Jekk trid taqra verżjoni ta’ dan l-artiklu bil-Malti, agħfas hawn
Every now and then politicians and policy makers dream up of a new buzzword – a word that embodies a ‘new’ way of thinking. About 20 odd years ago ‘creative economy’ was the new kid on the block – humans are creative, and therefore creativity is a prized attribute to have. Artists, not bankers or lawyers, will drive the future economy, and if bankers and lawyers want to progress they need to start thinking creatively. Predictably, that ideology soon started showing signs of weakness: what does ‘creativity’ mean? Can all that is ‘creative’ be lumped under one generic term? And what if you are not creative? Are you mere fodder for this new creative economy? So more words were needed to explain, and dissect, and repurpose this ideology. Legacy, is one of them.
It might seem an innocuous term. Legacy, after all, is simply what we leave behind – what we pass on to future generations. It is an important word, but words are meaningless without ideas, and a word such as ‘legacy’ begs an important question: a legacy of what? And for whom?
And here is where the trouble starts. Politicians and policy makers are fond of ‘legacies’. It legitimises their position. It is one of the prime motivators behind many grandiose projects, from the pyramids to Trump’s wall. Every ruler is keen to have his memory preserved in some way or another – in short to leave a legacy. But this is where most fail – and what distinguishes greatness from mediocrity.
There were many ways with which Grand Master De Valette could have immortalised himself: a victory monument, a grand palace, a church, a great work of art in a church, etc. But he chose an idea instead: a new city. Some might argue that in itself Valletta was the product of a megalomaniac victorious general, but in reality plans for a fortified settlement on Xebb-er-Ras predated De Valette’s magistracy. His decision to forge ahead with the plans was momentous because it sealed the Order’s fate for the following 150 years. They were here to stay, and they were prepared defend their values to the death. So De Valette’s legacy is not an architectural one (indeed very little of the original fabric of the city remains), but an idea that has marked our national narrative ever since.
And this is precisely where Valletta 2018 has failed – it was not a project of ideas but of things. People can criticise the cultural programme as much as they like, but if we had to measure it with statistics (something which politicians and policy makers love to do), it was to all intents and purposes a success. The architectural fabric of the city has improved – most public monuments have had a makeover, St George’s Square is no longer a parking lot, City Gate no longer smells like a latrine, and most of the encircling fortifications have been cleaned and restored. To that one can add a jam-packed cultural programme – pretty much anyone who sneezed in 2018 got endorsed by Valletta 2018. So as statistics go, it was impressive.
And yet…
By December 2018 the country was tired of it all. Even the die-hard supporters had that weary ‘please make it stop’ look on their faces. If you need proof, compare the crowds and media coverage given to the opening, and the lacklustre closing ceremony. So what happened?
It would be unfair and incorrect to lay the blame entirely on Valletta 2018. The fatigue is not even simply national – it is the 21st century zeitgeist. We live on an ailing planet, in economically unequal societies, and redundant political systems. Instead of rising up to the challenges we have created, most of us have retreated into backward looking political and religious fantasies. And that is where Valletta 2018 has failed – it has failed to challenge anything at all. True, some small parts of it have addressed our contemporary challenges (like the fantastic projects Ġewwa Barra and Altofest), but these were sidelined in favour of pointless PR exercises like the Pageant of the Seas and Il-Festa l-Kbira.
Il-Festa l-Kbira: A missed opportunity…
Let us take the latter as an example. Those who know me, know well enough how much of a festa-freak I am. To put it in a nutshell: I believe that festas, organised by communities operating on a voluntary basis, are one of the last frontiers against the current dehumanising politic of algorithms and statistics. Festas have no place in the individualist economy that we are pursuing. Il-Festa l-Kbira, with all its good intentions, had neither context nor narrative, save for the Valletta communities who were involved in it.
No-one bothered to understand to, let alone explain to the outside world, what shapes these communities. At no point did the event celebrate the political importance of the two Valletta band clubs, founded in 1874 at a time when the struggle for Maltese independence was starting to gain momentum. Neither did it highlight the wildly different demographics that shape Valletta’s parishes, or the contemporary struggles facing these disappearing communities. What it boiled down to was ultimately four statues meeting at St George’s Square for a short ceremony, then all the way to City Gate where nothing really happened, and back again.
But on paper it looks impressive: for the first time the four different festas were celebrated together, and hundreds of people attended. The Valletta communities were also justly proud. But once the festa ended, most participants went back home outside of Valletta because they can no longer afford to live in their own city. Nor can they roam their own city like they used to, as more and more streets are taken over by catering establishments who are positively hostile to anything that disrupts their business. Their children have to attend a school outside of the city, and their elderly have to reside in care homes far away. Few are the youth oriented organisations that still function in the city, and fewer still are the spaces where they can hang out or play football.
The Valletta Market – a Temple of corporate greed
Slowly, but surely, Valletta is turning into one giant dystopian theme park, full of wonderful buildings that have become mausoleums for its inhabitants. The few remaining Beltin have now become a political inconvenient – an obstacle to progress. Valletta 2018 was merely the brand launch for a commodity. The Valletta Market is but the High Temple of this violent gentrification – a monument to corporate greed and political opportunism. Culture has also started to fade from the City – MUŻA, for all its potential, is an incomplete and incoherent mess, and the Valletta Design Cluster is as yet unfinished. And by the time either of them is ready, more and more Beltin will have been forced out of the city, unless drastic action is taken.
That means unpopular decisions such as reducing cars in the city and giving back streets to the public, controlling the property market, limiting the number of hotels and catering establishments, incentivising small businesses, creating a proper public mobility infrastructure, etc etc. But such decisions would then have to be taken all over Malta, and that would mean treading on some very rich toes indeed. Because people do not matter any more – money does.
The grandest failure of the creative economy lies in the quantification of creative output. Art is no longer a subjective parameter (what moves you, or what appeals to you), but a very definable quantity that can be measured and speculated upon. Of course, art and culture has always had a price, but it also had a value beyond the monetary value. You could put a price tag on Caravaggio’s Beheading of St John, but you cannot quantify the feeling of entering the small Oratory, looking up and finding yourself in the midst of the tragic execution of the prophet. On the other hand, walk into the Valletta Market and it’s like walking into any airport departure lounge food court. It is over-priced fast food parading itself as a gourmet dining experience.
Time will pass and our descendants (provided we haven’t destroyed the planet by then) will look at our epoch with disdain and regret. They will look at how we have replaced ideas with things, and judge us harshly for it. They will be angry with us for the heritage we destroyed, and the narratives we buried. A hundred years from now Valletta will still be there – proud and beautiful…and bereft of ideas and its people.
MużiKartI 