I left a comment on an excellent post by Ramona Depares that dealt with the proposed Paceville revamp (Paceville revamp my foot). When I decided to move out of my parents’ house in Paceville, before I came to Luxembourg, some weird homing device in my brain led me to choose an apartment in Paceville. Crazy right? It had nothing to do with being close to the mater and pater – they’d be shifting base to Gozo anyway upon retirement. It’s just that Paceville has always felt like an alien part of Malta – a metropolitan suburb if you will that manages to be a cut off from the reality of the rest of the island thanks to its peculiarities.

Sure, Paceville had the traffic jams and the noise but its also the place where you can pop out to have a snack at 3am and observe the drunk ramblings of the latest visitor it has received with arms wide open. Paceville has a life of its own that no other place in Malta can emulate. It is a life that grew in a test tube in spite of and not thanks to any controlled civic plans. For a long time in the nineties “Paceville” was a synonym of the doorstep to hell … mentioned in the same breath as Satanic Masses, Drunken Hedonism and other pleasures of the flesh while enjoying star status on the earliest episodes of Xarabank. The more it grew the less it could be controlled and no attempt at competition (like that sore excuse of a rival called Bugibba) could even dream of stealing its show.

The suburb that never sleeps is now subject of a proposed revamp. Revamps under the nationalist government have come to mean an investment in street furniture, a couple of coats of paint and every now and then a pedestrian zone replete with kitschy statues. Tenders galore in fact. Which is the last thing that Paceville needs. Here is the comment I left on Ramona’s blog for it says the rest of what I have to say. (Featured video: Mike Spiteri – Paceville – Malta Song for Europe 1992).

We've got Beach Bums too in P'ville

Great post Ramona, and this coming from a Pacevillian through and through. I am not for an authoritarian, ultra-regulated approach because entertainment is by its very nature anti-regulation. You cannot create entertainment through regulation.

Having said that I see two early solutions to the problems of Paceville. First the basic interventions that you highlighted and that are absent. Upper St George’s Road (Spinola is not Paceville – yes those 500m make a difference) has long begged for a multi-purpose intervention centre – police, first aid and information office. Yes. Information office. A center of fun bang in the middle of Paceville – tickets to nightclubs, information about special offers and bands/djs performing in the area , where to watch your football etc. You know keep an eye on what’s happening by being part of it.

Then get the taxis/transport people to pull their act together and finally the most difficult part – incentivise Paceville business to get out of its stupid and crass mentality of the mediocre race to the bottom. Entertainment as I said earlier does not come out of regulation. It does not obey rules. It plants itself in fertile and welcoming soil. Strictly speaking Paceville has never been anything superlative (although we have all had our great nights out there) but it has to fight hard against the possibility of becoming once again a synonym for the doorstep to hell as it was in the early nineties.

This Christmas & New Year, the wife and I were supposed to be going on a dream honeymoon to Sri Lanka and the Maldives. Were supposed. Yes that’s it. It’s not happening – at least we are not going there. I cannot really complain because we are actually off to tour the West Coast (and I plan to drive A1A Beachfront Avenue with Vanilla Ice on the stereo – how’s that for the apex of corny retro) and then drive through the desert to Vegas before hitting the beaches in Antigua. That’s what I call a cool backup plan.

If my alter ego, Gakbu Sfigho, were still active he would have chronicled how we went through a hundred different jabs (ok 2 – but one of them left me doing my own version of the Runs for a weeekend) as well as how we incurred hundreds of euros in medical expenses BEFORE we even got on the plane. Incidentally if anyone needs around 200€ worth of malaria pills (Malarone) I’m your man. I am also in possession of a one month tourist VISA to Sri Lanka that was obtained with the extra expense of DHL transmission of documents and a serendipital donation to the Maltese Association in Brussels (Fausto will correct the nomenclature).

So yes. This is a little explanation to J’accuse readers that should tell you why you will not be reading missives from the land of tea plantations and spicy food. Instead I might write you a letter from Alcatraz. One things fo shoo…. we ain’t going to Sri Lanka.

Bertu of Bertoons for J’accuse has sent in a promo blurb for this exhibition that is runnning at Rupert Cefai’s Gallery Pi between the 14th and 24th October. J’accuse dutifully passes on the information to its readers – do go check out Rupert’s little corner of Valletta in Archbishop Street.

“Naked ruins exclusive at Gallery Pi”

Like Madonna, the Yerbury duo constantly reinvent themselves with fresh  approaches to their art – and challenging diversions within the social portraiture genus.

As the 4th generation of this celebrated Scottish photographic dynasty, Trevor spent many years concentrating on fashion and private nude commissions. He returned to social and wedding photography in the mid 90s and immediately created a unique style of photography, which not only earned him the title of “Kodak UK Wedding Photographer of the Year” in 1997 & 1999, but his influential style helped change the course of wedding photography into the relaxed, informal style we have today.

No stranger to the media, Trevor has been interviewed about his individual style of photography on national television by Noel Edmonds for the BBC, Carol Smillie for ITV and Paul Ross for SKY. He is a regular contributor to BBC radio arts programmes.

Trevor was featured on the BBC Arts documentary “The Bigger Picture” where he was filmed making a portrait of Billy Connolly. The resulting image was used as the opening scene for each episode and has since become an iconic image.

Their work in photographing the female nude has been recognised internationally, resulting in overseas exhibitions and seminar tours. In 2003,the Yerburys’ talent was commissioned to supply the entire artwork for the new Glasshouse Hotel in Edinburgh – a brave concept, but one that resulted in the hotel recently being voted Sexiest Hotel in Scotland.

The Yerburys have held several exhibition of their work in galleries around the UK including the Association of Photographers Gallery in London and the Demarco Gallery in Edinburgh. Their work has also been exhibited in America, France and Spain. Their work has been featured in many books and photographic magazines on the Nude Trevor holds a total of 14 Kodak European Gold Awards. His other awards include SWPP UK Glamour Photographer 2006 and UK Fashion Photographer 2006.

Four years ago Trevor Yerbury was voted one of the world’s top ten photographers by a leading Spanish magazine…despite having once declared: “I won’t shoot the wedding if the bride isn’t beautiful”.

Faye joined Trevor full time in 1996 and has earned an enviable reputation for her work. On 3 occasions she has won the title of “Kodak UK Child Photographer of the Year”. She also holds a Kodak Gold Award and SWPP UK Architectural Photographer 2006.

The Yerburys now devote much of their time to their seminar and workshop programme, convinced that education is essential for today’s professional photographer. They are committed to providing a platform and an environment in which all levels of photographers can come together and develop their own individual creative talents.

Trevor and Faye have judged both nationally and internationally. Trevor has just finished judging the annual European Professional Photographer of the Year Awards 2011.

The exhibition will run exclusively at Gallery Pi Archbishop Str., Valletta, from the 14th to the 24th October 2011, The Gallery will be open from Tuesday to Friday from 10am to 2pm and Saturdays from 9:30 to 12:30 or by appointment. For more information please visit www.gallerypi.com

J’accuse lends itself to some experimentation for the greater glory of révù. A slide show using flickr that demonstrates both the beauty of hipstamatic shots and the maravilliouos setting of Cambridge (and a bit of toilets (don’t ask), London and food).

Part 1 – food

A holiday planned around a wedding in Cambridge was a great opportunity to really relax and switch off. While I could not really resist the temptation to hook onto WiFi and catch up on the news outside, I found the pull of the great town (its history, its food and its shops) to be  a soothing palliative to the stress of recent months. Yep, J’accuse went on a sort of mental shut down while walking from college to college in the old University town.

Holiday also meant that the Dukan Diet got a deserved break that kicked off with pork scratching entrées at The Chophouse outside King’s College. They’re fabulous, especially dipped in an apple cider purée and washed down well with a Pinot Gris (we had to add a touch of Greater Luxembourg to the first meal). If you do get down to the Chophouse there is one desert that cannot be missed – the (gluten free) fruit crumble. Divinity on a plate.

I still get impressed at the sanitised manner in which food – packed food and food that screams “I’m both retro and healthy” – is approached in the UK. Places like PRET, EAT and the like line up salad after salad and take-away wraps confounding both stomach and mind as to the choice for the quick solution to accompany your adjective ridden coffee.

Even the Crowne Plaza breakfast coffee is “proudly brewed by Starbucks” which means that your adventure to get the right cappuccino or espresso has to start from outside the haven of the otherwise magnificent breakfast table at the hotel. No worries – Cambridge does not even need to offer you a faux italian establishment for a good brew of the grain (vide Don Pasquale’s in the market square). Just pop over to Fitzbillie’s where your excellent espresso/capuccino/macchiato can be downed with a bite of the Chelsea buns that form the foundations of Fitzbillie’s growing reputation.

For good local food there are two solutions: a pub lunch is always a pleasant option – try the Anchor for example where you can sit back and enjoy the punters if like us you’ve found some clement weather. If you want to have the wankellectual solution then try the Eagle Pub (round the corner from the Chophouse) where Watson and Crick allegedly cracked the DNA idea. Better still nothing beats the marketplace for good food. I am told on a very good authority that the mouthwatering whiff of Ostrich Burgers that pervade the senses upon reaching market square do not lie. The burgers are phantasmagorically scrumptious.

If standing up to chew on a burger is not your style then do not miss out on Bill’s Cafe restaurant and Store. Tasty food homely decor and great service combine to give you an unforgettable dining experience (and moment of relaxation) amidst colourful surroundings. The hummous and halloumi sandwich is particularly exquisite – and you can walk out with a bill’s recipe book as well as some of their wonderful produce.

You can also walk out with a recipe book if you visit Jamie’s Italian. The design and decor is magnificent. The menu is brazenly simple and to the point. The food. Well. Nothing great there to be honest. Our waitress turned out to have worked at Sliema Pitch restaurant for two years before moving to Jamie’s in Cambridge. If I had to be perfectly honest the Angus Steak served at Sliema pitch is a hundred times better than the fare we got on the plate amidst the usual fuss of quaint presentations and “genuine” Italian at Jamie’s.

Cambrigde. Much more than a University town.

End of the two weeks in Malta. The notes from a small island include a register of the pent up frustration that surfaces when discussing and that contrasts incredibly with the image of laid back Med country that is part of the daily tableau. We don’t travel to judge. Us expats I mean but we are inevitably driven to drawing comparisons. So while we may find the heat a little bit more unbearable with every visit, we can also be pleasantly surprised by the little beauties that surface. It’s like that with culinary fantasies like the atmosphere and food at Temptasian (The roof restaurant at The Palace, Sliema). While waiting for 30 mins at Zaventem for the baggage to finally start moving round the conveyor belt we are reminded by a Flemish lady that every country has it’s imperfections: “welcome to Belgium”. Luckily we manage to hop on the last train home and are chauffeured from the arid train station to sleepy Dondelange by the laid back and chilled MV who reminds us of the welcoming and homely nature of the Maltese abroad. We read the book ‘Uncommon’ on the flight and found it to be fantasmagorical. More on that in re-vu when we get down to writing a short review, which is a bit ironic really because I get the feeling that it will be like révù reviewing itself.

Image: from the J’accse physical archives. A snapshot of a poster for an SDM/MUSC party back in the day when budding politicians knew the difference between work and play (and were good at both) and DJs were …. Hell, just DJs.

Last night, Merlin’s flagship author Pierre Mejlak launched his latest collection of short stories entitled “dak li l-lejl iħallik tgħid” (“what the night lets you say”). The event was held in the sumptuous settings of Mdina’s Palazzo Falson – a jewel in Malta’s heritage crown and will surely be registered as an all-round success by the organisers. Merlin has hit on a winning formula that is a combination of finding worthy texts, packaging them in an exciting wrapping and creating an aura of anticipation around them. In doing so it may be leading the way to the rediscovery of Maltese literature by an ever widening audience.

Marketing ploys may spice up the look, feel and spin of a literature piece but the proof of the pie is in the eating. Whether you are leaving the magnificent setting of Palazzo Falson or walking out of your bookshop of choice with book in hand, there is only so much that the package can sell (and it has gone some way in doing so by getting to buy the book). The list of deserved praises that Mejlak’s previous works have attracted might tickle the fancy of a first-time reader but there’s no better selling point than the wonderful weaving of ideas and words that is Pierre’s imagination set to paper.

The moment you start reading a story of Pierre’s you switch off from reality and follow the author’s melodic pan pipe into the realm of fantasy. In pIerre’s case, the elaborate insights of an observant narrator combine to provide a simple, unputtdownable text that transforms the mundane into an attractive fun-fair. You willingly join the Pied Piper for the ride and enjoy every single word of it.

Minor spoiler alert: the next paragraphs contain hints of the first story without revealing the plot.

I confirmed this feeling with the Prelude and first story (“l-ambaxxatriċi”) last night. Pierre promised, Pierre delivered. (I’m quite sure he’d deny the promising bit but he will definitely smile half-shyly at the delivery stage). For the story about the lady ambassador, Pierre has ventured to the Europe of Mitterand, Spadolini and Platini – and his characters now roam the corridors of the Elysée as happily as they did the piazzas of Qala and Nadur.

The storyline pushes the suspension of belief to its limits – toeing the fine line between credibility and fisherman’s lies – until you notice that the narrator is not desperately marketing the latest twisted truth but is actually conniving with you, the reader, in awe and appreciation at how quickly an elaborately designed story served someone else a dual purpose. And the moment you actually reach the end of Pierre’s Archer-like tale you are at one with the narrator’s observation … this time gazing angrily at a coffin.

Objective achieved : you thank the narrator for the ride and eagerly turn the page for a ticket on the next rollercoaster ride in a very, very colourful and unpredictable playground.

Two-thumbs up. Again.

One for nottebrava:

And this is where I continue from yesterday’s post. As I was saying (at some point) my biggest worry in this kind of events is that the “culture” crowd gets a little toy and keeps it to itself for a few events that would be deemed “arty-farty”. I am sure that this is not my concern alone but also that of the organisers – it was evident from some of the Monday presentations that they were assessing how to involve more and more people in this festival of all that is art.

Having lived through Luxembourg’s experience of European Cultural Capital (2007) I can see the first-hand benefits to be had to a whole cultural landscape. Luxembourg has been on a massive growth curve in terms of the general culture scene. It does have the added advantage of being part of a “Greater Region” that includes French Lorraine, German Rheinland-Pfalz and to a lesser extent Belgian Luxembourg. Initiatives in Luxembourg may have a wider catchment reaching out to these areas too but the benefits of 2007′s experience remain very local.

I’d like to expand on the village festa and village space concept, especially after Liz’s comment on yesterday’s post. What I meant when comparing “invasion” with “relation” was exactly what Liz emphasised. The village set-up built around organising mass scale events involving the whole population is there to be nurtured not radically changed. Liz echoed my thoughts when she said that the festa people might do with some inspiration to switch from tombola mode and explore new options of entertainment that might be deemed more “culture-worthy” by the snob among us.

Echternach in Luxembourg has the funny-walking march (dancing procession) on the occasion of the feast of Saint Willibrod attracting thousands of pilgrims/tourists to the area. The Limburg carnivals are a huge festival of celebration in the catholic “enclaves” of the Netherlands that turn out to be a massive street party along the canals of Maas for example complete with beer fests, food fests and shopping extravaganza. But we know this don’t we?

We also might have heard of the light show that illuminates Strasbourg’s immense cathedral in summer. We already have a series of summer “festivals” of our own in Valletta and beyond so there’s not much to learn there either. So what can Valletta 18 do that we are not doing already?

I’d suggest, as a first idea, to pilfer the TED format even further. Is there a Ministry building, a department, a hangar or something somewhere in Valletta (I’d bank on Strait Street) that can become a permanent workshop for Valletta 18? I’d turn it into a regular appointment for the business, art and political community. A stage, a powerpoint system, (some fans or aircon would be swell), chairs, coffee bar and bob’s your uncle. Imagine a weekly appointment at 7pm for two or three speakers to give 8 to 10 minute presentations and open the floor for discussion.

Create the thinking space. Give Valletta a brain. Let it build itself into a thinking city. The subjects could be anything – just like TED – so long as they could be linked to Valletta. Ideas about events, ideas about performances, transport, linking, networking…. how about it then?

Yesterday I was in Valletta for the opening of the imagine18 Conference & Workshops organised by the Malta Council for Culture and Arts in order to prepare for Valletta’s bid to be the European Capital of Culture in seven years’ time. The event was held in the sumptuous surroundings of the Manoel Theatre and was by open invitation. Anybody interested in contributing ideas to the bid could register and attend. Unfortunately I could not make it to the workshops this morning which makes me quite a passive attendee. On the other hand, J’accuse being J’accuse, we could not resist a little brainstorming exercise that resulted from yesterday’s sessions. The points are in no particular order and use twitter-ish convention… but here goes…

• @organisers – great move to kick off in the insiprational setting, set the tone of seriousness balanced with casual exchange of ideas in TED style
• the biggest question running persistently through my mind as the first presentations went by was : Who is this for? I got the feeling you get when you are having a bath and let your head go underwater … and start to hear the muffled noises get further and further away. Was Malta’s “cultured” crowd about to embark on another fancy trip of navel-gazing? Is there an audience for culture with a capital “C”‘ Should we be looking for it?
• @toniattard invited people to start networking from now. In Malta? Do they really need to? Don’t they know enough of/about each other already? Will we be repackaging the current “culture crowd” and standards for the sake of the bid or will the (what I deem necessary) reinvention of cultural approaches be the happy result of this bid.
• @adrianmamo culture is about recognising what we are and where we come from. Definitely. How to fit this into the @creativity works concept will be interesting.
• the festa and village breeding crowd of malta’s equivalent of “popular culture” must be nurtured not invaded. The bandisti and the village space that is celebrated mostly at festa time must be recognised as a building block. When @toni put up a photo to represent Malta’s 71 theaters it was a photo of Gozo’s two main theaters – Astra and Aurora. No surprise there. Gozo has long built it’s cultural milieu around the civic conscience of its citizens. It may be time to ditch any snobbish attitudes towards this manner of expanding culture – centred around the kazin tal-banda, the pjazza and yes, the enemy of the liberals (?) the catholic church in its social vestige. “Modern” culture must be prepared to relate and not invade into this cultural breeding ground that works. Take the fireworks and package them well. You might even get a colourful success out of them.
• I have a socialist twitch whenever I see culture being thought of in terms of revenue. €4m here and €4 there IS important but is that the only way we can sell this idea? I can guess that roping in politicians requires a bit of this too but surely there is a value in culture that goes beyond euros and cents?

I’m running short of time right now. Got more bullets to write later…. click back this evening for more.

imagine 18 on maltainsideout

One of my current “thinking post” books (i.e. books read while spending time in the restroom) is “The Triumph of the Political Class” by Peter Oborne. The book is a damning exposure of the mechanics of the political system in 21st century Britain. As I read through Oborne’s thesis I cannot help replacing the term “Political Class” with PLPN and apply the reasoning to analogous circumstances in Malta – and I am surprised with the results. It’s a perfect fit.

Oborne uses the term “Political Class” constantly with capitalised P and C with reference to the new class of cross-party political careerists and examines their impact on the magical democracy that is Britain.

Here is an excerpt from the chapter entitled “The Ideology of the Political Class”:

For most of the twentieth century governing elites brought with them to Westminster a set of principles, tightly aligned to general party political thought and beliefs, which they sought to apply in government. When they felt the temptation to strike cross-party deals or renege on commitments, they were liable to be met with accusations of betrayal by the party membership. Today, political ideas no longer emerge from within the party structures and belief systems. They are manufactured. Rather than referring inward to the party membership, politicians look outward to the general public. Instead of engaging with voters directly, however, marketing experts and political ‘consultants’ are employed to discern popular will. Policies are constructed and later marketed in exactly the same way as consumer products and very often by the same set of experts. The evolution of ideas becomes an essentially private form of activity, associated with a specialist elite whose primary purpose is not putting into practice any system of ideologies or beliefs but rather the shaping of policy for the mass market.

Ideas in the era of the Political class are therefore converted into weapons or tools to be deployed or used for tactical convenience. The key function is the denial of territory to opponents, the strategy of ‘triangulation’ first associated with the Democrat presidency of Bill Clinton and identified in particular with his consultant Dick Morris. This technique was first used, and with especially gratifying effect, in the presidential election of 1992, and involved a series of forays into Republican issues, above all law and order.

The over-riding purpose was the conquest of the central ground of politics, forcing political opponents to take up territory which could then be labelled extremist. The overwhelming aim of this form of tactical positioning was emphatically not to win the the battle of ideas. Rather it lay in the ability to lay claim to a positional victory at the end of the day.

Oborne leads on to an analysis of the cult of “modernisation” – devised by the Political Class as “a strategic device to distance the Political Class from what it saw as out-of-date or antiquated ideologies. It was meant to appear sensible, managerial, pragmatic, in touch. But in due course it became a powerful ideology on its own. It presented the British ruling elite with a conceptual structure which was based on a dislike of the past, a contempt for traditional institutions, a unique insight into the future, and a guide to ethics”.

Oborne’s thesis has not ceased to surprise me. Above all it is evident that the path trodden by our Political Class (the class of PLPN) is the very same that has been trodden twenty years back in the US/UK. It is all there… like some latter-day Nostradamus prediction. You will find all you need to know (and foresee) about the predictable activities of our Political Class – and sadly, you will become aware that the writing is on the wall as to our future development in line with very European trends of neutering of political values, aims and ideologies: in the name of a Polticial Elite.

Foyles Synopsis:
Both an extension of and a companion to his acclaimed expose of political mendacity, THE RISE OF POLITICAL LYING, Peter Oborne’s new book reveals in devastating fashion just how far we have left behind us the idea of people going into politics for that quaint reason, to serve the public. Notions of the greater good and “putting something back” now seem absurdly idealistic, such is the pervasiveness of cynicism in our politics and politicians. Of course, self-interest has always played a part, and Oborne will show how our current climate owes much to the venality of the eighteenth century. But in these allegedly enlightened times should we not know better? Do we not deserve better from those who seek our electoral approval? Full of revealing and insightful stories and anecdotes to support his case, and with a passionate call for reform, THE TRIUMPH OF THE POLITICAL CLASS is destined to be the defining political book of 2007.