As the piece de resistance there is an aquarium curtain, with plastic shower curtains and real fish. Photo: Chris Sant Fournier

There is nothing indicating that the curtain exhibition at the Parliament foyer features work of inmates and that the aim of the installation is to promote social inclusion of prisoners.

There is no sign outside and there is no form of explanation inside, that 15 residents at the Corradino Correctional Facility took part in a sartorial educational project. Instead, when you go in, you see a row of 10 curtains, just like you would see, say, at JB Stores.

As it happens, the curtain material is supplied by JB Stores: the in-your-face labelling makes sure we realise that. The props next to the curtains are provided by the shop Etnika. We know this thanks to the oversized price tags on each one.

The commode next to Curtain Number One? That’s €225.

The cushion on the armchair next to Curtain Number Three? That’s €22.95, thank you very much.

Next to each curtain there is the name of (presumably) the inmate who designed and sewed it. But there is no information telling us why, how, when they came about doing this.

Oh, there is a big screen on the corner of foyer. Apparently on Monday, the day of the inauguration, it played a feature about the inmates, but I dropped by on Wednesday, Thursday and Friday, at different times, and it was always switched off.

Moreover, hidden at the back of this curtains installation, there is another exhibition: paintings by (presumably) another inmate. The paintings are all signed by a certain C. Ruiz but, again, I have to assume that he or she is an inmate because there is no panel whatsoever telling us anything about the art or the artist.

Thrown in next to the last curtain, there is a mannequin dressed in a gold brocade wedding dress, matching perfectly with the curtain borders. This was not sewn by inmates; it is a Mary Grace Pisani dress, so it’s a bit of PR for her. Ms Pisani is the designer, owner of Fersani Fashion, who came up with the idea of teaching-inmates-sewing.

Then, as the piece de resistance there is an aquarium curtain, with plastic shower curtains and real fish. I’m sure you’ll understand that I don’t have the energy to write about this.

What I want to say is this: this curtain exhibition is an insult to the prisoners who took part. If the idea was, as reported, to promote the inmates’ social inclusion by encouraging the public to make orders for their curtain tailoring, then it was the wrong marketing pitch.

It should either have been set up at the prison itself, serving to break the taboo of the location; or else mini-stands could have been set up at drapery shops, with the staff encouraging customers to book the inmates’ work.

The Parliament location will not get them many bookings. (Apart from the fact that there isn’t even a contact number to place orders). Not many passersby are stopping by to see this Mary Grace-JB Stores-Etikna promotion.

Sorry, I lie. When I was there on Thursday, one woman did come in. But she would have none of the business of having her bag scanned, scoffing at the policeman with a: “Se taqlibli l-qarabgħali biz-zalza! Ara tlaqt l’hemm”.

Also, the press said that 10 per cent of the money raised from orders of curtains will go to the Marigold Foundation and other inmate-related funds. If there are any orders at all, can we also know what’s happening to the other 90 per cent of the money raised?

Let’s be clear about this: if we want to highlight the plight of prisoners we do not have the Speaker during his opening speech, announce: “You should make good use of your time while in prison”. How patronising is that?

If we want to socially rehabilitate inmates we can easily look at ‘When you Hear their Voice’, the brilliant project carried out three years ago that gave inmates the opportunity to put up international-standard Shakespearean theatre at St James Cavalier.

My second point is that this is an aesthetically horrible exhibition. (Please note that I am not criticising the workmanship of the inmates.) The foyer of the Parliament is not meant for amateur installations but for top class exhibits. You want to feature prisoners in this space? Put up a professionally curated photographic exhibition of the life of inmates in their cells, for example.

For many years now, it has always been the case that when charity is on the agenda, aesthetics and quality are thrown out of the window. And everyone is scared to speak up and put a halt to this mediocrity for fear of being labelled Cruella de Vil.

This has to stop. Now. The Parliament building is a masterpiece in itself and we cannot leave it up to the Speaker to decide what to plonk there, however charitable the event. Clearly, this foyer needs a curator. Urgently.

One other thing: an opening exhibition is crucial because it determines the direction of the space. Based on this, I very much fear that the use of this foyer will be as follows: come Christmas we’ll have a crib exhibition; at Eastertime we’ll have miniature Good Friday vari; and for L-Istrina, it’ll be used to set up stands for a pot and plant sale. The perfect way to drag down the dignity of the place.

Please, I beg of you all, let us appreciate what a prestigious building we have at our disposal. Let us use it to stamp out mediocrity, not promote it.

krischetcuti@gmail.com
Twitter: @KrisChetcuti