The scene, not a Moulin Rouge stage beneath theatrical spotlights, but the stairs in Valletta. In front of Ta' Ġieżu church to be exact. The "soul sister" chorus is, perhaps, an unintended pun.

The controversy began after Ta' Ġieżu church publicly objected to a planning application for a bar, together with tables and chairs, outside its historic church. Shortly afterwards, the church shared photographs and videos of a burlesque performer dancing in front of its main entrance. For many, the images became the story. But perhaps they distracted us from the real one.

And so, it began a crossfire of opinions, grounded on the sacred and profane, on conservatism, morality, as well as artistic freedom, and the changing identity of our capital city. Specifically, the debate on the conversion of Valletta from a city by and for gentlemen to a gentlemen's club.

I was prompted to write about this after reading an insightful online comment by a friend of mine, Dr Alexander Vella Gregory, who articulated what I believe is the issue at the heart of this debate. The issue is twofold, the use of public space and the art of burlesque itself.   These are, in fact, two separate conversations that have become unhelpfully entangled.

The first concerns the use of public space. Valletta is steadily becoming a city where public land is increasingly privatised, one table, one chair, one cocktail menu at a time. Pavements narrow, piazzas become extensions of commercial establishments, and spaces that once belonged to everyone become spaces available primarily to paying customers. The debate should not be reduced to whether one agrees with a church or with a burlesque performer. It should be about who has the right to occupy public space and under what conditions. With this come the issue of noise pollution especially to residents living in Valletta.

The dance performance was, perhaps, the straw that broke the camel's back. It became the visible symbol of a much deeper frustration that has been building amongst Valletta residents and locals, including those within the religious communities that form part of the city's historic fabric.

I make this observation not as a passing commentary, but based on ethnographic insights I gathered these last few years, including through the visual ethnography component of the Visual Sociology study-unit assignment that I designed for my students at the University of Malta. Through residents' accounts, photographs, and observations of everyday life in Valletta, a recurring concern emerged: the growing impact of noise pollution and the pressures generated by the rapid transformation of the city.

Valletta's accelerated development, taking place without sufficient consideration of doing any social impact assessment, has generated ripple effects that extend beyond individual complaints. Residents, daily commuters, small amenities businesses, and long-established communities have all experienced the consequences of a city increasingly shaped around tourism and commercial activity.

One resident expressed a sentiment that was echoed repeatedly in different forms: "Residenti msieken imkeċċijin minn darhom" - the residents are being pushed out of their own homes. Yet, alongside this frustration, another oscillating argument on the other side, a profound emotional attachment to Valletta. Another resident captured this tension with the words: "Jien twelidt il-Belt u mmut il-Belt" - I was born in the City and I will die in the City.

These two statements reveal the complexity of Valletta's transformation. Residents are not simply resisting change; many are resisting a form of change that risks disconnecting the city from the very communities that have historically given it life. The debate, therefore, is not merely about one performance in front of one church. It is about belonging, memory, and the right of residents and commuters to remain active participants in shaping the future of the city they call home.

The occupation of public space is itself contested. In this instance, the contest is particularly striking because it unfolds in front of a place synonymous with worship, community service, and voluntary commitment. Ta' Ġieżu is not merely an architectural landmark; it is a living institution sustained by volunteers and dedicated to the wellbeing of others. Among its most visible expressions is the Soup Kitchen in its convent, led with remarkable dedication by Fr Marcelino Micallef, whose work embodies care, solidarity, and social responsibility. Just last year, this Soup Kitchen served over 112,00 meals to vulnerable individuals.

It is precisely this contrast that makes the debate so compelling. On one side stands a space associated with service to the community; on the other, the increasing commercialisation of public space. The issue is not burlesque as an art form. Burlesque, in its proper theatrical context, is a legitimate artistic practice with its own history, aesthetics, and conventions. Rather, the concern is the instrumentalisation of sexuality as a commercial device, to attract attention, increase footfall, encourage people to gaze, consume, and ultimately spend. In that sense, the body becomes less an artistic medium than a marketing tool, and public space becomes another commodity in Valletta's ongoing transformation from a lived city into a marketplace of experiences.

In effect, the second concerns the art of burlesque itself. Burlesque is an art form that traditionally belongs indoors, where lighting, staging, audience consent and theatrical atmosphere are integral to the experience.  Transplanted onto the steps of a church with makeshift handrails as dancing poles, much of what makes burlesque artistically meaningful is lost. It becomes less a performance and more a provocation, not necessarily because of the performer, but because the context overwhelms the art. The dancer became the spectacle; a commodified spectacle designed to capture attention as people navigated around chairs, cushions, and clutter while attempting to make their way down the stairs.

This is not a battle between religion and liberalism, nor between prudishness and progressiveness. It is a conversation about the commercialisation of public space, the normalisation of prioritizing commercial activity, as well as about recognising artistic forms within the contexts that give them meaning. Reducing the debate to whether one was offended by a burlesque performance misses the point entirely.