There are evenings that feel like turning a page in a country's cultural story - and the evening of 1st October was one of them. The Manoel Theatre, already steeped in history, became the cradle of something new: the debut of the De Valette Chamber Orchestra.
I recognised just two faces on the stage that evening: Anna Kosińska, the orchestra's Artistic Director and a violinist of luminous presence - both musically and otherwise. She had played for us last year, and it was a joy to see her again.
The other was our own Carmine Lauri who is recognised even by those who have never stepped into the Manoel. The orchestra is under his inspired direction. He is Malta's own internationally acclaimed violinist and Principal Emeritus of the London Symphony Orchestra. His CV is as thick as War & Peace. Perhaps I am exaggerating here but he has achieved so very much especially for a relatively young man. He brought Malta nothing but glory.
Carmine brought together a constellation of talent as many of the musicians on that stage that evening, are leaders in their own right, drawn from distinguished orchestras across Europe.
I knew nothing about this new Chamber Orchestra. I failed to leaf through a handsome blue booklet handed out at the door and designed by Luca Azzopardi. I only did this once I got home and learned so much about this new birth.
Edward Zammit, CEO of both the Manoel and this new ensemble, described the orchestra as "born from a passion to honour Malta's musical legacy and to forge new artistic paths."
Lauri's own welcome note was heartfelt: "Tonight marks the birth of a new musical journey... to keep the spirit of classical music alive and thriving."
And now for the music.
Tchaikovsky's Serenade for Strings in C major, Op. 48, opened the evening with a sweep of grandeur and grace. Written "from inner compulsion," as the composer once said, it's a work that wears its heart on its sleeve. The orchestra gave it warmth and clarity, especially in the lilting waltz and the noble finale - a nod to Mozart, Tchaikovsky's musical idol. He is said to have adored him once saying "Mozart is the musical Christ."
As a boy, Tchaikovsky was so emotionally sensitive that certain harmonies made him burst into tears or collapse sobbing after playing the piano.
He was deeply conflicted about his identity and suffered from depression, yet his music radiates beauty and strength. One haunting anecdote: he once feared his head might fall off while conducting, so he held his chin with one hand during performances.
In 1891, he conducted the inaugural concert at Carnegie Hall in New York - an honour that marked his global recognition.
I remember enjoying a film about him many years ago the title of which escapes me.
Dvořák's Serenade for Strings in E major, Op. 22, followed. Composed in just twelve days during a joyful spring in 1875, it's a piece that sings of hope and homeland. The composer had just won a state scholarship thanks to Johannes Brahms' recommendation, and the music reflects his elation - warm, lyrical and full of Czech charm.
His music often expressed homesickness. Even in America, where he composed New World Symphony, he said, "I long for my native land. I miss the birds, the woods, the countryside..."
The musicians captured its rustic charm and rhythmic vitality with finesse, the cellos glowing in the Larghetto, the Finale dancing with Bohemian flair.
What struck me most was the ensemble's cohesion. For a debut performance, I found this remarkable. Perhaps it was the presence of historic instruments - crafted by the likes of Stradivari and Guarneri del Gesù - that lent the evening its golden tone. Or perhaps it was something deeper: a shared belief in the power of music to move, to connect, to begin anew.
As I stepped out into the Valletta night, the final notes still echoing in my mind, I felt a quiet thrill. Malta has a new voice in its musical landscape. And if this first concert is anything to go by, the De Valette Chamber Orchestra is destined to become one of its brightest.
On a different note. On the 4th of this month our family remember our beloved father especially for he died on that day in 1986. Salv Said was an exceptional man. We realise that now, more than ever because we have children of
our own. Those of us who are preparing for our own departure think of our dead more and more. He died just six months before my beloved husband.
I hope to see them again when we shall have eternity in which to catch up with unfinished conversations and get them to answer so many unanswered questions. They are never more than a thought away.
This morning at around 5am, only half asleep, I imagined him tugging at my duvet to make sure even my neck was covered properly. A tender gesture. Where has tenderness gone?
May they continue to rest in peace.
So, till we meet again.
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