To lift one’s spirits in the face of the unabated, destructive assault on Malta’s architecture and environment all over the rest of the country, one has to turn to Valletta and the Three Cities for relief. These represent ‘Old Malta’ before the greed and the jack-hammer of construction developers of the last 50 years took over, ruining a once beautiful island.

Although Valletta and the Three Cities have not entirely escaped collateral damage - since they too have been affected by unsightly development - the harbour area of Malta still retains the magic and  architectural feel of 1960s Malta and earlier, despite the world heritage status of Valletta being increasingly under threat from the abominations being erected on the Tignè peninsula.

The city of Valletta was born on March 28, 1566. As Vanni Bonello writes in his book, Valletta – Lost City, a wonderful and evocative personal collection of illustrations: “Superimpose today’s map of Valletta to one drawn 400 years ago, and the contours and extent will coincide.” But although its topography remains unchanged, you have only to glance at the pictures in his book to realise how much the city has been altered architecturally in response to the evolving needs of its citizens, its political masters and the imperatives of both military and civil progress.

Bonello’s key point is: “Cities grow, they evolve, they self-aggrandise, sometimes they self-destruct. In Valletta’s case the urge to self-preservation sometimes reached the lowest ebbs, but it somehow managed to avoid total extinction. As a living construct, and as a material entity, it survives.”

Like Bonello, I remember Valletta just before and after World War II. Despite the terrible war damage, it was quickly, if not always beautifully, restored (except for the Opera House, which remained a gaping scar until a couple of years ago). By the mid-1950s, Valletta was again a splendid, civilised, bustling, well-ordered and proud capital city.

Anglu Xuereb, an entrepreneur bubbling with ideas for improving the look and practical commercial attractiveness of Valletta, who clearly has a great personal affection for it, has come up with a number of imaginative suggestions for advancing the considerable improvements in Valletta which have taken place in the last 15 years, of which the Renzo Piano project is the epitome.

Xuereb’s 10-year master plan, Regenerating Our Renaissance [sic] Capital, contains a number of good ideas, as well as many which are driven primarily by business propositions. Nothing wrong with that. But one must seriously doubt that the sacrifice of Auberge de Baviere, Palazzo Ferreria, House of Catalunya and others to create five-star hotels is either historically or sociologically desirable. As to turning the Presidential Palace into a museum, or moving the nuns out of Valletta? I don’t think so.

The transfer of the monti to Ordnance Street is an abomination, the result of a back-street deal prior to the general election

On the other hand, practical ideas for cleaning up dilapidated town-houses, creating underground car-parks, subterranean tunnels linking the city to the suburbs, putting an 11pm curfew on live music in the city, the introduction of two free bus routes around Valletta to spread access evenly across the city? Yes.

The lesson I take away from Xuereb’s proposals is that a more practical, hands-on approach to giving the city life should be taken. But it must be done without losing those qualities that make Valletta so special. The government has a number of long over-due projects in hand: the regeneration of the old Jewish Quarter (excellent); the creation of gardens in the Grand Ditch in line with Renzo Piano’s vision for the entrance to Valletta (yes – anything but the present eye-sore); and above all the transformation of the revolting bus terminus and the creation of the Triton Square pedestrian area and its link to Floriana’s Biskuttin area (yes). All these will contribute hugely to Valletta’s renaissance. But more remains to be done.

I have just returned from visiting three outstanding medieval historic sites in France: Sarlat-la-Caneda in Aquitaine; Albi in Midi-Pyrenees; and Carcassone in Languedoc-Roussillon. Apart from their fascinating history and architecture, the attention to detail in the way the French presented their towns was most impressive: the impeccable cleanliness and civic pride; the supremacy of the pedestrian; the clear sign-posting.

The plans for replacing the appalling squalor and scruffiness of the present bus terminus and the ditch, the imaginative ideas for better parking facilities and maritime and transport links made by Xuereb and others, and the regeneration of parts of Valletta which have hitherto been neglected are commendable and should be pursued.

But there are also so many improvements that can be achieved simply by better management and a greater sense of aesthetics. Above all, cleanliness and control of the car.

Governments tend to look only for impressive show-piece ‘embellishments’ when attention to the basics – the so-called bread and butter, low-cost, issues – have a far deeper impact on the achievement of a greater sense of place.

For example, the striking and (that over-used, but in this respect accurate word) iconic Renzo Piano Parliament building is almost invariably flanked by unsightly metal, police crash-barriers. They have rightly been placed there for security reasons to control pedestrian access to the immediate area of the building. The need for security will not diminish. Why not therefore have properly designed, aesthetically more pleasing, removable wrought iron or stainless steel barriers placed there?

My second favourite gripe is to urge the removal of the totally inappropriate migration summit sculpture from Castille Square. I make no judgment about the skill or otherwise of the sculpture itself, which as a piece of modern art could well look at home in one of our public gardens. But I do question whether it adds to the dignity of that historic square.

Thirdly, the transfer of the monti to Ordnance Street is an abomination, the result of a back-street deal prior to the general election. A more grubby-looking entrance to Valletta is difficult to imagine. The high-profile events in store in 2017 when Malta takes over the Presidency of the EU, the ambitious plans for Valletta City of Culture 2018, as well as the touristic and cultural heritage implications of having what passes for a North African  souk or kasbah at the very entrance to Malta’s capital city should be decisive in getting it removed.

Grandmaster de Valette’s City of Palaces – Humilissima Civitas Vallettae – stands today 450 years after the first stone was laid as a testament to the combined work of such immortals as Valperga, Firenzuola, Floriani, Grunemberg, De Mondion and Tignè. But the original plans are those of Francesco Laparelli, who was Michelangelo’s assistant.

From 1568 the Maltese architect and engineer, Gerolamo Cassar, was in charge of the city’s buildings. He built with austerity and restraint as befits a military engineer, setting a standard of dignity and good taste which has largely prevailed.

Valletta is a treasure-filled city, a work of art – in the cliché, “a city of palaces built by gentlemen, for gentlemen” – with fortifications that are one of the wonders of modern Europe. Despite war damage and some subsequent modernisation, it retains the feel of an almost wholly baroque city of remarkable and unique character.

Together with the Three Cities and Mdina, it is all that remains of Malta’s authentic architectural riches. Are we its worthy guardians?

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