Ten years ago, I opened my studio in Valletta. It made a change from Sliema, whose elegant buildings once enhanced its coastline. Tower Road and the surrounding streets could be anywhere today, and the anonymous buildings that replaced many of the houses and mansions are at times of questionable taste. But let’s bracket taste, elegance and style for a while, because the point being made here is the indiscriminate destruction of part of our cultural legacy – the architecture that once enhanced our lives.

Even if we never set foot in those mansions and elegant Georgian houses on Tower Road, they were beautiful, and we derive pleasure and joy in contemplating beauty. Today, they are gone for good, and with them, the sense of community that once made Sliema home has almost disappeared. The demolition of the past and the restructuring of our urban environment have not stopped there. This is evident in the current media debate on tall buildings that is raging in the summer heat.

Valletta is my home today and has recently been ‘discovered’ for its potential. As much as one welcomes the renovations and revival of Valletta on the one hand, this is also where the danger lies. Much has been debated: that there is no master plan for Valletta and that each building earmarked for development is being assessed on individual criteria. If this is the case, and not just hearsay, every endeavour should be made to ensure that the historical architectural legacy of Valletta is preserved above all other considerations.

A chorus of outrage after the event is pointless, and rivers of tears will never bring back what’s done

I question that very ancient Valletta buildings, some 400 years old, may be put at risk by neighbouring development. Just as much, I question a prospective boutique hotel owner attempting to build an additional two storeys, one of which is a penthouse for himself, on top of the very building he will be converting into lodgings for tourists. In this case, does plunging a narrow street into almost perpetual shade and negatively impacting the skyline of Valletta make sense?

If this is what we mean by Valletta’s ‘revival’, it is clear these issues have to be addressed, so that the goalposts are set in place from the onset.

We must ask ourselves what exactly we want from Valletta. If historic buildings are compromised because of development, make no mistake, we will be impoverished beyond monetary considerations.

This does not mean that no building should occur within Valletta. Far from it. What it does mean is that development should be planned to give Valletta further unity and significance and that what has survived of its historical legacy is given priority.

Alongside the restoration of historic buildings, development should not be done in random, piecemeal fashion but as architecture. And here lies the distinction. In addition to the above, development should not be permitted in Valletta if it significantly deprives other buildings of their amenity.

It should be the responsibility of developers to submit plans that do not violate that code, which interested parties will consult and then defend the rights of those whose amenity is at risk. This may be a determinative factor in the final planning decision.

The conclusion and the only solution I can see other than joining the ranks of the terminally outraged is direct citizen participation in managing Valletta’s future development. That requires something like an independent citizen panel that can scrutinise and comment on development plans, insists on concrete standards and will have the right to question developers and issue independent statements on whether the consultation has been adequate and the results acceptable.

A chorus of outrage after the event is pointless, and rivers of tears will never bring back what’s done.

Madeleine Gera, who lives and works in Valletta, is an artist who paints people.