Thursday 8 February 2018

Is public art fair game?

Two things have got me thinking about the role of public monuments in the everyday lives of citizens. The first is the impromptu memorial to Daphne Caruana Galizia, whose horrendous murder over four months ago has fuelled the divisive bitterness of Maltese politics. The second is the  installation project funded by Valletta 2018 that draws on Maltese sayings to inspire quirky statues around the streets and squares.

Malta has long held a tradition of roadside memorials and street niches that are established and maintained by local people. My friend, Olive Allison, in her excellent book, Streets of Valletta, describes in detail most of these memorial sites found on a walk around our capital city. Olive is currently updating her book in response to the enormous changes in our streets and squares, fuelled in large part by processes set in train by Valletta 2018.

The impromptu memorial to Daphne Caruana Galizia, investigative journalist and editor of glossy style magazines, has some of the characteristics of these roadside memorials but also differs in that the collection of posters, candles and flowers has come to represent a social movement calling for change in the way Malta is governed. The location of the memorial, at the foot of the Great Siege Monument with the three allegorical figures of Faith, Valour and Civilisation, and opposite the Law Courts, is particularly supportive of the demand for justice, rule of law and good governance that is the legacy of Daphne's murder. The memorial is also a constant reminder of the subsequent failure of government to act swiftly and openly in uncovering the threads of corruption, money laundering and shady deals that appear to be linked to her assassination. The collection of candles and flowers has grown steadily in inverse proportion to the paucity of evidence in the investigation. It has also attracted criticism on the grounds that it detracts from Malta's reputation and defaces a National monument. An older woman in a red coat attempted unilaterally to dismantle the memorial, and powerful men have asserted that candles and flowers vandalise our heritage. The memorial remains resolutely in place and there is now an on-line survey seeking public support for a permanent memorial to Daphne to be erected in the same square or elsewhere. Opinion appears to be fairly evenly divided. My own leaning is that focussing on the erection of a permanent monument at this stage is a distraction from the central issues of systemic corruption and good governance.

Public monuments are often used to promote particular issues or causes, here in Malta as elsewhere. A few years ago, ZiguZjag, our splendid annual children's festival, challenged the gatekeepers of culture by dressing the new statue of the founder of our Capital City, La Vallette, in a colourful, modern costume. The statue, a recent addition funded by a local bank, is boring, dominates the square and was enlivened by an overlay of childish exuberance. Nevertheless, several Maltese dignitaries were outraged. More recently, the dressing of several monuments in the T-shirts of Occupy Justice, the women's organisation that has been pivotal in the upsurge of protest since the death of Daphne Caruana Galizia, drew condemnation from politicians and cultural organisations on the grounds of vandalism.

So what happens when Valletta 2018 commissions an artist to create temporary public monuments that celebrate the quirkiness of Maltese language sayings? Over the weekend, white plaster statues popped up on the streets and squares of Upper Valletta. A slender, white figure with a prickly pear for a head looks at his watch next to the ancient Knights' water trough behind St James Cavalier. The viewer is reminded that time ripens the prickly pear. A clutch of chicks hatches out next to Daphne's memorial reminding us not to count our chickens. A thinker sits on a pile of round breads next to the statue of Manuel Dimech and announces that the man who goes to bed hungry dreams of bread. The outrage from the usual suspects about tackiness and the wasting of public funds was countered by the number of Maltese families who laughed in delight, took photos of their children sitting in the eggshells and examined with pride the small plaques describing the Maltese sayings represented. But before the weekend was out, tails, ears and horns were broken off cats and cows, and holes were punched into the bottoms of bending human figures. Jason Micallef from Valletta 18 was quick and correct to denounce the vandalism. Only five days after they were erected, the statues have been removed for repair.

Perhaps the repaired statues will re-appear in different venues around Malta. But the impermanence of these visual representations of traditional folk sayings has already generated discussion, delight and controversy. Turning them into permanent monuments would add nothing.