I was 20 I think when I first saw the Georges Pompidou Centre in Paris. And I remember thinking as I stood in square: “!?!”
It looked as if the building had woken up hurriedly in the morning and put on its dress inside out. I could not make up my mind on whether I liked it or disliked it: perhaps I did both in equal measure.
But what I can say is that I was truly fascinated. And to this day, to my mind, Paris is not the Eiffel Tower, but it’s the Pompidou.
Years later, I had the same reaction to both the Shard Bridge in London and the Nemo Science Centre in Amsterdam.
There is something common to all three Renzo Piano buildings – majestic, yes, but the architecture is not just one solid blob on the ground. It’s alive and it’s cheeky. They puzzle you, but the more you look at them, the more your frown turns to a grin.
You can see in Renzo Piano’s work a gentle soul, obsessed with detail, but which has a mischievous twinkle. And that is what I like about art: that it sheds light on its maker and stirs up emotions, creating connections which transcend physical presence and time.
Piano is officially one of the iconic 10 modern architects in the world. He’s up there with I. M. Pei (not related to I.M. Beck), the creator of that marvellous mirrored entrance to the Louvre in Paris and Frank Gehry, the master behind the playful City of Wine in Spain.
And yet, during the inauguration ceremony of the new Parliament in Valletta, we did not even hear one whisper of a reference to the imprint Piano has on the building. It could have been built by Lego for all we know.
This rude omission baffled me, and my consternation grew at the fact that Piano’s invitation to the inauguration was sent only a week before. A week.
I am no PR expert, but the way I see it from my little armchair, I would have sent him the invitation at least six months in advance, then sent him a private jet to ensure that he would be here on the day, in tow with CNN, Sky News, BBC – they are almost always here anyway these days. Now, that would have been tourist marketing, not the blooming Isle of MTV.
It’s pointless now crying over spilt milk. I am lucky, in the meantime, that I work in Valletta and can admire the building morning and evening.
Parliament gives Valletta a way to join the 21st century
I love, for example, how the new Parliament complements St James Cavalier. I love how the Cavalier seems to have grown in size, as if it has re-found its historic mission to be part of the city’s fortifications.
Inside, the Parliament building has an incredible sense of lightness. Wherever you walk, it’s full of light. There is no wrought iron in sight, no sprouting fountains, no farmhouse lamps. It’s simple, unpretentious, ageless.
Its minimalism, in fact, feels like sweet freedom for this cluttered island. I got the sudden urge to caress the walls, and by the end I was jealous of the security guards whose job it is to trawl this building every day.
When my colleague Mark Micallef had interviewed Piano in Paris a few years back, the architect had told him: “We don’t want to make a monumental Parliament... this is not the spirit. It’s about welcoming people, about having spaces that are not hermetic, inaccessible. We want people to get into Valletta and feel how open and transparent Parliament is…”
Which is why, therefore, this column is a plea for a public Open Day. It is imperative for this is not a building which belongs solely to the people who work in Parliament. It is my building. And it is yours. It was built with my money and yours and therefore we have the right to saunter inside and visit the chamber – at least for one day.
I don’t envy politicians for their job, but after seeing their new headquarters, I certainly envy their workplace. Brilliant environments are conducive to productivity and when surrounded by beauty, people are happier and give their best. Not only should there be student visits every day, but MPs should start competing with the MEPs’ Brussels tours and organise Valletta tours – anything to get the people visit it.
In fact, I am convinced that the building is such a thing of beauty that once people visit it, more fresh faces will want to become politicians. So please, give us an Open Day.
This building is an ode to style, grace, beauty and inspiration. Piano has brought back to Valletta something that had been dying: the art of elegance.
Not only this helps us bask in the appreciation of what the city already offered, but it gives Valletta a way to join the 21st century. It epitomises the new Malta: where mediocrity is stamped out.
krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @KrisChetcuti