Yellowing photos of operatic legends, press cuttings dating back to the 1950s pasted on cardboard and vintage opera posters line the Manoel Theatre's Isouard Hall celebrating the meteoric but significant career of tenor Paul Asciak.
He uses his walking stick to point out each familiar face as the names of international stars such as Maria Caniglia, Joan Sutherland, Maria Callas, Gianni Poggi and Dino Borgioli roll off his tongue.
The music from Puccini's opera La Fanciulla del West is emanating from a corner where a grainy black and white video of the 1955 show - where Mr Asciak played the part of Johnson - is playing.
"I'm very excited because we only acquired this video recently. It was rolled but never used and was held at the BBC's library. Malta's Ambassador Abraham Borg managed to get me the copy," he says.
At 86, Mr Asciak, the man who discovered Malta's best export, Joseph Calleja, is chaffed that an exhibition has been put up giving the public a taste of his accomplishments.
His only regret is that he had to retire in his prime, at 38, because in those days he had to focus on the priority of caring for his wife and three children and touring across Italy, the UK and Ireland was not helping this.
It was Italian soprano Maria Caniglia who launched his career on the international scene when she sent him a telegram soon after World War II encouraging him to further his studies in Rome, an offer he pounced on.
"In those days, trying to carve a niche in this area was very hard after the war and everyone made huge sacrifices. It's not the same for today's bright sparks who just dig their hands in their pockets and pursue their dreams," he says.
Going down memory lane, a press cutting stands out reporting how the young "Paul Ascià" won the Concorso per Giovani Cantanti Lirici in Spoleto in 1951. He laughs when he recalls that he was persuaded to drop the k from his surname to make it sound Italian.
"The contest was a national competition, which meant only Italians could compete. Changing my last name helped," he says, laughing at the incident.
Leading the way, he points to a glass showcase where an antique stage make-up box of grease in tubes, coupled with Crowe's Cremine to wipe it off afterwards, have pride of place. Alongside are the gold earrings he wore in Verdi's Otello and further down the hall is the original costume he used for the part.
"I'm happy people are still interested and I'm grateful to the Manoel Theatre," he says, adding how touched he was when more than 300 people showed up for the opening of his exhibition last week.
The exhibition is a collection of works he has accumulated over the years, including posters announcing an opening of an opera, which he sometimes nicked from the theatre's walls after the show.
Looking at the collection, he stops and thinks pensively about how he was at death's door just before Christmas when he was battling for his life at the hospital's Intensive Therapy Unit. "But I'm here now," he says, his blue eyes sparkling with energy and determination.
The exhibition is open until Tuesday between 10 a.m. and 5 p.m.