Requiem to monuments: the paradox of forgetting in a state of remembrance

How is it that our collective memory has suffered such tremendous misfortune in a matter of decades? I would say that we Maltese suffer from cultural dementia caused by inadequate exposure to historical knowledge, but I must admit that the problem is furt

It seems that our capacity to look beyond the momentary desires of getting something done in whatever shape or form has transcended all requirements for careful thought, study and engagement with the complexities of matters such as art and posterity. U iva, mhux xorta; the platitude that has become a force to be reckoned with.

The subject of this article, one which has caused many much grief the past months, and of which we were duly reminded with the recent hosting of a gaudy inauguration ceremony, is the monument to the Maltese who fought for emancipation. Fjamma li ma Tmut Qatt (Eternal Flame) eludes all words reserved for the critical appraisal of artworks for the simple reason that, hard as I try, it does not belong to its supposed category. Not all those who draw or paint are artists, just as not all those commissioned to make national public monuments are capable of doing so, sadly. I usually tend to choose subtler words to express my disdain, but when directly confronted with such a monstrosity, a feeble mass made of a contradictorily strong material, it is impossible not to do otherwise but send out a clear message on a treacherous ode to an eminent past.

Both purpose and form are confounding. Something that deeply irks me about this piece that is reiterated ad nauseam is its supposedly abstract form. ‘Abstract’ is a term many enjoy flinging around irresponsibly in the media and in public discourse to trumpet the modern character of an object, yet the boisterous attitude of its peren- nial use testifies to the contrary; if abstraction is the state’s visual proclamation of progress, a symbol of futurefacing nation, then we have absolutely no clue about where we stand in history, let alone in the history of art. Of the latter I am certain, because an inadequate representation of a flame does not make it abstract, it makes it bad. The oversaturated use of the term does a major disservice to those who engage with the history of abstraction and confront it sincerely.

Dr Giuseppe Schembri Bonaci underlined the danger of such public deformations; “...bad art reflects mediocrity, not only of the artist, but of the nation as a whole. It reflects the immature level of collective consciousness of a whole nation. Propagating bad art on a state and public level provokes a terrible state of affairs that would overflow onto other spheres: political, economic, diplomatic, and others”.

This statement begs the question of why and how this piece was commissioned and unabashedly installed with spectacular fanfare in a prominent location. Its presence is offensive but its existence all the more worrying. I believe that many are indifferent to the Eternal Flame because it inherently means nothing to them. So why erect it and spend so many thousands in the first place? The recent infestation of monuments bears witness to one inescapable argument posited by Giulia Privitelli, manager of the Victor Pasmore Gallery; “They are disconnected and detached from everything and everyone. What they do indicate instead, is the fragmented, indifferent nature of our time.”

So much bad ‘art’ has desensitised the public to it. Research will show anyone that we have casually and nonchalantly regressed in this field. Moreover, commissions are negligently being handed out to people who are not properly trained to produce monuments. This gesture is equivalent to asking a neurologist to perform openheart surgery. “Monuments are meant to be visual anchor points because they have something to say, lest it be forgotten by posterity” Privitelli said.

The notion of history is very much at stake here. Time it seems, our time, is carelessly fast-paced and dismissive of the past. As Schembri Bonaci puts it, this is a problem of ‘genetic mediocrity’: “Over the last 20 years and more we have seen and we are experiencing a tsunami of ‘rubbish’ art. That is what we are communicating to our future generations, and we will be punished. And it is not only the Eternal Flame that we have to worry about: street and roundabout rubbish, the De Marco and Tabone monuments, church intrusions in Baroque art, UFO architecture... we have been unfortunately flooded with such a mosaic of mediocrity.”

The “unfortunate bundle of cactus-like root”, as described by Schembri Bonaci, suicidally attempting to cast itself off the bastions incites us to become aware of our intellectual weaknesses. In this respect, it fulfils its purpose as an object of remembrance, though it recalls the undesired truth that we are still working to achieve the objectives of the post-Independence years. True autonomy, the type that Manwel Dimech incessantly fought for, requires unceasing effort; its nemeses are laziness and facile acceptance. Eternal Flame is proof of our continued subordination, of being trapped in the net of insularity that presents itself in the utterance u iva, mhux xorta.