsy! I can't seem to get anything started properly, and 've got lots of loose ends and trivial assignments which I don't particularly feel like doing.

This afternoon struggling with Schoenbergian Serialism, with the aim of writing a string quartet piece in his style. Riveting stuff. Just now I'm listening to Schoenberg's String Quartet No. 3. I must admit that for all the academic drudgery that is in the piece, it's an interesting piece. I'm even enjoying it...*shock*horror*! It's actually a highly Romantic piece, worlds away from the moralising musical masochism of Moses und Aaron.

It has also got me thinking on the lack of chamber music culture in Malta. There is no such thing as a professional string quartet, although there have been (and there still are) attempts and having a string quartet. Even so, chamber combinations tend to be rare and short-lived. A culture in which music ceases to be intimate is seriously deficient. In Malta the cult of the soloist still prevails and such a democratising formation as a string quartet is undesirable. Music in Maltese society is directed towards the glorification of the individual (not necessarily the actual performer, but also a sponsor, mentor, teacher, etc) or the edification of an institution and/or ideology.

That is why Maltese cultural policy suffers from 'grandiosomania' (to paraphrase Shostakovich!). Maltese productions aim towards the grandiose and the impressive. Thus such musical masterpiece as Bartok's Bluebeard's Castle, Poulenc La Voix Humaine or Beethoven String Quartets are rarely, if ever, heard. Such a musical policy makes it difficult for musicians to form stable ensembles. The only ensembles that thrive are amateur orchestras (and here I use the word amateur in the broadest of terms!), brass bands (inextricably attached to parochial politics), and choirs (which depend mostly on religious celebrations). Smaller ensemble formations are discouraged and even the few new works being written tend to be for larger ensembles.

This is the crisis of chamber music in Malta, and it is not merely a question of musical preference. A chamber ensemble demands, by its very nature, constant interaction and mutual development as a group. High standards can only be achieved through constant rehearsing, and the quality improves as the players get used to each other. The aim of a chamber ensemble is not virtuosic display or ideological statements. It is an intimate musical conversation where players and audience are equals.

Unfortunately, equality, intimacy, dialogue and selflessness are not part of the official Maltese cultural policy, and thus chamber music is ignored.

I think I'll write a string quartet on this...

Thank you Dr. Stefanova!

2005-04-16T08:03:00.000+02:00

How sweet! In an article in The Times of Malta titled 'Theatre critic laments lack of contemporary culture' by Massimo Farrugia, there was precisely what I've been thinking and saying all along, although this time from a foreigner! I would like to publicly thank Dr Stefanova for exposing on an international level the deficiencies of the Maltese cultural establishment!

First and foremost on her list was the lack of contemporaneity in Maltese culture. Words like 'premiere' or 'recent commission' feature rarely in the Maltese cultural calendar, if at all. And when they do feature they are little more than light entertainment pieces aimed to please the audience rather than involve it. Although not all art should be serious it should always make people think. Even such great comic masterpieces as Mozart's Le Nozze di Figaro or Verdi's Falstaff all embody a philosophy that is relevant to human experience which transcends geographical or temporal boundaries.

Then came the sensitive area of criticism. In Malta there is no such thing as a professional critic, and most of the critics are merely musical amateurs who judge a performance not by its merits but by personal taste and alliances. Any criticism of 'accepted' performers is viewed as a betrayal of the Mafia-like circle of the musical elite. Many Maltese performers have as yet to learn that criticism should be used for self-improvement and not viewed as an attack on personal capabilities. On the other hand, critics should be constructive in their criticism, justify it and where possible offer an alternative.

Dr Stefanova then went on to highlight problems as costs, poor audiences and media coverage of the arts. Unfortunately, everything depends on each other. Thus, poor and misdirected criticism will repel any potential audiences, which means any financial gain from performances is unlikely, which ultimately results in fewer productions and of poorer quality.

The saddest thing about the article is that she believes that we have the potential for growth. She praises the students she met at the Theatre Studies Department and sees in them the possibility 'to become good critics'.

If Dr. Stefanova from Bulgaria believes in us as a nation, why can't WE believe in ourselves???

National Identity and Maltese Music

2005-04-11T23:38:00.000+02:00

Where does one start? I shall attempt first of all to define Maltese music in terms of purely artistic merits rather than geographical terms. Maltese music is music which is created by Maltese musicians in order to express a fundamentally (though not exclusively) Maltese artistic approach. Now that I have defined it in suitably pompous academic terms, I will explain what it means. Maltese music should express issues relevant to the artist and his environment. This is not to say that it should necessarily be patriotic or sentimental, but it should relate to the climate around it.

I shall tackle mainly the area of Classical Music, mainly because it is the area which is directly relevant to me. Whatever Maltese classical music exists at the moment is being treated simply as museum or souvenir pieces. Older repertoire (e.g. Vassallo, Nani, Isouard, etc) is played not on its artistic merit but simply as a necessity. It is tamed down by academicism, and played for its musicological value rather than for its artistic value. More contemporary repertoire fares only slightly better. Despite a multitude of pieces (written by the likes of Vella, Galea and Camilleri) which draw on Maltese culture and history, they rarely go further than being clichéd character pieces. Take for example Camilleri’s Malta Suite. It is a set of stylised dances and tunes which in spite of being Maltese in character are not authentically Maltese. So far, so good, but it is regarded as the Maltese piece par excellence! It is indeed pitiful that out of Camilleri’s output, which is large and varied, such an early and musically weak piece should be selected. Far worse than this is the claim made by people like Olivia Dow that they create Maltese music. Her ‘Maltese ballets’ are nothing more than a hotchpotch of clichés taken from a Pan-European tradition which is completely alien to Maltese culture. It is useless to set a play in the Ggantija temples and then throw in fairies and flowers dressed in garishly

One of the main failures of contemporary Maltese music is its relevance to the world around it. Of the few pieces that deal with contemporary issues, and here Camilleri’s The Rape of Mnajdra comes to mind, they are simply a reaction to reality and not a cry for change or improvement. By robbing music of its communicative quality it is rendered to nothing more than background music, intended simply as a backdrop and not to be noticed. With so many issues facing Maltese culture nowadays we need an art that communicates. Art has the power to address issues in a way which is beyond the reach of mere words. It can also transform local issues into universal ones. We must have a Maltese musical culture which goes beyond parochial politics and question present ideologies rather than comply with them.

There is, however, a greater problem facing Maltese music, i.e. where it will be performed. Most artistic establishments in Malta are controlled by an elite group whose only interest in life is self-gratification. These establishments are hostile to anything new which would question the status quo, well aware that if things change they would be the first to get the chop. At the top of this hierarchy is the Manoel Theatre, whose endeavours towards Maltese music are almost non-existent. If it is indeed a ‘National Theatre’ it should commission new music on a regular basis, especially in terms of operas and incidental music. Then we have the Orkestra Nazzjonali, Malta’s ONLY full-time orchestra. Whatever Maltese music is programmed by the ON is usually limited to Camilleri’s Malta Suite, Vella’s Ir-Rebbieha or some obscure 19th century drudgery. Again, why is our national orchestra not commissioning new works for regular programming and not as showcase trophies for special occasions? Next in line come the multitude of smaller venues which host regular musical activities. The St James Centre for Creativity is the only institution which supports Maltese music even though it is desperately short of funds. It always welcomes young musicians and encourages Maltese music. This is simply done by not hindering it, a situation which is sadly not the case with the previous ones. Otherwise, we are left with such elitist pretensions as the Casino Maltese, reserved exclusively for the Maltese nobility, an aristocracy based on wealth rather than talent. Somehow, they seem to forget the word ‘Maltese’ and dwell at length on ‘Casino’, to which I say that Art is not a game or an artefact up for auction, but a living creature bound by no convention. Otherwise, all music making outside these institutions is done on an individual basis. There are plenty of other institutions who should contribute to Maltese music but for various reasons, including financial ones, do not do so. One such establishment is the Malta Society for Arts, Manufacture and Commerce, who have a good performance space available in their office building (the Palazzo de la Salle in Valletta).

The fundamental problem when it comes to Maltese culture, including music, is the attitude of the population towards it. We have been conditioned by centuries of colonialism into believing that we are culturally inferior to the rest of the world. This has led to two extreme approaches; either than of megalomaniac superiority or self-destructive apathy. In the case of the former one finds such fiascos as the grandly termed BOV International Opera Festival, or the conveniently forgotten musical 1565. The latter is then characterised by a subservient admiration towards anything foreign, regardless of quality. One has only to check the Sunday papers to see how foreign artists are always praised to the skies regardless of the level of performance. If Maltese music is to survive we must have a confident approach to it, and not attempt anything grandiose before the roots are firmly planted.

There is no sign of change from the upper echelons of the Maltese intelligentsia and it is thus in the hands of the younger generation to promote change. Perhaps, some of the older Maltese musicians will also find the courage to express their grievances, and who have, until now, failed to react for fear of exclusion. Who knows, maybe the unthinkable will happen, and present institutions will change their policies immediately and start promoting Maltese culture! And to be even more daring, maybe we will have a Culture minister who is actually interested in Art and who does not use it for self-glorification. But enough dreaming…change will not happen on its own, and I’m very willing to give it a wee push!

1001 Malta Nights: #2 The Weegie Adventuwe

2005-04-11T06:53:00.000+02:00

I can't believe I ate so much food! We had another Maltese night at S in Weegie Land. Naturally, it got extended into a Maltese Day and then into a Maltese Weekend! How is it physically possible for 7 people to devour enough food for 20 people in half the time is beyond me. That is not to say we spent all our time eating. Far from it! We managed to fit in drinks, board games and heated arguments, though I must say that the combination of food and arguments is not a happy one.

There is something heroic in spending 2 days in a flat, with the same 6 people, without television, radio or internet, and doing nothing but eating and talking. It felt like one of those weekends in Gozo, where all you do is eat, sleep and eat some more :-). It also reminded me why I miss Malta so much...not just the food and good company, but the way people think. If there is one virtue which Maltese people have, it's their passion towards life. Unfortunately, if they see their passion rendered futile, they will descend into apathy and sheepish compliance. If only our so called politicians tapped into our full potential and put it to good use!

Many of us at the Maltese Night were artists of some sort, and those who were not were very interested in art. I was surprised to see how we all wanted to go back to work in Malta at some stage in our lives, and to improve the situation back home. There was a general sense of betrayal, a feeling that we have a right to our homeland. Also, there was a sense of frustration when seeing the way things are being run in Malta, and by who! Personally, I find the provincialism and parochialism of Maltese politics and its bearing on culture, unbearable and unforgivable. However, it is easy to sit and criticise. What I am trying to find, and I am sure I'm not alone in this, is a way to constructively change the status quo. It would be foolish to pursue an eradication of the past, for it will not lead to anything fruitful. One must build on the past and improve upon it.

Well, I do not know how useful 2 days in a Glasgow flat eating and chatting can be, but it was bloody good fun! We are already planning another Maltese Night in May...in the meantime we will prepare ourselves with several Maltese Nights Out! ;-)

Random Thoughts II

2005-04-07T10:25:00.000+02:00

Finally!! My blog is up and running again! I haven't updated it for AAAAGGEESSSS! Mostly because I'm in Malta for Easter holidays and been out and about all the time!

Tonight is my last night in Malta before I go back to Edinburgh. Feels strange...I will miss a lot over here...family, friends, boyfriend...ahh boyfriend! :-)))) but I shall not go into that tonight! :-) Let me just say that I will miss him a lot!!

It's weird having to switch lifestyle completely overnight. Personally, I prefer being force-fed by my mother, being driven around by my father, entertained by my friends and...:-)))

I had a rather morbid thought the other day as I was running some errands. I was walking in through Birkirkara winding my way from street to street. Each street reminded me of something or someone, whether dead or alive. I felt small and insignificant. Then it occurred to me...I will die young. I don't believe I will ever reach 40 or 50. Strangely enough, the thought does not frighten me. All I want is to live my life to the full, to touch people's lives in a positive way. Maybe if I come face to face with Death I wouldn't be so cheery about it...but then again maybe I have.

Ama Cher - A tragic opera in 3 Acts

2005-03-23T20:04:00.000+01:00

Finally found time to update my blog! Been in Malta for almost a week, and suffering from what T calls 'entertainment burnout'...well I intend to keep burning myself out until my ashes turn to gas!

The Opera: Act I - Juliette falls in love and screaches her head off

Given the circumstances, the opera turned out not such a disappointment (it wasn't brilliant either). One had to admire the valiant effort made by hte orchestra and singers. Van der Plas and Vaduva (the two replacements for Calleja and Lisnic) were a mixed bag. The former tended to sound as if he were constantly changing gear while singing, and at certain points one could notce that he had accidentally hit reverse gear. Vaduva was marginally better, with some impressively screechy notes in the top register...well actually there was no bottom register to start with! Also, Juliette is meant to be a graceful naive 20yr old virgin not a 50yr old grand dame who fondled Romeo in such a manner that one doubted her inexperience on that front. Of course, I am referring to the acting not to anything directly related to the singers personally. However, one could ont fail to notice the over-the-top qualities of the little acting there was. Well, it was to be expected after the director resigned...oh yes, and no-one has taken responsiblity for it yet...

The rest of the cast, save Massimiliano Valleggi who was a fine Mercutio, was Maltese. I was impressed by the overall quality of the Maltese cast who far outshone the two soloists. Particularly fine was Gillian Zammit, who not only looked stunning in her dress (even though her role was a male one!!) but also matched her looks with a superb vocal technique and clear diction. Claire Massa, Charles Vincenti and Noel Galea were all technically secure and sang with musicality. Less successful were the minor roles. Albert Butigieg still had a somewhat shaky technique and was not always on the ball, but that is not to say that he was not good. His main setback was mainly due to the casting of his daughter Juliete. As her father it must have been quite disturbing to try and caress someone some 25 years older than him! Kevin Caruana had lots of confidence but little by way of musicality, while Mangion was competent but not entirely secure (although with the amount of mishaps that affected this opera, its a wonder that anyone was secure!) Lia and Vella Bondin needed more confidence as they tended to move about the stage without any clear idea of what was happening.

The Chorus. (Have you seen the recent French film of that name? do so, very sweet!...ANYWAYS....) The Chorus. It was, and here I am being very kind, C.R.A.P. Notes all over the place, everyone doing different dynamics and phrasing, no diction whatsoever, no stage presence, no discipline. The chorus, or the Malta Chorale as it has been grandly termed, was not disappointing, it was disgustingly unprofessional. The orchestra, under Laus, was impressive. Laus' efforts are commendable given the circumstances. Also, I realised that as a conductor he can pull it off successfully and there were some genuinely beautiful moments.

Oh, and as a postscript, you might be interested to know that during the Friday performance, Mr TCD insisted on talking all the way throughout the performance....but I'm sure he was translating the French for us....very commendable.

Act II - The Secret Marriage of Failure and Incompetence

On Tuesday I had the (mis)fortune of attending rehearsals for the other opera in the festival, Cimarosa's Il Matrimonio segreto, with singers from the Operalaboratorio of Palermo. To put it succintly, it was awful. The singers, who are in reality students not seasoned singers fit for an 'International' Festival, were mostly poor. The only decent one was the baritone Ugo (whose surname I forgot..I'll look it up though). The three female soloists sounded like Alvin and the Chipmunks, while the two male servants, in their ill-fitting costumes, looked like Tweedle-Dum and Tweedle-Dee. The singing...figure skating on musical pitches; I never knew you could fit so many pitches in an octave. The set consisted of six light blue doors arranged in a semicircle which looked like a set for Bluebeard's Castle gone horribly wrong. The costumes made them look like highly ornate wedding cakes. The orchestra, again under Laus, strode valiantly on as the music went from one aria to the next.

Such a production is definitely unfit for an International Festival, and can in reality only be marketed as a student production and nothing more. BUT. There is always a but. The choice of production is extremely logical. The student singers do not get paid for their services, which saves money. The sets are brought from Sicily, which saves money. The director is in reality the singing coach, which saves money. The orchestra involved is small which saves money. The production is a flop, which loses money. The festival is a failure, which loses audiences. And the Manoel management is not held accountable...

Act III - The Tragedy

If there is no money and no resources, why oh why do they try to mount a festival invovling the most expensive cultural event ever?????? Well, perhaps it proves to show that grandiosity and pomposity are the hallmarks of amateurism.

The Maltese Exodus

2005-03-17T22:11:00.000+01:00

I feel like I've just beenrun over by a bus! Tonight going back to Malta for Easter! woohooo! Hope I recover from last night though, coz the prospect of a four-hour flight is not altogether that appealing just now!

It was only till this morning that it suddenly hit me that I'm going home. It's always a mixed feeling. On one side I love the place and the people. I've got an amazing group of friends who have always been supportive and encouraging. Also, the place is a continuous source of inspiration for me. It's not just the sights and sounds, but the spirit of it.

On the other hand, the attitude of the Maltese pisses me off. There are those who are in power and do fuck-all. They approach everything with arrogance, and use their position as a means for self-aggrandisement. Unfortunately, these are the oneswho get elected into Parlaiment, or get all the top jobs. Then the rest of the population is stricken by the deepest apathy. People have given up. They can no longer take goverment seriously but at the same timecan't be bothered to try and make a change.

Maybe I'm being too much ofa dreamer, but I do believe that change is possible, and that in order to achieve it existing institutions have to be challenged. I do believe that the pen is mightier than the sword, and that Art can bring about change.

I used to think I'm alone in thinking this, but there are hundreds of others who like me are abroad and feel rejected by their country. Some people accuse us of being snobs and too critical, but these are usually those who do not want to see change for it would expose their utter incompetence and stupidity. Whether we settle down in Malta or not we will always suffer from an intellectual exile unless the present attitude towards culture changes.

Mediterranean Night...What a Great Place to come from! :-)

2005-03-14T06:05:00.000+01:00

It's been a weird and wonderful weekend!

Last Friday had a Mediterranean Party at T's. In typical T fashion, he told me about it a few hours before. Then he realised he hadn't prepared any food, and he was expecting some 15 people! So in comes super-gedudu to the rescue!!! We went shoppin together and bought among other things sundried tomatoes from M & S (delicciciiiiouuuuuuuooouuss) and some 4 bottles of wine for sangria. We were then joined by V, and we turned T's kitchen into a Michelin 5-star Mediterranean kitchen! :-)

The Mediterranean night turned out into a Maltese night with supporting acts heheh. There was a group of Maltese medics who were in Edinburgh for a week, then the usual Maltese crowd, an italian girl, 2 greeks, and d rest i dont remember! There were also 2 orientals, and when V saw them, she turned on me, and in a not-so-soft voice asked me, 'Isn't this supposed to be a Mediterranean night?' hehehehe....and V scores another victory for Mediterranean diplomacy ehehh

Anyway, the night turned out to be absolutely amazin. The wine seemed to evaporate into our bodies...the sangria was divine!! The Maltese contingent held out longest, and we went out dancing afterwards. Only me, T and L-A were left by the end of the evening, and I crashed at T's place.

Now is the philosophical part you have ALLL been waiting for!! :-)....well, ok, you havent been waiting for it, but anyway here it goes!

Actually, no deep thoughts for today. just an observation: dunno y, but I love Mediterranean people. We are loud, passionate, somewhat insane, but at the end of the day, great fun!

Random Thoughts I

2005-03-10T00:36:00.000+01:00

More assignments on the way! What great fun!!!!! NOT!!!!

Actually, had a very enjoyable Keyboard Accompaniment Class. We looked at Schumann's first song from Dichterliebe: 'In wunder schonat monat Mai'...absolutely wonderful song, whose accompaniment I managed to fuck up! heheh The amount of detail in this short song and the things you can do with it! Marvellous! :-)

Just read T's proposal for thesis. He's doin it on cultural identity, mainly using it as prime material for performance. The thesis will involve an actual performance to which I'm going to supply the music! :-)) Lookin forward to it!

So many things going on in my life just now!!!! Too many in fact!!! But i'm greedy eheheh

This week I'm just drowning in opera rehearsals! Singers are really high-maintenance! :-S And got Shostakovich essay to finish! It's a mammoth task, but it's absolutely fascinating! More on that another time tho!

Turning the Pages...

2005-03-08T05:06:00.000+01:00

It's been a weird weekend! Last night had to page-turn for a couple of friends at H McG's celebrated musical soirees. Basically, this multi-millionaire who gets up-coming musicians from uni to perform so as to increase his social prestige. At least, we're gettin some money off d guy! V even had to go through the excruciating ordeal of having to accompany him in a 2-piano version of Gershwin's Porgy and Bess. I admire her, she did a good job. I don't know how she managed to keep everything together, as he was all over the place! He had no sense of pulse, and every tempo change was preceded by a very obvious pause. It was hilarious! I almost burst out laughing on stage, and the sight of Gi laughing her head off at the back of the room wasn't helping a lot!

After the concert we all had to 'socialise', so like actors on cue, we all proceeded into the lounge where the audience was mingling. The audience consisted of a herd of very rich oldies who have absolutely no idea what life is all about. Not only were most of them completely ignorant of music, but they were awfully patronising.

After that went to Scrubways for a birthday party, but before that made a detour to H's flat. We had peach schnapps lemonade and a wee chat...

Well, if you read my previous blog you can see I wasn't in the best of moods this weekend. But last night, I felt suddenly, well 'touched' (time to get sentimental here...put on Barber Adagio plz ;-). H, K, Irish J and me were talkin, usual uni stuff and stress counselling, when H suddenly brought up my opera. All three passed very nice genuine remarks, and i suddenly felt worthed. At least, someone's liking it enough to speak about it! :-)

so on that happy note, I'll bugger offf!!

The Woodsman followed by other thoughts

2005-03-06T08:51:00.000+01:00

Just back home from cinema. Watched 'The woodsman', a film starrin Kevin Bacon about a paedophile who is released on parole...I won't/can't say anything more. I was expecting something predictable and dull, but it's a very interesting film, with lots of food for thought. To attempt to describe it will spoil the film. Suffice it to say, that I did not even go through one fourth of my goodie bag while watchin (most of it eaten during those highly irritating Orange phone adverts).

It's been a strange day. The events mentioned in the last few blogs have been bugging me. Sometimes I feel like giving up: giving up everything...this lifestyle, my music, my dreams...but something keeps me going. They say that giving birth is an experience men will never go through, but when I'm working on a piece I get the same feeling. The long periods of gestation, the pain as it is slowly let out, the joys and sorrows of seeing it grow and develop. To stop composing is for me the intellectual equivalent of abortion.

Truth is: I am afraid. Afraid of failing, not only myself but others as well. I am afraid of not having the courage to follow my dreams. I am afraid of fighting alone. And yet, for all my friends and family and acquaintances, I have always felt alone. The worst part of loneliness is when one recognises it.

Some people love me, some like and some hate me. Some are indifferent to me, and that is what hurts most. But I console myself with this thought:

The more I know people, the more I observe them, the more I realise how lonely we all are. Everyone, including me, has become so obsessed with finding ourselves that at times we forget everything else around us. It is very easy to make friends these days, but to lose them is even easier. I have lost many friends, and often I was to blame. I have learnt that people change, that my perceptions of people change, and that there is no such thing as a complete person. Indeed there is no such thing as a complete me. I have to many phobias to be complete.

Maybe that's why I compose, to be complete.

Accidents and No Accidents

2005-03-05T21:28:00.000+01:00

New Info:

The opera is to b unstaged...ie in concert version. :-(((

This of course leaves a couple of questions still:

1. What SAFETY measures were taken during rehearsals to prevent accidents? no masks were used.

2. Why is such an accident preventing the staging of the work?

The Director for d opera has actually left, after his demands were not met. He had ordered props to be ready in November, and these props still haven't materialised. Also, rehearsals have been difficult and strained, with rehearsal times limited (same reason why Brian Schembri left).

WHO IS GOING TO TAKE RESPONASIBILTY FOR THE DIRECTOR'S RESIGNATION?

ARE WE GETTING TICKET REFUNDS/DISCOUNT TO MAKE UP FOR CHANGES?

It's time people are made accountable for their actions, especially when it's something to do with public funds...

Tony Cassar Darien! Quo Vadis?

2005-03-05T02:15:00.000+01:00

DISCLAIMER: This blog is: 1. an opinion piece, NOT reportage; 2. in no way do I imply that the events recounted happened WILFULLY but that it was the result of bad management and could have been avoided. 3. although the story comes from what I regard as very reliable resources, they are UNOFFICIAL resources nonetheless and are thus prone to inaccuracies. 4. I am more than happy to edit my blog should other resources throw more/different light on the matter. thank you.

It's unbelievable! The stupidness and incompetence in Malta sometimes reaches astronomical proportions!! This story I found out from EXTREMELY reliable sources!!

16th & 18th of March as part of the BOV opera festival (which comprises of two operas, with 2 performances each...sad) there will be Joseph Calleja in Gounod's Romeo et Juliette. Without going into the various intrigues that have struck this opera (including Brian Schembri pulling out over rehearsal times!), we arrive straight away to the cherry on this lyric cake!

The opera is meant to involve a swordfight. Unfortunately, opera singers are not really trained for swordfights (they use much deadlier weapons, like vibrato, high notes and melodrama). During a rehearsal one of a swordfights, one blow missed its aim sending a baritone straight to hospital. He is now in the Intensive Care Unit with a sword blow through his nose.

The doctor who was called when the incident happened left in a fury, rightfully pissed off over the lack of safety and common sense. The unfortunate guy who struck the blow is now under shock and probably wont sing. To make matters worse, the director threatens to pull out. The result: a CONCERT performance of an opera!

It's time these things are made more public, for people should know how national assets are being managed (or rather mis-managed). Also,incidents like these seriously dent our reputation in the international sphere. We should be proud of who we are, and anyone who denies us the right to be Maltese should not be allowed to take any position of national importance.

Damn! Damn, damn, damn!

2005-03-02T21:13:00.000+01:00

DAMN! damn! damn! damn! Not only is Shostakovich becoming more complex as I read, but I can't find the scores I need! Such a bloody waste of time! I would have been better off with Maths. At least 1+1 is always 2.

Speakin of which, woz thinkin last night as i woz cookin, whta would happen if 1+1=3...d upheaval such a thing would create would be unimmaginable. It would destroy all that civilisation is built upon...mental note: do not think on an empty stomach.

And this leads us on to another crucial topic: LUNCH. Should I endure the miserable floating veggies and stale meat served at the Refectory (being the only food outlet on campus) or should I go home and indulge in some quality cooking? The latter would mean missing a lecture...choices damn! damn! damn! damn!

Snow, Opera & a Question Mark

2005-03-01T20:24:00.000+01:00

God! It's snowing again! Do they know it's march in this country?

I'm at the library (for a change), workin on Shostakovich's 4th & 5th Symphonies. I need some sort of miracle to finish this in two weeks...perhaps less time online might help hehe.

The amount of work this year is unbelievable! Worst of all, my composing is taking second place, a situation which I hate! There are so many things I want (and need) to work on! Thank God, I've finished my chamber opera...operas are tough nuts to crack man! It may not be a masterpiece of the operatic genre, buthey it's my first attempt.

It is a conceptual (*shudder*) piece. It's called 'Four Characters in a Row'. Four ppl are sitting in a row, facing the audience, and waiting for something to happen. Who are they? Why are they there? Who are we? Why are WE there? My opera is not about answers, it's about questions. I firmly believe we live to ask questions, in the hope that in Death we find an answer.

Speaking of questions, one is constantly bugging me lately...'How am I gonna manage everything on time?'

Like all well-constructed intelligent questions, it has no answer.

Prelude à l'après midi d'un faune

2005-02-28T19:43:00.000+01:00

Yes! I have finally succumbed to blog mania! Reasons? many! 1. Peer pressure. 2. An excuse to waste time while workin. 3. Because I believe self-expression is important...let's face it the net is not the root of all evils; it's just such a fertile ground that weeds as well as seeds thrive.

What shall my blog be about? Me? Not really. More likely the world around me, for I cannot define myself without putting myself into context, and since that context is constantly changing, so is my perception of myself.

I hope that this blog will not turn out in a philosophy paper for, even though I have my serious side, I also have a humorous side, a lazy side, a self-conscious side, a downright blonde side, etc...u get my drift!