Another project by Katel Delia, carrying a powerful message, is currently on display at the Wignacourt Museum in Rabat, until 26 July, curated by yours truly.

I've known Katel for around 10 years (yes, it's our 10-year friendship anniversary!). I had the pleasure of meeting her just a few days after she moved to Malta. Our first meetings took place at none other than Ta' Gianna in Żejtun, where Katel was instantly captivated by the Maltese għana, which went on to inspire her very first project created specifically for Malta.

Since then, we've collaborated on countless projects, exhibitions and installations, and travelled together to many exhibitions, biennales and festivals... always chasing art.

Apart from celebrating 10 years of our awesome friendship, this year also marks Katel's 50th birthday. And what better way to celebrate such an important milestone than with a solo exhibition? Which, yes, brings us to the topic at hand.

Threads of what remains is an exhibition that raises awareness about the destruction of underwater seabeds and all that lies hidden from the human eye. This is by no means a new subject for Delia. In fact, one of her recent installations, Hidden beneath, featured in But I see beauty and wonder... at Spazju Kreattiv, used a dual photography projection setup to highlight the stark contrast between a lifeless seabed and one that had been declared a marine sanctuary a few years prior.

Her magnum opus, The last breath (2021) - an installation I had the honour of curating - was first exhibited at il-Kamra ta' Fuq, and later at Le Centquatre in Paris as part of the prestigious photography festival, Circulation(s). A diver and underwater photographer herself, Katel used this immersive work, composed of numerous underwater photos, to powerfully address the tragedy of migration across the Mediterranean.

Her interest in underwater photography art stretches back to her earliest months in Malta, when she created photographic diptychs for the Mdina Cathedral Contemporary Art Biennale. These early explorations of the submerged world clearly sparked a recurring theme in her practice, one that continues to evolve and deepen to this day.

Let's return to our current collaboration - Threads of what remains. Today, our oceans are facing immense and escalating pressures. From plastic pollution and habitat degradation to overfishing, global warming, and the alarming decline of marine species, the underwater world is in crisis. The scale and complexity of these issues are vast, and increasingly impossible to ignore.

Threads of what remains is quite a personal artistic investigation for Delia. Over the past three decades, she has explored the underwater world firsthand. Through her lens, she captures haunting images of a fragile and unstable marine environment, where once-abundant fish populations have vanished, leaving vast areas devoid of life, and surviving coral reefs bear traces of plastic embedded in their delicate structures.

In this exhibition, Katel introduces a new, unique approach to her practice by incorporating delicate embroidery into her underwater photographs. She stitches seabed reliefs and topographical lines that echo the shapes of submerged landscapes near threatened coastlines and reefs. These embroidered threads serve as a metaphor for the fragile ties that connect humanity to the sea, and for the urgent need to protect these vulnerable ecosystems before they disappear entirely.

In one striking photograph, Katel stitches a long net across the image, highlighting the destructive impact of bottom trawling. This fishing method not only devastates seabeds and releases stored carbon into the water column, but also proves economically unsustainable in the long run. The stitched net alludes to "ghost nets" - abandoned fishing gear that continues to entangle and kill marine life long after it's been discarded. These nets, lines and traps drift aimlessly through the ocean, sink to the seabed or wash ashore - but they never stop fishing.

In 2022, The Guardian published an article titled New study reveals 'staggering' scale of lost fishing gear drifting in Earth's oceans, noting that "lost nets, lines and hooks trap wildlife for years". The figures are, indeed, staggering: 78,000 sq. km of purse seine nets and gillnets, 215 sq. km of bottom trawl nets, 740,000km of main long lines, 15.5 million kilometres of branch lines, 13 billion longline hooks and 25 million traps and pots - all lost equipment, floating or sunk, and still claiming lives.

In the Thread works, the stitched threads jut out beyond the picture composition, as if, like the ghost nets themselves, they are unstoppable, uncontainable, and beyond our control.

Delia is also presenting four sculptures, created in mixed media and closely tied to the themes of the exhibition. Through these three-dimensional works, she draws attention to a range of urgent environmental concerns, offering a tactile and spatial extension of the conversation begun in her photographs.

Katel's work draws deeply on her personal experience, reminding us that the ocean's vitality is not infinite. Where divers once encountered untouched reefs and thriving biodiversity just metres below the surface, they now face cliffs of destruction and the silent disappearance of life. The exhibition invites us to reflect on what remains beneath the waves, the threads of life, memory, and responsibility, and ultimately, to reconsider our relationship with the ocean.

Other photographic works in the exhibition depict devastated seabeds, void of any life and echoing with a deafening silence. Some images reveal the remnants of abandoned ropes and ladders, slowly corroding underwater, haunting traces of human presence. In others, Katel captures auras of light plunging poignantly into the depths, like spiritual beacons, perhaps offering a glimmer of hope amid the wreckage.

A small section of the exhibition is also dedicated to Katel's actual diving gear and the specialised underwater photography equipment she uses. This not only places her work into a clearer context, underscoring the immense effort and commitment involved in creating such impactful pieces, but also highlights the beauty of diving as a discipline. It's a subtle invitation for others to become more curious about the underwater world and to start exploring what lies beneath the surface.

However, sometimes there's good news too, and if we truly want to address these issues, it is possible. Just a couple of weeks ago, the Australian Marine Conservation Society shared a Facebook post announcing that: "According to recent reports, French Polynesia has committed to creating two new marine sanctuaries that together span about 900,000 square kilometres. The new marine sanctuary areas will improve protections for marine life in offshore waters near the Society Islands and Gambier Islands."

But here comes an even bigger "However".

Following the United Nations Ocean Conference (UNOC) held in Nice just a few weeks ago, the website AlexandraCousteau.com highlights a troubling reality: in France, "in areas meant to be ocean sanctuaries, you can still drag a massive net across the seafloor, crushing habitats, killing marine life, and releasing stored carbon".

The same article goes on to state: "Oceana dropped a little reality check in late May. Their analysis found that more than 100 bottom trawlers spent over 17,000 hours fishing inside France's six marine national parks in European waters in 2024. Yes, in the 'protected' ones. That's the equivalent of one boat fishing around the clock for nearly two years straight. Apparently, in France, 'protection' just means adding a fancy label and hoping no one looks too closely."

My article isn't intended to provide a deep analysis of maritime policy, but if you're curious to read more, a quick Google search of "Empty promises in Nice: France's ocean hypocrisy on full display" will probably point you in the right direction.

Threads of what remains is an intimate journey through the fragile underwater world. It is a call to awareness, safekeeping, and hope, an invitation to witness the sea's beauty and vulnerability, and to act before its wonders become relics of the past.

French artist Delia works between Malta and Paris. One of her photographic series was awarded the Cap Prize for Contemporary African Photography and the Maghreb Photography awards. Two of her major solo exhibitions, Malta - Tunis - Marseille (2021) and Familja migrAzzjoni (2017), were held at Spazju Kreattiv. She recently published her first photobook, Malta - Tunis - Marseille.

The exhibition runs until 26 July at the Wignacourt Museum, Rabat. The museum is open daily from 9am, with the last entry at 4.15pm