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Moody Blues

The grumps come a-calling, so Margerita Pulè seeks refuge in San Anton Gardens


 
Moody Blues
Moody Blues
Moody Blues
Moody Blues
Moody Blues
Moody Blues
Moody Blues
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I’m in a really, really bad mood. Seriously grumpy. Holly Golightly had the mean reds, but I’ve got the violent purples, the nasty blacks and the vicious greens. I’m grumpy in every colour and shade you can think of.


A certain Miss Niki is partly to blame for my bad mood. At the end of summer, she sees fit to close Niki’s Nursery for six whole weeks. What am I supposed to do with the little darlings for six whole weeks? We’ve been to the beach; we’ve been to the shops.  We’ve played in the local playgrounds; we’ve played in the far-away playgrounds. We’ve stayed at home and we’ve walked the streets. I’m climbing the walls and I’ve got a baby on each arm.


This morning we’re off to San Anton Gardens in Attard, more popularly known as the park with the quack quacks. As you can see I’m spending my days with some real intellectuals.


First my husband annoys me. I suppose that’s nothing new. The kiddies aggravate me by being generally immature and doing exactly the opposite of what is required of them. They’re acting like children, quite frankly.


Next, the Maltese roads and drivers infuriate me. What is wrong with you people? Why don’t you indicate? Do you know you can still use the indicator and drive and eat pastizzi all at the same time? You don’t have to get up or anything; just move your little finger down a bit. That’s all – just your little finger. And don’t get me started on roundabouts.


So, deep breath, after a quick trip to LIDL, during which I become that-maniac-mother-who’s-dragging-her-child-to-the-checkout-by-the-scruff-of-his-neck, we’re there, but not even the garden’s serene and manicured surroundings can lift this cloud. It’s too hot. Then it’s too cold. I’ve broken a nail. What are all these French tourists doing here? Why aren’t we allowed to feed the ducks? I’ve forgotten the spoons for the kiddies’ yoghurt. Why do they have to eat so often anyway? Why do they think my name is Mama? I see my life passing me by ever so slowly.


The Malta Society of Arts, Manufactures and Commerce is holding a collective exhibition called Honours List, showcasing the work of past winners of its National Art Competition and Exhibition at the San Anton Palace. I handcuff the children to the pushchair; shove an organic rice-cake in each mouth and pop in to have a look.


What can I say; I didn’t dislike the exhibition in that it didn’t make me any angrier than I already am. I love Antoine Paul Camilleri’s sculptures; I even remember the Mother and Child ceramic with which he won the above competition a few years ago. Really beautiful. Charles Bonnici I also like very much. Both the sculpture and the man himself. He’s a lovely jolly Father Christmas and a hugely experienced stone sculptor. George Muscat has a few ceramics that take my fancy too, with some striking colours and textures.


Most of the paintings though, I could take or leave. There are the usual portraits and lots of landscapes, but to be honest most of them look like they’ve been copied straight from a photo. I don’t know if they have or not, and there’s nothing wrong with copying from photos necessarily, but the finished painting shouldn’t really look like it’s been copied from a photo. A bit of imagination goes a long way.


What else can I say? Collective exhibitions are always a bit awkward. It’s hard, if not impossible, to group thirty or so totally unrelated works together in a harmonious way. The artists have nothing in common, neither does their work; without a common theme it’s just a bunch of paintings and sculptures in a room together. It doesn’t say anything, doesn’t convey a message, the works don’t share a common subject matter or similar inspiration.


I’m still in a bad mood, and I’m not feeling generous, so I’ll say that the show mostly consists of the usual uninspiring, unchallenging stuff that we see in Malta. Breakfast at Tiffany’s it ain’t. But neither is it a dog’s dinner, because, like I say, some of the sculptures are beautiful, and some of the paintings are pretty dramatic. Not all of them, mind you, just some.


Back outside, I untie the wild things, take a deep breath and start back on the long road home.


 


 


 


 


The Honours List Collective Exhibition is at the San Anton Palace, Attard until the 26th of September, and features the work of Carmen Pizzuto, Anna Galea, Ivan Fenech, Zell Osborne, Aleksander Sasha Matic, Jude Zammit, George Farrugia, Winston Hassall, Charles Bonnici, George Muscat, Antoine Paul Camilleri and Sean Camilleri. Part of the proceeds from the sale of the works go to the Community Chest Fund. Bloody do-gooders.

 

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Mona Farrugia
September 21, 2010
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Claire
September 23, 2010
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Great review

 
 
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