The prophetic vision of a donkey lover

In the epilogue to the two-volume publication Birgu – a Maltese Maritime City, published in 1993, the late Prof. Peter Serracino Inglott, affectionately known as Fr Peter, essayed a personal vision based on his family’s long connections with Vittoriosa, “a life-long familiarity with the city where my own family has multiple roots”.

Fr Peter predicted that ‘the first necessity would be to envisage as clear a picture as possible of what Birgu could become’- Lino Bugeja

The Serracinos in particular were a Vittoriosa-based family renowned for their fine craftsmanship in wood as evidenced by the exquisite organ loft at St Lawrence collegiate church, executed by Vincenzo Serracino in the late 19th century.

The Inglotts left their mark in various academic fields; perhaps the best known is Fr Girolamo Inglott, rector of the University of Malta (1826-1833) in the early British period. “To me,” muses Fr Peter, “it seems clear that the most luminous future for Birgu lies in the revitalisation of its glorious but sadly decayed waterfront.”

In the early 1990s, the state of neglectand desuetude of the Marina Grande, as the Vittoriosa Waterfront was knownuntil the departure of the Knights in1798, was definitely not in tune withits erstwhile role throughout Malta’smaritime history.

Its magnificent palaces, and other splendid edifices erected by the Knights as a manifestation of their artistic and aesthe-tic refinement, presented a veritable wasteland

At that time Malta watched with bated breath, consternation and alarm the decaying grandeur of Fort St Angelo known in the Middle Ages as the Castrum Maris, an enclave of European culture.

Fortunately in 1992 we witnessed the first spark of the gradual revitalisation of Dockyard Creek, previously known as Porto delle Galere, with the opening of the National Maritime Museum on the site of the British Naval Baker, an interesting building on the Vittoriosa Marina. This was a bold attempt at the regeneration of Vittoriosa and its environs which Fr Peter acknowledges, stating that the conversion of the former Naval bakery into a maritime museum “is a good harbinger of the potential renaissance of Birgu”.

Undoubtedly, this has been the first lingering step towards the protracted reawakening of appreciation of our glorious architectural past, combined with professional restoration which is reclaiming these time-weathered structures. One such structure was the Palace of the Captain-General of the Galleys, so expertly and magnificently restored in 2001 – a tribute to the Maltese spirit of free enterprise and workmanship – to house the Casinò di Venezia.

Increasingly, the image of the Marina Grande, with its great architectural heritage, is being professionally modified by a small group of contemporary architects. Of course, there have been some early screams of protest from the heritage lobby because they consider a relatively small façade near the stone bridge leading to Fort St Angelo as being incongruous with its baroque surroundings.

With the restoration of the erstwhile Knights’ Treasury and Bakery adjoining the elegant though massive structure of the Maritime Museum with its lofty spires, the magnificently restored palaces are an object lesson, totally in line with Fr Peter’s vision, on how to marry the historical with the contemporary, the aesthetic with the functional.

In his epilogue to the Vittoriosa book, Fr Peter also urged the invocation of the Great Siege of 1565, in which Fort St Angelo was a household name in many European cities through the siege maps, a collection of which is now exhibited in the National Museumin Valletta.

It is no coincidence that in the late 90s the upper part of St Angelo was admirably restored by the enterprising Knights of St John as a sign of appreciation of our glorious historic and architectural past. After many protests in which this paper played a prominent part, Heritage Malta has obtained the necessary funds from the EU for the restoration of the lower part of this famous citadel which once housed the scions of Europe.

Twenty years ago, Fr Peter predicted that “the first necessity would be to envisage as clear a picture as possible of what Birgu could become” suggesting the regeneration of “a hinterland ideally disposed to evoke a symbolically most fascinating watershed – the transition from the medieval to the modern age in the 16th century – in a context providing both the Maltese people and touristswith an exciting insight into a basic dimension of our identity”.

The vibrant city of Vittoriosa presents much more in art, architecture and deep-rooted traditions- Lino Bugeja

The recent restoration of Vittoriosa’s bastions and their unique three-gate entrance, the restoration and refurbishment of the imposing Inquisitor’s Palace, the only surviving inquisitorial palace in Europe, as well as the tasteful regeneration of the Collachio with its original auberges, namely the Auberge de France and the Auberge d’Angleterre, are perfectly in line with Fr Peter’s vision.

Of course the vibrant city of Vittoriosa, invigorated by a hard-working council presents much more in art, architecture and deep-rooted traditions. That such a small walled-up city can offer so much is an indication of its historical, cultural and architectural past so much appreciated by Fr Peter.

One suggestion that needs immediate implementation is the re-establishment of “maritime transport in the area as a whole”.

Fr Peter urged the then Transport Authority “to introduce high speed cross-harbour ferry services from several key-points”. He stressed that “the availability of such water transport is very important in envisaging the possible future of Birgu”.

• My close encounters with Fr Peter 20 years ago, as frantically we laboured to conclude the two-volume Birgu – A Maltese Maritime City, flashed through my mind as I watched the edifying funeral Mass at St Paul Shipwrecked collegiate church in Valletta. Then, a complete blackout ensued and the only “song in the air” I could faintly hear was the lilting song of The Donkey Serenade (from the 1937 film The Firefly) alternating with Mendelssohn’s incidental music for A Midsummer Night’s Dream, with the deep braying of the donkey, the humble creature born “when fishes flew and forests walked/and figs grew upon thorns”, so dear to Fr Peter’s heart.

Fr Peter’s infatuation with the donkey so often mentioned after his death last March 14 has a more profound meaning. During the funeral Mass I visualised in my mind’s eye not only the biblical episode of Balaam’s donkey but mostly G.K. Chesterton’s poem The Donkey, which earned praise and admiration for its profound imagery relating to the sufferings of Christ who, like the donkey was “starved, scourged and derided”. But the donkey also had the last laugh on Palm Sunday when it carried Jesus triumphantly through the streets of Jerusalem “with shouts about her ears and palms before her feet”. Surely that was the donkey’s finest hour.

Fr Peter’s affinity with the parish church of St Paul Shipwrecked in Valletta goes beyond the baptismal font. For many years on February 10, feast day of St Paul Shipwrecked, he celebrated an afternoon Mass at this church in English for tourists. What stands out in his homilies in honour of St Paul, apart from his profound spirituality, was his extensive knowledge of literature, particularly Homer’s Odyssey.

In one instance he invited the congregation to admire the beautiful altarpiece painted by Matteo Perez d’Aleccio in the 16th century. Focusing on the configuration of Maltese spectators on dry land Fr Peter brilliantly exposed his vision of Homer’s epic poem as a metaphor of life “within the more general metaphor of life as a sea voyage in epic tales from the Odyssey to Moby Dick. He further expounded his deep reflection stating: “It may not be wholly accidental that the island of Ogygia where Odysseus, interpreted by Church Fathers as a prototype of the Christian Everyman, had been shipwrecked, has been identified by many with Malta.”

In his spiritual assessment of the Odyssey as a metaphor of life, applicable to allgenerations, Fr Peter reveals his unbounded optimism namely that man whatever the adversities can safely navigate through life’s never-ending battles.