Issue link: https://maltatoday.uberflip.com/i/958047
maltatoday SUNDAY 25 MARCH 2018 Interview 14 By Raphael Vassallo Let me start this off with a random observation. If – for argument's sake – a nation's architecture says something about the character of that nation: what does Maltese architecture say about Malta? What impression would someone get about our culture, heritage, and so on... arriving here for the first time, and basing judgment only on the visual impact of our buildings? There is something to be said about the difference between ar- riving in Malta by sea, or by plane. Those two approaches offer very different perspectives on our built environment. For centuries, the only way to get to Malta was by ship: and what a sight to behold. The 'Grand Tourists' who came to Malta left some lovely descrip- tions of the Grand Harbour, and their ingress into Valletta, or to the Lazaretto [on Manoel Island]. And the recurring comment about our architecture was primar- ily concerned with the material: limestone. In the past, limestone was a continuous hallmark, or idi- osyncrasy, of Maltese architecture. Nonetheless, the material does have its limitations. If we're talking about buildings of a certain height, or to certain specifications... with limestone, one would need to have a certain thickness of walls, and so on. Today, that translates into loss of space. Also, limestone is much harder to handle than what we call 'bricks'... i.e, hollow concrete blocks. Hence, its loss of popular- ity in recent years. But with the de- cline of limestone, Maltese archi- tecture has become truly what one calls the international style: build- ings in Malta, built in the last 20 years, could have come from any- where, really. Richard England ex- ploited Maltese limestone in many of his buildings. He used styles which were continental European: however, they became what we define as 'regional modernism', or words to that effect. That makes it identifiably Maltese. Would you say that limestone is what distinguishes Malta's built environment from others, just at a glance? It is one of the most identifiable features, certainly. I remember a lecturer at University, when I was a first-year architecture student, telling us: 'When in doubt, just use limestone... and let Mother Nature do the rest'. Whatever you create will somehow 'homogenise' with the environment. There are, of course, also certain architectural elements that, definitely, in our vernacular architecture – start- ing with the early 16th century, all the way until the mid 20th – were completely Maltese. Probably the most identifiable of these would be the Maltese balcony. Some of these elements might be common to other places, like North Africa, and of course Sicily... and uncan- nily, they look as though they were 'borrowed' from a typically Maltese townscape, when viewed in that context. But in truth, it's the other way round. That is the beauty of architecture; and today, in a larger sense, the same thing is happening. Before, distances were much greater; today, distances are almost non-existent. So to return to your earlier question, about someone coming to Malta to ap- preciate our built environment... I would say – and this brings us to the critical situation we are in today – that the appeal lies in the ensemble. The streetscape, the skyline... rather than buildings in isolation. Of course, these might have an impact. And to possibly anticipate a question, I would say that today, we have construction... and then we have architecture slowly limping behind. That does anticipate a question, regarding the difference between those two terms. There's an aw- ful lot of construction going on in Malta right now, but much of it (in my humble opinion, naturally) seems devoid of any particular architectural consideration. We don't seem to be building anything that can be compared to the ar- chitectural legacy we seem to be simultaneously destroying in the process... Up to a point, there was always a certain amount of construc- tion for its own sake: warehouses, for example. Buildings viewed as 'machines'. And of course, there is the school of thought that says: 'Look, we don't build just to have pretty things to look at. This isn't sculpture; it's architecture. Build- ings ARE machines...'Even Le Corbusier, the father of modern- ist architecture, looked at build- ings as machines. However, in the same breath, he also said, 'It goes without saying that this is a public service we're providing: architec- ture is something that is imposed on the public domain, and it is our duty as architects to create some- thing that is beautiful...' But didn't someone else also say that 'beauty is in the eye of the beholder'? It might not be possible to build something everyone will agree is beautiful... but there are certain universally accepted conventions. Beauty, in a building, is not just about colour, or material... but also about proportion. These are things you learn in first-year architecture. There are forms which look beau- tiful to us, even if we don't know anything about 'proportion', or the 'Golden Section/Ratio' [a basic de- sign principle]. Like a seashell, for instanec: why do children pick up seashells on the beach? Nobody tells them, 'that is beautiful, but an ordinary pebble isn't'. It has a certain appeal of its own. The spi- ral of a shell is, in fact, the basis of the Golden Section. In a nutshell, that's how one can define 'beauty', in this context. But with Malta, because of our size, I think the main appeal of our built environ- ment would have to be the wider context. Of course, Mdina is still there... it is still very much a Mal- tese icon. Valletta, perhaps, too. But the greater context is under threat, and has been for a while. Now, it is reaching an alarming scale... Speaking of Valletta and Mdina: both are historic cities: one very ancient, the other around 500 years old... and yet they seem to have been designed with far more of an aesthetic sense than anything going up today. In Valletta, build- ings taper in height downwards towards sea-level: resulting in a gracefully inclining skyline, and views (and sunlight) for everyone. In Sliema, it is the opposite. How, then, did we lose touch with these basic planning principles? Sliema does, of course, spring to mind. And much of the develop- ment you refer to happened very recently. The older Sliema, how- ever – and there are still parts of Sliema which have been preserved – was also built that way: so that everybody enjoyed some form of prospect, view, fresh air, sunlight, and so on. But up to a point, what happened to Sliema had also hap- pened to Valletta. This is perhaps a little-known aspect of our capi- tal city: when I was doing research for the restoration of Fort Manoel, I came across many paintings and views of Valletta from Manoel Is- land. It is extremely interesting to observe how Valletta grew verti- cally... especially between around 1850, and 1930. There was a sud- Mdina is still there, and still very much a Maltese icon. Valletta, perhaps, too. But the greater context is under threat, and has been for a while. Now, it is reaching an alarming scale In the post- war boom... and, dare I say it, with Independence: when suddenly, 'votes' became the talk of a town... an imbalance crept into the picture THREAT IMBALANCE 'Architecture is limping