When a clip made its way through social media showing tenor Cliff Zammit Stevens having ‘blackfacing’ make-up applied for the Manoel Theatre’s production of Rossini’s opera Otello, storm clouds appeared in the sky for a moment.
Is such skin-darkening theatre make-up offensive or racist? In 2015, the New York Metropolitan Opera had decided to no longer allow any ‘blackfacing’ in their own production of this work. Opera now follows the ‘colour-blind’ trend which has long been established in theatre and film productions.
Othello’s outsider status in Venetian society – not necessarily his race – makes him more vulnerable to manipulation in Shakespeare’s play. His position is manifest on the stage in his physical difference.
‘Blackfacing’ was associated with characters like minstrels in the US in the early 20th century, which was perceived to be offensive. The cultural context of this production here in Malta in the 21st century is, however, quite different.
The Manoel Theatre production seems to have taken the simple, traditional approach of trying to make the character more dramatically believable, as was standard practice over decades past at theatres in the US and the UK. The production took a stance that is out of synch with current trends, but the audience seemed quite unfazed.
I watched the show (which I thoroughly enjoyed) and in reality the ‘blackfacing’ seemed quite minimal. Perhaps it was toned down after the comments in the press.
It is of course true that Othello’s uncomfortable position in society, and his descent into a jealous madness, can be portrayed without offering suggestions of racial difference on stage.
It is also possible for some theatres, where the opportunity exists, to cast a black actor or singer in the role of Othello, but that could also be interpreted as a way of legitimising racial stereotypes.
Perhaps the most worrying aspect of this fleeting controversy is that the Minister of Culture, José Herrera, was drawn into it for a statement straight away. He rightly replied that he would keep out of it and not pass judgement.
Did we really need a government minister to rule on what is permissible to include in carnival parades?
But why was the minister the first port of call for an opinion, and not experts from the cultural sector? This is a symptom of the political malaise in our society.
The arts and media community want to, and should, work at a distance from political interference. To put this into practice, however, they should not immediately expect politicians to provide leadership on such questions.
In another cultural controversy this season, a carnival float this February had planned to target paedophilia in Church institutions. As the float featured the Archbishop as well as the name of a particular children’s home, it was considered to be potentially libellous and had to be modified.
It could be argued that carnival is political and social satire while opera is not, but it is unlikely that any racist satire would pass by unnoticed on any carnival float either.
It is not just a question of the law. It is not illegal to ‘blackface’ in the theatre, yet some people evidently may consider it to be offensive. It is not illegal to parade satire on paedophilia down Republic Street, but linking it to a particular person and place is a different matter.
The boundaries of freedom of expression are not drawn as fixed lines. Each case is different and depends upon the cultural context and resonances at that moment in time. All extremes are contentious – whether it is exaggerated political correctness on the one hand, or pushing the limits of unfairness on the other.
Yet again, among the first to be expected to take a stand on this controversial carnival float was the Minister of Culture. In this case, he intervened and did not allow the float to participate as first proposed. The bad effect that satirising paedophilia might have on children enjoying carnival festivities was cited.
Did we really need a government minister to rule on what is permissible to include in carnival parades? If the general mood of the cultural sector was that the float was acceptable, then that opinion should have been given some weight. If it was not acceptable, for whatever valid reasons, was there no other way to sort out the matter than to have a politician intervene?
A vibrant cultural sector should surely have some means of self-regulating and criticising itself, including through expectations, influences and informal networks. It should also be able to evaluate, praise, defend or criticise its achievements, standing on its own feet and largely independent of political patronage.
The arts have the power to challenge the political and cultural status quo and to shift boundaries. In reality, in Malta today, government representatives are constantly being invited to open art exhibitions, launch books, attend shows, give cultural awards and prizes, and so on.
What is the advantage of this widespread practice of asking government ministers to honour every artwork or performance with their presence, or to take decisions on every small controversy going? Laying down this red carpet for government figures is not imposed, but is driven by the arts and culture scene itself, from within.
This suggests that the cultural product in Malta is currently not particularly relevant to frontline social and political activism. The reasons for this are surely complex but, whatever they are, a tame arts scene is a missed opportunity for keeping society on its toes.