Lisa Gwen Baldacchino recounts her experience after attending the recent censorship conference in Norway.

There’s a man on stage. He smiles while narrating the gruesome and torturous happenings experienced across several stints served in prison.

Artists revealed how they, their colleagues, friends or peers were imprisoned, killed, tortured and abused

He has not killed, stolen or committed any real act of violence. Yet he’s considered a criminal. His offence? He is a creative, a practising artist; he is also considered a political prisoner of the Burmese Military Government.

Listening intently yet often incredulously, the participants attending the first world conference on artistic freedom of expression, were either humbled to a hush by the woeful stories told, or whooped willingly in acknowledgement of the courageous battles fought and won.

Organised by Freemuse and held in Oslo, Norway, the conference, titled All That is Banned is Desired, was a natural follow-up to the regional version held in Beirut, that went by the same title.

The recent and expanded conference, resulting four years later, presented a broad perspective of the struggles encountered by individual artists and their representative countries on a global platform.

The conference was held over two days, during which presentations, testimonials and discussions among some 50 artists and arts professionals unravelled before a crowd of 120-plus.

The conference was structured around specific themes, such as corporate censorship, religion and artistic freedom of expression, sexuality and art and the use of public spaces. However, the limited time devoted to each of these subjects was barely enough to scratch the surface, or to fully comprehend the complexities embedded in these realities.

The conference also touched upon a few highly sensitive issues, whereby censorship literally inhibits growth and restricts the formation of human relationships. These instances include censoring the right to grow – by stopping Cuban students from conducting research or from reproducing sensitive data as part of their studies, and censoring the right to love – by refusing Pakistani and Afghan women to roam out in the open, let alone participate in events or experience public spaces.

A couple of artists were not even granted a Visa to travel to Oslo and give their testimonials during the conference, while others have been banned from performing in their countries of birth.

It would have been interesting to learn how those artists who have met so much opposition and hostility, cope on returning home after being invited to or participating in international projects. Do they only meet such restriction and limitation within their territories? Or must they also suffer the consequences for telling their stories and showing their work beyond their shores?

Across the two days, artists recounted how their artworks were torn, burnt or destroyed; artists revealed how they, their colleagues, friends or peers were imprisoned, killed, tortured and abused... That is the power of art, and those are the lengths people and whole nations are prepared to go through to suppress artistic freedom of expression. “The Revolution introduced me to art and, in turn, art introduced me to the Revolution!” (Albert Einstein)

Unfortunately the conference did not allow any room for discussion, although this could have been inopportune due to the amount of hot topics presented.

It was, however, unfortunate that the organisers failed to proffer the perspectives of government agencies, ministries or arts councils, whose job it is to propose and implement strategies and policies to assist in the quest of artistic freedom of expression.

Despite any shortcomings, attending such a conference and representing the Malta Council for Culture and the Arts was not only highly beneficial but is also indicative of the council’s commitment and support towards this cause.

What became increasingly apparent while watching the images, short films, clips, documentaries and performances was Malta’s position. No matter the stance on censorship, it is a problem faced by all countries – to different extents and measures – and in each portion of the world it induces and arouses widespread curiosity, controversy, wrath, indignation or a sense of betrayal.

Censorship in Malta, or attempts at censorship in the visual arts, takes the guise of a phallic-looking public artwork; of a series of digital images fusing pornography with politics; or of the depiction of the Handmaid of the Lord wearing a transparent veil.

Perhaps we should ask ourselves whether restrictions or impositions on art and artists are related to public offence or whether we, as a country, are prudes – comprising a large number of people who abhor confrontation, especially where anything sexual (often coupled with religion or political/social comment) is involved. We have qualms about reading certain words, hearing them uttered by actors during a performance or seeing them graphically depicted in a work of art. What is it we fear exactly? Our very human nature?

Without going into the merits of the artwork itself, I fail to understand how a large portion of this country could so vehemently object to Paul Vella Critien’s Colonna Mediterranea, yet the same portion of people drive past the obelisk in Blata l-Bajda apparently oblivious to the fact that it is one of the most ancient phallic symbols in history. And this is just one case in point.

Perhaps American historian Henry Steele Commager said it best: “Censorship always defeats its own purpose, for it creates in the end the kind of society that is incapable of exercising real discretion.”

Now that censorship in theatre and film has been re-examined, artists patiently await the verdict concerning the literary and visual arts. Perhaps only then can we truly signal the death of ‘censorship’.

I utter that last sentence with discretion, seeing as the affliction from which we suffer is our collective inability to fully embrace taboo, resulting in many artists often succumbing to the lures of self-censorship. And that is another battle worth fighting.

Lisa Gwen Baldacchino is an executive for visual arts at the Malta Council for Culture and the Arts.