There is nothing like Maltese fireworks. Pyrotechnicians worldwide have their eyes on Maltese fireworks. Many make the pilgrimage to Malta to see some of the better displays. And among a wider audience, fireworks are not only a draw to many Maltese but also one of the island’s chief tourist attractions.

Given these strengths, why does an influential section of Maltese society consider fireworks as a source of noise and chemical pollution, a nuisance at best and obnoxious at worst? The detractors are mostly the liberals (the chattering classes, the commentariat), and I wonder if their dismissal of fireworks is influenced by classism to what constitutes art?

Or is it part of more widespread disparagement of Catholic feasts and fireworks, and the perceived lack of sophistication of the proletariat and the conservatives that make the feasts and fireworks happen? Why else would the liberals, or the elites, fail to appreciate the artistry in fireworks?

Artistry – I hear you gasp.

Artistry indeed: pyrotechnics are Malta’s most accomplished and distinctive art form. The distinctiveness is in the prevalence of set-pieces – hardly anyone else in the world commonly deploys the multi-break colour shells and multi-break maroons (called beraq pront or simply beraq in Maltese) – as well as the sharp report in colour shells and the inclusion of maroons (otherwise called petards) substantially within the repertoire of fireworks in feasts. Traditionally, displays in feasts were mostly constituted of set-pieces and maroons; nowadays, the incorporation of these set-pieces in professional, computerised shows (as well as the sharp report of all shells) is the distinguishing feature of Maltese fireworks worldwide. These characteristics infuse Maltese firework shows with unique evocativeness.

Pyrotechnics are Malta’s most accomplished and distinctive art form

Maltese pyrotechnicians also excel in the vibrancy and range of colours – the colour schemes in colour shells are a mark of crea­tivity, the vibrancy of colours stems from a greater willingness to experiment with the mixing of chemicals. Unlike commercial factories that produce regular shells easy to make and market, Maltese pyrotechnicians are volunteers. Their crea­tions are a labour of love. They innovate with chemical mixes, fiddle with set-pieces as tall as a man when complete, they strive to make signature, ever-more-elaborate set-pieces. They take pride in their work. They draw attention to it with a bang.

Yet these are some of the same characteristics that provoke opposition. People who have no interest in feasts and fireworks consider the loud noise an intrusion, even an affront to peacefulness. Young children, the elderly, animals and birds, as well as those afflicted by particular sicknesses, are frightened or disturbed by the maroons.

So we get these regular calls: to ban maroons, to somehow limit the amount of fireworks in feasts (Malta burns more fireworks per capita than any other country on earth).

But banning, or even severely limiting the maroons, and reducing the loudness of the report of colour shells, would amount to voiding the stylistic distinctiveness of Maltese fireworks. In feasts, the loudness also has a practical function: the report of the multi-break colour shells attracts the attention of people milling in the town square, the multi-break maroons excite with their pattern of sound. And the maroons at the beginning and end of the procession with the titular statue is designed as a salute, something akin to the firing of cannons as a salute before or after military expeditions. It is something that arises from Malta’s militaristic history. You can’t extricate the loudness from Maltese fireworks; doing so would reduce the fireworks to dumb, dispirited displays of sorts.

This doesn’t mean the impact of the loud noise on those vulnerable to its effects should be ignored. Measures could be taken at the local level – bad choice of launch site and other incompetent decisions in some feasts exacerbate the loudness – and at a national level. Pyrotechnicians ought to experiment with ways to lessen the loudness without sacrificing the rousing effect of the maroons. Innovative alternatives could be sought in some instances. For example, instead of a battery of maroons as a salute, why not have a battery of firecrackers in the square itself, something that would be loud enough for those in the square but weak enough for people in other parts of town.

On the other hand, those who disdain fireworks ought to reconsider their stance. Maltese pyrotechnics are an artistic expression of our heritage. That includes an expression of the rivalry, exuberance and boisterousness prevalent in Maltese culture. And far from being uncouth, far from being unreasonable and thoughtless and obsessive (although they are finicky with their creations), the leading pyrotechnicians are among Malta’s most eminent artists.