Nikki Petroni
I was recently invited by the curator of Palazzo Falson in Mdina, Francesca Balzan, to explore the museum's uncharted archives of which the digital catalogue is now nearing completion. It had never crossed my mind to visit Palazzo Falson for research purposes, presumably due to the fact that the archive is a novel addition to Malta's abundant wealth of publicly available historical sources. So when Francesca and I sat down together to search through the plenteous catalogue, I was pleasantly surprised as to the nature of the available material.
Palazzo Falson, which is one of the cultural collaborators of the Mdina Biennale, was the opulent abode of Captain Olof Frederick Gollcher (1889-1962), an avid collector of objets d'art and any form of historical material which attracted his discerning eye. The richness of his collection, from pipes to watches, maps, paintings and furniture, as well as the extent of letters, documents and writings found in the archive, is visually and palpably compelling. His attention to decorative detail recalled a chapter in Oscar Wilde's Picture of Dorian Gray wherein the eponymous character revels in the sensuous beauty of the world's material wealth. Gollcher was likewise a lover of magnificent objects, and seemingly also a stimulating personality, a muse to the literary hand.
However, unlike Dorian Gray, Gollcher's ego surpassed the exultation of his own possessions and delight in his own image. He was directly involved in the preservation of Malta's cultural heritage, especially during the 1930s and 40s. He sat on several committees including the Aesthetics Board and kept in continuous contact with members of the British Administration, most notably with the learned Lt. Governor Sir Harry Luke with whom he developed a personal friendship. Gollcher would run around Malta's towns and villages to carry out reports on restoration works required to churches, chapels and traditional buildings and then urge the government to give financial priority to the necessary works. More significant, however, was Gollcher's genuine love for Malta's artistic and architectural culture. He was passionately invested in his work, and matters of remuneration were of secondary importance. In his official and personal letters one senses his anxiety for things to proceed efficiently due to its importance for Malta's international image.
Most resounding was his quasi-desperate call for cultural awareness in Malta, which brings me to the topic of this article. Gollcher writes repeatedly on the damaging political interests lodged in the running of the cultural sector, and the insular thinking which blinded the opportunity for improvement to cultural sites and museums. He cites models from other European countries to which Malta could aspire, but ostensibly all for nought. The crucial need for increased funding in the arts which he stresses upon perennially is something with which Malta is still struggling today. Gollcher comments on the 'lamentable' state of the art museum where "all our artistic patrimony is rotting for lack of funds". This, as rightly stated by Gollcher, is a form of vandalism, a deplorable situation which undermines the value of Malta's entire civilization. It is thanks to the admirable curators of the former Fine Arts Section of the Valletta Museum, which later developed into a separate entity as the National Museum of Fine Arts, such as Vincenzo Bonello, Fr. Marius Zerafa, Dominic Cutajar and Dennis Vella, that the museum was saved from physical and cultural degeneration. They all succeeded in running an art museum with very little resources due to their fervent devotion and foresight.
Unfortunately, I cannot say that the situation is much improved in the 21st century. Gollcher's distressing words sound all too familiar. As he himself points out, "...there is a lot to be done and the whole country needs raking over, though it is unfortunate that with the artistic and architectural knowledge not very abundant here it is impossible to find collaborators. Culture is to be established here." The root of the problem lies in the way the Maltese engage with and understand their cultural past. This is continuously brought to the fore by several of those involved in the arts scene, especially by Dr. Giuseppe Schembri Bonaci, Senior Lecturer in the Department of History of Art at the University of Malta, who often elucidates the need for change in the general attitude towards the arts and also provides solutions for how to effectuate such change.
Finding plausible and attainable solutions to such an evidently long-standing lacuna in the Maltese education system is a challenging endeavour. However, the first essential step is the careful selection of appointments. The choosing of decision-makers who are experts in their field and also dedicated enough to disregard bureaucracy sounds like the most logical primary step for culture to be managed properly. To reiterate Gollcher's and Dr. Schembri Bonaci's arguments, the lack of understanding of certain people appointed to cultural posts is excruciatingly evident and intensely frustrating for those who may effortlessly implement effective changes due to their profound knowledge.
A 1939 letter in which Gollcher's genuine annoyance is expressed so ardently could have been written today on the contemporary state of things. I find no difference in the critical language elicited by Gollcher and that of those who are responsive and aware of the present condition, which is a saddening and disheartening comparison. If Gollcher's efforts did not bear great consequences, then will the efforts of those active in the contemporary art scene prove to be futile?
Luckily, they do not seem to be so. Although many changes still need to be implemented, a vigorous community of dedicated people has blossomed over the years. The Department of History of Art is a foremost example of a disciplined and committed entity with international vision. This philosophy has proliferated over the years with the increasing number of students choosing to pursue art historical studies at university level. Another exemplary body is Fondazzjoni Patrimonju Malti (FPM), which manages Palazzo Falson. FPM is a leading example of the significance of private patronage for public cultural benefit. In Malta, unfortunately, there is an over-reliance on state responsibility for cultural investment. In principle, I fully endorse the fact that the state should maintain its national museums and establish new ones (such as the still non-existent Museum of Modern Art) and also purchase new acquisitions. After all, it is the state which stands to gain exponentially from cultural tourism.
Cultural institutions and museums need to engender a system of private investment from both individuals and companies in order to maintain international qualitative standards. Palazzo Falson is probably the only example in Malta of a museum which proudly exhibits the names of its donors and patrons who enable the museum to function as a research institution as well as a treasure trove of historical artifacts. Museums are living spaces for researchers and the public to actively engage with objects directly, and it is this tangible experience which permits the expansion of cultural awareness. And in today's overwhelming society, it is the museum which must reach out towards the public and continuously attract its attention.
Nikki Petroni is a doctoral student in the History of Art Department, University of Malta. She is also a member of the organisational team of the Mdina Cathedral Contemporary Art Biennale which will be held between 13 November 2015 and 7 January 2016. APS Bank is the main partner of the Mdina Biennale