Darkness at The Splendid

Darkness At  Noon was the name of a collective exhibition held at The Splendid in Valletta between February 6th and 24th. I was able to attend on the very last day. Crossing the threshold of The Splendid had been on my bucket list for years and, last Wednesday, I was finally able to do so.

The Splendid

My first encounter with The Splendid came around ten years ago when I was roaming around Valletta with my camera. I came across the word 'Splendid' etched in red paint on the doorstep of a dilapidated house on Strait Street. I was immediately curious and tried to hunt down as much information about this building as I could. The Splendid does not have very salubrious origins. In its heyday as an important harbour town for the Royal Navy, Valletta had a sizzling  and often-sleazy nightlife. The Splendid was just one of many brothels that lined The Gut, as Strait Street was affectionately known. But the murder of a prostitute by her client in the 1960s has ensured that The Splendid's notoriety is a cut above the rest.

So what, you may ask, were my first impressions when I finally crossed over those bold red letters on the doorstep and found myself inside? It's difficult to explain without letting the history of the place affect me. But I couldn't shake away the feeling that the air felt heavy, as if it was suffused with too many memories and too much pain. The arched hallway that I was standing in was bare, except for an upright  piano to my left. Hanging from the ceiling was one solitary lightbulb encased in pink glass that cast a rosy hue on its faded surroundings. In contrast, the colours of the patterned Maltese tiles were bold, garish even and they kept drawing my eyes towards them and away from the walls with their layers upon layers of peeling paint. Opposite the door, at the other end of the hallway, a short flight of steps led to a small landing. To the left of this, the main staircase went up to the first floor where the exhibition was being held.

Darkness At Noon Collective Exhibition

The title of this exhibition immediately suggests that something is strange, uncanny, and that the normal course of nature has been altered. Darkness At Noon showcased the works of three artists: painter Gabriel Buttigieg, ceramist Paul Scerri and photographer Charles Balzan. It was curated by Joe-Phillipe Abela and Gabriel Zammit. In an interview with Ramona Depares both curators expressed the wish that the viewer is challenged by the exhibits. They also acknowledged that for their vision to be effective a certain degree of unease on the part of those attending was to be expected. I did not listen to the interview or read up about the exhibition before visiting but I will share my impressions as best I can (even though I find it hard to express the feelings that any type of art gives me in words).

Buttigieg's paintings were bold, colourful and instantly eye-catching. His depictions of creatures from myths and literature that were interspersed with the human form reminded me of the surreal dreams we sometimes have and of the fairy-tales and legends we all grew up with - those stories that disturb us a  little but, because they are part of our culture or folklore, which we suppress into our subconscious until they erupt in fantastic dreams or nightmares.

Scerri's ceramics were more muted in colour. Each figure appeared to be fragmented, as if each androgynous image was made up of multiple parts.  There was a vulnerability about these ceramic figures that I found quite touching. Each one seemed to highlight the fragility of the human spirit in a different way.

I found Balzan's photos to be the most thought-provoking part of the exhibit. Each photo was raw and intimate, forcing the models to lay bare aspects of their humanity that are usually hidden under the veneer and layers that are necessary to survive in modern society and exposing their most primeval side. 

The Splendid As A Performance Art Theatre

After its turbulent history, it seems that The Splendid has found a new lease of life as a centre for  creative industries managed by FTZ (a non-profit organisation based at the University of Malta). As I walked through the few rooms in which the exhibition was taking place, it was clear to me that, apart from a good clean-up, the building has been left intact. The paint on the walls, the doors, windows and shutters are still the same ones that were there when the place was closed down in the late 1960s.  The rawness and bareness of The Splendid is not contrived and it forces the visitor to focus on the artist. In this space nothing else matters.

 

Or does it? Visiting The Splendid felt like an experience in itself. I came away feeling moved and rather subdued. I was not sure whether the uncanny feeling I had was due to the exhibits I had just viewed or because I couldn't forget the building's violent past. It is easy to conjure up ghosts here and perhaps I was guilty of doing just that.

For upcoming events at The Splendid, visit their  Facebook page here.

You can read more about the exhibition in this article by Lara Zammit for The Times of Malta.