The Malta Independent on Sunday
Corona Chronicles: a dose of live music and a little more
One of the most cheering happenings in the last couple of weeks which brought us to our balconies, windows and out of our homes was the coming of 22-year-old violinist, Maria Cini to ‘the street where we live.’
Maria has been playing since she was eight-years-old and acquired the DipARSM in performance. She told me that although there are other musicians in her family however, they did not further their studies.
“During this quarantine period, I felt I could use this time to voluntarily entertain my neighbourhood with my music.” However, some neighbours didn’t like the idea and reported her and she had to stop playing in her home town. But, not one to be so quickly defeated she moved to other neighbourhoods around Malta and people were soon inviting her to go and play in their streets. “Although I was doing this voluntarily people still donated money but I felt quite uncomfortable keeping the money for myself. Although I don’t have millions in my bank account I am blessed with the little I have and can live comfortably so I decided to donate the money collected to Dar talProvidenza.” She had a good response and people were even more generous once they got to know of her objective.
So where did she play? “In a couple of streets in each of Mtarfa, Birzebbugia, Zejtun, Bormla, San Gwann/San Giljan, Mellieha, Marsascala and Sliema. I also visited some homes for the elderly. It was an experience I shall never forget. Just observing people enjoying the music, especially the elderly, who have been confined for some three months, unable to see their family, made not just my day, but my year.”
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We enjoyed her enthusiastic playing and sang along with a couple of the songs but especially Volare, Domenico Mudugno’s signature tune. She played a remix of Vincero, I will survive, Tarantella remix, We are the champions which Maria dedicated to all frontliners, Abba songs and more.
“I wish to thank everyone who supported me through this and especially those who gave a donation. The Dar tal-Providenza needs all the help it can get.”
Thank you very much to Brigida who informed us about it and of course to Maria who had the initiative to go ahead with it inspite of the initial discouraging reaction from some.
She is very happy that she has work for the summer months. A just reward.
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I write this for those who feel hard done by and keep on groaning on Facebook about everything the government does or doesn’t do and this in spite of the huge success achieved thanks to the leadership our government provided and the wonderful frontliners. Here is an extract from The Faber Book of Reportage edited by John Carey first published by Faber and Faber in 1987. It might make them feel a little more positive about Malta.
The report of the Irish Potato Famine written by the philanthropist and American advocate of world peace, Elihu Burritt (1810-1879) will leave you shaken.
The Irish famine, which we have all heard of if we are living in this world, was the result of a devastating outbreak of potato blight which began in Europe in 1845. Of Ireland’s population of 8 million about 1 million died of starvation and 1.5 million emigrated, mostly to the USA.
Here is Burritt’s report: “We entered a stinted den by an aperture about three feet high, and found one or two children lying asleep with their eyes open in the straw. Such, at least, was their appearance for they scarcely winked while we were before them. The father came in and told his pitiful story of want, saying that not a morsel of food had they tasted for 24 hours. He lighted a wisp of straw and showed us one or two more children lying in another nook of the cave. Their mother had died, and he was obliged to leave them alone during most of the day, in order to glean something for their subsistence. We were soon among the most wretched habitations that I had yet seen, far worse than Skibbereen (a town in County Cork). Many of them were flatroofed hovels, half buried in the earth, built up against the rocks, and covered with rotten straw, seaweed or turf. In one which was scarcely seven feet square, we found five persons prostrate with the fever, and apparently near their end. A girl about sixteen, the very picture of despair, was the only one left who could administer any relief; and all she could do was to bring water in a broken pitcher to slake their parched lips.
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As we proceeded up a rocky hill overlooking the sea, we encountered new sights of wretchedness. Seeing a cabin standing somewhat by itself in a hollow, and surrounded by a moat of green filth, we entered it with some difficulty, and found a single child about three-yearsold lying on a kind of shelf, with its little face resting upon the edge of the board and looking steadfastly out at the door as if for its mother. It never moved its eyes as we entered, but kept them fixed toward the entrance. It is doubtful whether the poor thing had a mother or father left to her; but it is more doubtful still whether those eyes would have relaxed their vacant gaze if both of them had entered at once with anything that could tempt the palate in their hands. No words can describe this particular appearance of the famished children. Never have I seen such bright, blue, clear eyes looking so steadfastly at nothing.”
All those years later and in the prosperous 21st century there must still be scenes like this in countries like Yemen, which immediately springs to mind.
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How did artist Jeni Caruana survive the pandemic and what about her painting reproduced here?
She told me that the painting is a mixed media piece, using the Covid-19 brochure that was sent out to every household, and acrylics on canvas, 50 x 70 cms. “It took a while to come together, as sometimes the figure was locked in, and sometimes locked out. I think that now it’s hard to tell, and I like that more. Some paintings take on a life of their own at some stage in their creation, and this one certainly did. I kept hiding it away and it kept coming back for more!
How did I survive? This has been such a strange time for everyone, but I think that artists and creatives were particularly well prepared for it in many ways. We work alone, not knowing if what we do will work out or not; every day, every piece is a new challenge. We lay ourselves bare every time. Being locked in my studio was actually no hardship for me at all; I have had one of the most creative and exciting experiences of my life. The internet was teeming with free classes and creative sharing and I have felt part of a huge surge of people from all over the world coming together to support each other in self expression. Without belittling the terrible death rates in other countries, the starvation and job losses, the fear and emotional upheaval or the uncertainty about our global future this pandemic has caused, I am sincerely grateful for being one of the lucky ones that could paint my way through it. “
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AND AS FOR ME: I am happy to have come out of this pandemic alive – so far at least; to have been able to indulge in a morning of shopping with my eldest and her little minx and to sit in the sun at the Ferries, one afternoon and enjoy a couple of hours with my youngest sipping an Aperol spritz while her two children enjoyed their milk shakes. We truly appreciated the time together. Freedom at last. And no tourists. What a blessing.