Prof. Victor Grech is well known as a paediatric cardiologist and a highly respected professional in the country. Such a profession would ordinarily occupy almost every living moment of one’s existence. He talks to Joseph Agius about what makes his world go round, once away from the daily human drama at Mater Dei Hospital.

I distinctly remember your great interest in the sciences especially astronomy and biology during our years as schoolmates at St Aloysius College. Was your choice of profession, initially as a medical doctor, dictated by the necessities of the time? Was it a heartfelt, pondered decision to pursue medicine?

Prof. Victor Grech

Back in those days, I wanted to pursue physics, specifically cosmology. I was intrigued by the big existential questions: Where do we come from? Where is it all going?  The BSc and BA courses had been suspended and the corresponding faculties disbanded, thus limiting my choice to medicine, as it was the only course offered at that time that interested me; a choice I don’t regret as it was a huge springboard to many things.

One can maybe surmise that your passion for cosmology was quenched by pursuing a second doctorate, following your first one in paediatric cardiology. Do you feel that your boyish wonder regarding deep space and its mysteries might have been the factor that triggered you to seriously study the literary and cinematic genre of science fiction, and hence paving the way to your second doctorate?

Maybe yes. Fiction is the willing suspension of disbelief. Science fiction, generally optimistic in outlook and pointing towards a positive ending, takes this one step further. Of course, Margaret Atwood is a notable exception. In proper science fiction, there is always a solution to any problem.

Watching Star Trek with my children, I almost weep knowing that we will never experience that post-Keynesian Utopia in our lifetime. The British economist John Maynard Keynes proposed that by embracing capitalism, notwithstanding its distasteful connotations, production would increase to such a level that we come to a point that we have all that we need.

Through mechanisation, automisation and technology, production would increase and, therefore, our everyday requirements would consequently become cheaper to manufacture. Thus, we would only have to work for our wants. This is what Star Trek is all about, a time in which all our needs are met, and it would be possible to better ourselves and humanity in general.

Watching Star Trek with my children, I almost weep knowing that we will never experience that post-Keynesian Utopia in our lifetime

That’s the philosophy behind science fiction, an alternative reality in which all races come together as expressed by Leonard Nimoy, who plays Spock in the celebrated series: “Infinite diversity, infinite combinations.”

In strict terms, anyone who embraces the philosophies of science fiction can neither be sexist nor racist.

Gene Roddenberry, the creator of Star Trek, was on to something smack in the middle of the Cold War. In 1966, he prophetically created a futuristic scenario with such protagonists as Kirk, the captain of the USS Enterprise , who is a typical white male, Spock – an alien for a science officer, a Scottish engineer, a Japanese helmsman, a Russian navigator and a Black female communications officer. I often wonder how he pulled that off in the mid-sixties. Roddenberry was against female sexualisation but had to compromise on the use of miniskirts on the insistence of the producers. 

He tentatively cast a female first officer in the first pilot but the studio was adamant against this. So, he settled for just one female role, Nyota Uhura, the Black communications officer. However, in later series, the doctor is a single mother with remarkable commanding abilities, a wonder woman. Things evolved towards more gender inclusion, reflecting the zeitgeist of the series.

When and how did your interest in art come about? You have an admirable knowledge of art history, besides being an art aficionado. Was it a general interest in art and art history followed by putting paintbrush on canvas to do your own art? Was it intended as a break away from the duties and the everyday difficult decisions of your profession?

I’ve always been interested in photography as an art form besides conventional art as in painting, sculpture etc. When I turned 40, I had this overwhelming urge to paint, an awakening. I had never painted or drawn anything. This must have been something similar to the religious calling a priest or a nun must experience. It was an all-consuming urge to paint which even stopped me from sleeping. I don’t know what came over me; I just was compelled to paint. I asked the late John Borg Manduca to teach me how to go about it. I had just bought some of his work, I told him that I liked his themes, his technique of using the knife to layer paint. He replied that he had never taught anyone, but he didn’t mind teaching me at all. It was a mutually suitable arrangement as he was very flexible, in both his teaching methods and the timing of the lessons. I was taught by a very nice, very flexible, very kind gentleman.

There is a marked thematic choice in your art. Do you find the sea as a calming world away from it all, even though you depict it in its different humours? Is this the reflection of your mood at that point in time? Was your thematic choice influenced by your tutor and mentor? Or do you need the sea to ground you?

I just love painting the sea because you can never paint the same sea twice. My style is expressionist, almost Fauvist. I use a variety of colours depending on the mood and I can get away with it by painting the sea in unusual ways and unusual colours.  And it still looks pretty, or so I’m told. I owe my choice of themes and technique to Borg Manduca. The palette knife is an instrument which I always use; it is like plastering with a trowel. In fact, the signatures are my only brushwork. The work is done with all surfaces of the knife, as John had taught me.

Which other artists speak out to you? Turner and Aivazovsky?

Aivazovsky is interesting but he tends to be too real. If you want to be so real, you might as well take a photograph. One of the artists who inspire me is a very old friend of mine, Patrick Scicluna, an artist who is versatile and flexible. I find his seascapes to be inspiring.

Your interests are so diverse. You even practise some form of martial art. Is this a coping mechanism of sorts?

I practise karate and Krav Maga. The long-term goal of martial art is that it staves off diseases, such as cancer and dementia, we may encounter as we get older. During the lesson, concentration has to be total, and this enables one to forget everything. One has to forget about everything that’s on one’s mind as otherwise, a punch from one’s opponent might land in the wrong spot. It is a suspension of reality for the period of the lesson. My daughter got me into martial arts; one day she remarked: “Dad your life sucks as you have too much routine in your life.” She enrolled me into both karate and Krav Maga and I was obliged to go as she had paid the lessons upfront. Being the miser that I am, I could do nothing else but go!