Back to the future

This is an extract from my diary that was published in 2050: The culture vultures of Malta were all in a tizzy; the first all-Maltese opera to have been written since Charles Camilleri's Maltese Cross, with an all Maltese cast, director, librettist, choreographer, producer, conductor, designer and soloists, choir, dancers, extras and orchestra. In other words, totally home-grown. Opening night had been scheduled for July 2012 to coincide with the inauguration of the new Renzo Piano open-air theatre built on the site of what once was The Royal Opera House. There had been a couple of postponements, one because the theatre itself was not quite ready and the other because there had been some problem with censorship. After a short court case the date for opening night was fixed for August 28.

"Stilla tal-Bigilla had started out as a play at the Catholic Institute, which had in 2009 been brought to the notice of the public by me. I was dubbed a great cultural snob because I wrote that orchestral music by Mozart and Schumann should not be performed in a place where only a couple of days later a play called Stilla tal-Bigilla was scheduled not to mention Żewġ t'iklieb u tliet għadmiet. Ostensibly, just to prove me wrong and teach me a lesson, the great and the good of Malta put their heads together and came up with the idea that a grand opera should be put together to inaugurate the open-air Piano theatre that I had had the temerity to call a joke in bad taste.

World-famous tenor Joseph Calleja was contacted immediately to star as leading man, Joey Fażolu, who was madly in love with soprano Miriam Cauchi playing leading lady, Ċetta ta' Valletta. Reuben Zahra, Karl Fiorini and Joseph Vella were contacted to come up with a score while the text of the original play Stilla tal Bigilla, written by someone or other - nobody could quite remember who - was given to Professor Joseph Friggieri to edit.

Meanwhile, Richard England was contracted to design the scenery and Charles and Ron to design and produce the costumes. The direction was given to Chris Gatt and Miriam Gauci. The conducting was offered to Brian Schembri who refused it and it was therefore given to Michael Laus.

Opening night promised to be perfect up to about sunset when the gentle mistral that had been blowing for a week suddenly nose-dived to a sirocco of monumental proportions. Humidity levels rose to over 90 per cent in half an hour. Still, undeterred, the great and the good donned their glad rags in their frigidly air-conditioned bedrooms and hopped nimbly into frigidly air-conditioned cars to make their way to Valletta.

After parking in the still roofless MCP car park, they very gingerly walked into through the new city gate and each couple was caught up in the strong searchlight manoeuvred by the sentry on the side of the gap that passed off for a gate, which would have looked like something out of Auschwitz had Christian Sant Fournier not have been there snapping away.

The new Parliament had been inaugurated a few months before and was looking splendid in its starkness and seeming fragility as it floated on its stilts. On the other side, every single balcony on the council flat block was occupied to bursting point. It was 7.30 p.m. and the sun was still high in the sky. The plush seats of the new theatre slowly filled up and all those who had not brought a fan or a palju with them used the large programmes to fan the perspiration dripping off their noses and try not to think of the rivulets coursing down their backs.

The Archbishop and the Papal Nuncio were greeted by the newly-appointed chairman of the theatre, Daphne Caruana Galizia, accompanied by the artistic director Lou Bondì. The Leader of the Opposition and Mrs Muscat, both beautifully turned out, entered the theatre greeting all and sundry followed by the Prime Minister and Mrs Gonzi, equally beautifully turned out, working the crowd. To the strains of Lil din l-art ħelwa, the audience rose as one as the President and Mrs Abela beamed their way down the main aisle.

Once the President sat down the lights dimmed. Michael Laus took a bow to thunderous applause. As the first strains of the overture filled the night air a peculiar smell pervaded the theatre. Wrinkling their nose the audience looked at each other helplessly as it became stronger and stronger. The Malta Philharmonic played bravely on. I could have sworn it was burning bigilla and was just about to tell my neighbour when there was a flash and a puff of smoke and we were plunged into darkness. How realistic for Stilla Tal-Bigilla; if a bit gimmicky, I thought, till I saw the President and Prime Minister legging it as fast as they could from the growing cloud of smoke that looked more like a pyroclastic flow than ever. So much for Stilla tal- Bigilla I thought as I scrambled into Republic Street with the sole thought that had this been a closed theatre we would have been grilled alive...

Tumbucktoo 2046