Peter Farrugia meets Prevarti’s head restorer, Pierre Bugeja, to explore the restoration underway on one of Malta’s finest devotional paintings.

Detail of Erardi’s painting. Photos: Darrin Zammit Lupi

Entering the Prevarti premises is like walking into Aladdin’s cave – there’s the shimmer of gold-leaf in one corner, the smell of varnish, the glint of mirrors with heavy baroque frames awaiting repair, and the sure sense that these people know exactly what they are about.

It’s important to have local restorers because of the materials we use that are so specific to Malta

Each of their highly qualified restorers was busily at work in a variety of media, on paintings and sculptures from various periods.

Prevarti’s head restorer, Pierre Bugeja, arranged my tour around the space and explained the unique importance of their most intriguing restoration project to date (sponsored by the Bank of Valletta).

The Virgin of Divine Grace (titular painting at the Capuchins church in Victoria) is definitively attributed to Maltese master painter Stefano Erardi (1630–1716) in devotion to the Virgin after a massive earthquake that damaged buildings, but claimed no lives.

The painting was commissioned by the Canons of the Cathedral of Gozo and over the years has been retouched by various painters, including Rocco Buhagiar and Paul Camilleri Cauchi.

The painting depicts the Madonna and Child surrounded by several putti, above a retinue of cotta-clad priests. The original canvas was subsequently enlarged and a figure of God the Father, all beard and bluster, was added by some (unfortunately) less talented artist.

The landscape depicted below the Virgin is the hilly area called Forn il-Ġir, and the church itself presents a wonderful record of the original medieval chapel that has since been replaced.

Time has inexorably taken its toll on the canvas, and Bugeja was happy to point out the highs and lows of its history.

“Structurally speaking,” he said, “the canvas was in a bad condition with a lot of repainting. Recent overpainting is easier to remove but older work is far more difficult, because of chemical similarities between the paints. Puncture marks left by the Virgin’s crown (a piece of silverware directly attached to the canvas) were especially difficult.”

The story of the crowns is a mystery of its own. They were affixed to the canvas in the 1950s, right above the heads of the Virgin and Child, first as golden coronets. The precious objects were stolen and subsequently replaced by silver crowns that didn’t survive long before being stolen too.

“Our aim is to return the canvas to the highest quality possible,” said Bugeja, resting against the large machine that’s used to speed up varnish drying-time.

“We use procedures and tools that are unique to Prevarti. We’re like a ‘one stop shop’ for this kind of work, along with our sister company Salvarti, which specialises in disinfestation.”

Inaugurated in June of last year by the Prime Minister Lawrence Gonzi, Prevarti’s art conservation centre represents an important element in Malta’s effort to locally address restoration work, in both private and public sectors.

They have carried out commissions for the Lija and Balzan parishes, completed restoration in Our Lady of Victories church, Valletta and, of special interest, Paladini’s Mannerist work in the Grandmaster’s Palace chapel.

While the government is reluctant to offer commissions outside Heritage Malta, the private sector maintains a competitive edge. However, it seems clear that the future of restoration in Malta has been dealt a heavy blow by the closure of university restoration courses, and that’s presented a problem for the industry.

“A real problem is that there is no recognised warrant,” said Bugeja. “Some people have no training and don’t know what they’re doing, and a lot of paintings come in with amateur jobs already done on them. We maintain total contact with our clients, so they can be aware of the process, but many people who try to pass themselves off as ‘restorers’ are less scrupulous. I prefer a dirty, torn painting to one that has been inferiorly restored.”

Bugeja’s passion is clear, and his insistence that warrants must become compulsory, that restrictions be enforced and qualification standards de rigueur, seems all the more urgent considering the priceless examples of Maltese and foreign art in private collections across the island. The risk that botch jobs could be carried out on these treasures by exploitative people passing themselves off as restorers doesn’t bear thinking about.

“It’s also important to have local restorers because of the materials we use that are so specific to Malta. Learning how to use them becomes part of working on the island. And it is very important to keep records of all the work. Ultimately, it’s a historical record.”

With restoration on the painting scheduled to be finished by the end of September, it will be pleasure to see the finished canvas returned to the church.

There’s always something disorienting about devotional images seen outside their context (religious artworks in museums always feel a little forlorn), and the excitement expressed by the Gozitan parishioners is probably the best reason why people like Bugeja, and companies like Prevarti, must be encouraged in their work.

It’s the tenuous threads that link us to a heritage at once ephemeral and made so much more present by the preservation of these special objects, and only expert hands could truly do justice to the beauty of Malta’s many treasures.