It's time local artists and cultural workers reflect on themselves before blaming others. Every year, small protests arise over misused funds and lavish, optics-driven events that claim to support the arts but rarely benefit the artists or the art. Funding is often uneven, with political undertones skewing where the money goes.
Yet, when these protests do arise, they're often drowned out by the broader silence of the community. The complicity, even if unintentional, renders the protests forgettable.
The core question remains: when we see these grand productions, inflated slogans, and hollow promises wrapped in buzzwords like stability, career development, and longevity, does any of it truly reach the artist?
When we talk about money going to artists, we must ask: what is it really used for? Yes, artists deserve fair pay, and it's the government's duty to fund the arts meaningfully - so society can access diverse work that reflects and challenges them - sometimes directly, sometimes abstractly.
People have the right to see themselves in art and be inspired to think deeper and feel more. But does the government truly want that? Do those in power want the public to be challenged and elevated?
Lavish ceremonies and award nights claim to honor artists' hard work, but how much of the money spent reaches the artists themselves?
When money does go to artists, it should also support the wider network that enables artistic work to happen - contractors, cultural workers, technicians, designers. These are the people who make up the backbone of the sector. And yet, time and time again, they are overlooked, mistreated, and underpaid.
When funding doesn't reach the full ecosystem, it is these workers who suffer the most. And they often remain unheard, dependent on the more visible artists and creators to advocate for a fairer, more sustainable sector. But that advocacy rarely happens.
Then there are those who are based or raised abroad but use Malta's funding schemes for their projects. If they were more present in protests, the impact would be stronger, and issues would be addressed more swiftly. It feels selfish when those who haven't contributed to the local tax system, despite their talent, don't join the fight for a better industry that benefits everyone.
At the same time, many recognizable faces, ones who could make a wide impact, are often those who remain silent, while riding on the hard work and mistreatment of many.
I've heard of isolated cases where artists have defended their projects and secured support. But these actions are often taken behind the curtain, quietly, to avoid drawing attention or backlash. They serve individual interests, not the collective good.
Occasionally, sector-wide meetings are held to address systemic problems - whether in film, theatre, music, or dance. I attend these gatherings often. And what I notice is this: the people who show up are usually new faces, emerging artists at the start of their careers. They speak openly about the injustices they face.
But often, those injustices are happening within projects led by seasoned, established artists, the same ones who complain in private yet remain silent in public. Many of them don't even show up to these meetings. They have grown comfortable with the status quo. They are satisfied with the crumbs they can secure for themselves, so long as they get paid.
Meanwhile, they bring others on board who are willing, or desperate enough, to work for next to nothing. The conditions are often questionable, even exploitative. But if the project gets executed, the lead artist gets to stand proudly before an audience, speaking about how "professional" their work is.
The sector is simply too fragmented. There are those who are brave enough to voice their concerns, and those who prefer to take a step back. Unfortunately, the latter tend to be greater in number and often discourage the former from speaking out.
During the Ċelebrazzjoni campaign, The Malta Producers Association was more than willing to capitalize on the courage of several cultural workers who put themselves forward to voice concerns about the lack of real investment in the sector. Yet, they chose to keep the campaign hidden from their own members until the very moment it was launched. Why? Because they knew many wouldn't agree with the approach, wouldn't support that form of protest, or worse, might expose the campaign to those they were protesting.
Over the years, MEIA have rightfully raised several important concerns. However, they cannot claim to represent an entire industry when most practitioners are not even members. In the case of the film sector, one reason for this disconnect is the association's longstanding link to the world of television. And sadly, that's an industry where you can build a CV by either not paying others or not getting paid yourself.
I still encourage more practitioners to join such associations, because only through broader participation can we achieve unity of ideas and a stronger collective voice.
But the issue remains: why should people join when lobbying is inconsistent and often quiet at the moments when it's needed most? Take this year, for example - there was near silence from the associations following yet another round of excessive spending during the Mediterrane Film Festival.
I used to oppose the Mediterrane Film Festival, but now, in its third edition, I see it as a fixture on Malta's cultural calendar and wouldn't mind it continuing. My concern isn't the festival itself, but how it's handled. Unfortunately, political interference has become far too normalized in this country - affecting everything.
The Minister of Culture, Owen Bonnici, had three public opportunities to present the festival as both a platform for local talent and a showcase for cinema, while also emphasizing its commercial potential to attract foreign producers. On these occasions, he failed to highlight the artistic purpose of the event, despite pressure to align it with how film festivals operate internationally. That omission speaks volumes. The Minister is quick to join Biennale artists in photoshoots celebrating their success. Yet until recently, artists had to cover expenses upfront, long before allocated funds were distributed. I truly hope this issue has been resolved.
After I spoke out about late payments, meagre funds in the industry, and excessive spending on events, the Minister tried to make an example of me by pressuring associations to distance themselves, punishing me for raising valid concerns. I don't blame others for staying silent; the risk of isolation is real.
The move backfired. It exposed the minister's partisan tactics and drew public criticism. Shadow Minister Julie Zahra even called him out on the TV show Kazin, though the exchange became so heated it was cut from the broadcast, as I could be heard directing some less-than-kind remarks toward Bonnici.
To her credit, Zahra did more in that moment than her party ever had. They had previously invited me to speak at their protests and on their programs, often encouraging me to "attack." But I've always made it clear: I speak on my own terms.
After I was targeted, they only wanted me back if I stuck to attacking the minister. They refused to address the associations' role entirely.
Had MEIA been included, those engaging with me would have had to explain why, just a week before their dissociation letter, they were encouraging me and my sources to become members. They'd also have to answer for seeking my input on event speakers in the chairperson's absence. They also shared frustrations about members not speaking out on several issues, among other things, all of which was done behind their own board's back.
It's common for governments to slash culture funds first during budget cuts. But Maltese artists can't keep standing by while funds are wasted on propaganda and lavish events, leaving them to struggle on tight budgets. The money exists, it always has, but it's just simply not reaching them. It is time to reflect and accept some responsibility. It is high time to finally raise the volume. The complicity, even if unintentional, renders the protests irrelevant and forgettable.
Matthew Maggi has worked in the film industry locally and internationally for the past 14 years, both as a crew member and as a performer. He has recently been given funding to begin developing his own projects.