Thoughts on Uncle Lino's House

I wrote a letter to a friend after finding out that my Great Grandfather's house in Zejtun, was to be sold. The house was so full of childhood memories that I felt desperate at the thought of never being able to revisit it, so in the letter I wrote everything I could remember - I was afraid that without the house to remind me, I would forget. 

On my next visit to Malta I was able to visit the house one last time as it hadn't been sold yet. But everything had been auctioned off and the remaining unwanted items sat in the middle of large empty rooms. I looked all over, hoping to find something I would remember, wanting to give some last un-auctioned item a home, but nothing was familiar. It was strange to walk around this empty and unfamiliar place, it contrasted so much with what I'd described in my letter a few months earlier. 

I took photographs. I was trying to record and preserve what was left. But they were photos of unrecognizable empty rooms. They only served as a record of what was not there anymore. Later I put the letter and the photos together, and a strange little book was born (Uncle Lino's House), some sort of attempt at bridging nostalgia and reality. 

A Memory Map of Malta

Whilst in London, I drew a map of Malta from memory. It was a way of capturing all my idealistic images of home from overseas. These would be erased on my return, by immersion into research and by the reality I would be faced with (which often is a sharper but less beautiful version of a memory). The map is distorted by nostalgia (homesickness), it is completely inaccurate.

(click on the image to enlarge)

As I drew it I began to feel quite uncomfortable. I started to realize that it reveals more about me than about Malta, and the thought of ever showing it to a Maltese person made me uncomfortable, for they would be able to read all sorts of things about me by looking at the map. The map shows the areas of the island that I know well, and hold dear revealing my social class, first language, clues to my family history, interests,...

Since this map is my version of Malta - and since I don't want the project to be completely from my perspective - I decided to get the map corrected, so that it slowly became the Maltese* version of Malta. I made 10 copies of the map and went home equipped with a tape recorder, red marker pens and a lot of time and patience. I would ask as many people as possible to draw their version of the map over mine.

keep reading the blog to know what happened next...


*I say "Maltese" for lack of a better word. I wish to use a word that does not in any way exclude people who live in Malta, or consider Malta their home, but are not defined as "Maltese". However I chose to use "Maltese" because it contrasts with previous versions of Malta that were presented by colonisers, because I hope to give value to the "Maltese" perspective by mapping it.

Approach

1. Memories and nostalgias of Malta will be recorded as a starting point to the project. This stage must be completed before returning to Malta in December, and before getting too absorbed in the project.

2. Research into traditional materials, crafts and building techniques.
Limestone; its material properties, the ways in which it could be adapted and the quarries that its extraction leaves behind will be studied. Traditional tile making techniques will also be researched.

3. Observations on Maltese identity and architecture will be recorded and made public on a Blog and by publication in a Maltese magazine, with the aim of getting feedback which will inform the project.

4. The memories, research, observations and feedback will inform design proposals, in varying scales, of several public spaces. These might incorporate some or all of the following; a promenade, swimming lido, public toilets, park, boat houses,...

5. Finally the project will be concluded through a public forum or exhibition.

My role as a Maltese émigré*

As a Maltese émigré I am different from other Maltese people: I have left the island and chosen not to return, as a consequence my experience of Malta is different to that of other Maltese.

1. I have a very clear idea of what I miss, of what makes me homesick when I am away.

2. On my return I am able to compare my memories with the reality I am faced with, and in doing so I notice change.

3. I am able to compare the state of the country with that of my new ‘home’.

My relationship with Malta is one of homesickness and frustration, a result of the differences between memory and reality.

Note: I wish to be cautious about being yet another colonizer, who arrives and assumes they know better than the locals.

*I refer to myself as an émigré, this is a French term that refers to a person who has “migrated out,” it often carries connotations of politico-social self-exile.