If and when we look back to various aspects of Maltese buildings, particularly those of the traditional Maltese house, we find that our forefathers, following millennial experiences, were capable of creating systems and situations that, at first, may seem to be almost insignificant. Still, they were of primary importance in their daily life and were often executed with taste.
As an example, we may refer to the impermeability of roofs, the cellar (kantina), the well, the courtyard (il-bitħa), the air ventilators (il-ventilaturi), the stonework and so on.
Nowadays, we use all sorts of modern gadgets but in the past, though these systems and situations were not so numerous, in their limited form and number they were of primary importance.
As to roofing of old, everyone is aware of the past system of waterproofing by pozzolana laid and battered mostly by women, known locally by the name of ballata. Today it is quite a different matter but in the past, with such roofings, one would immediately be able to spot where and why a roof leaked.
The cellar (kantina), apart from its economical provision of stonework from the excavated bedrock, offered refreshing air currents, especially during the hot summer months and the curbing of humidity through the air currents that flowed from the front door grills and on to the courtyard grills.
Usually, here stood the ubiquitous well that, apart from its provision of life’s most precious element, namely, water, provided other amenities such as that of preservation of some perishable foods.
The backyard, which is not far from being obliterated, also had its beneficial effects, such as those of better distribution of light, protection in inclement, tempestuous weather or raging hot summer days.
And speaking of summer heat, the ventilaturi provided for beneficial air circulation. Today, such amenities have all but disappeared because we all ‘fell’ for air conditioners.
Keeping on the theme of climatic mitigations, we may just remember that many houses had their arched openings (loġoġ), particularly in those areas where the house frontages faced south.
These arched openings provided shelter in winter but more so during the hot summer.
Windows were held in such high esteem that in the event of moving house they were carefully dismantled, transported and reassembled in the new abode
I am not advocating a return to the ballata of yesteryear, who, more often than not, accompanied their rhythmic beatings with some ballad song. But, where the well, courtyard, cellar and ventilators are concerned, why are they being systematically done away with?
In any case, to be more specific to our topic, let me turn your attention to a craft of past centuries that today is no more – that of window makers.
Originally, a window was nothing more than just a hole in the wall that was placed mostly in the topmost part of a house. When, in the post-Arabic period, civilisation ‘returned’ to Malta, mostly through Sicilian influences, windows became a prominent exponent of an important building, obviously focusing on Notabile (Mdina), Ċittadella (in Victoria) and the Castrum Maris that later ‘crossed over’ to Vittoriosa.
Up to this very day, we can still witness those few remaining windows, undoubtedly inspired from Sicilian sources, that consist of two vertical openings separated midway by a slender column, accompanied at both ends by two replicas.
With time, these developed more ornaments and delicate designs so that eventually the need was felt to organise a sort of class or school, or bottega, just for window construction. Presumably, this had a measure of success as these windows were ordered, bought and dearly loved by their owners and more so by their wives, who were ever ‘so proud’ with their windows as they expressed a sort of status symbol for those who inhabited therein.
These windows were held in such high esteem that, in the event of moving house, they were carefully dismantled, transported and reassembled in the new abode. A tangible proof of this practice can be witnessed on a visit to Vittoriosa where some such windows were ‘brought over’ from Mdina and reaffixed herein.
With the coming of the Knights, especially following the Great Siege, this window custom petered out with the introduction of mannerism and the later baroque.
Akin to windows was another opening, that of balconies that had to rest on corbels. If we have a look at some small windows high up above an old tower or farmhouse, our gaze may occasionally meet those two protruding stones always axially placed above the threshold.
With time, these two protruding stoneworks acquired a kind of folkloristic interpretation signifying a girl’s marriageable age when flowerpots were placed on them. This interpretation, romantically sweet as it may sound, is a mere myth because these were nothing else but an admonishing sign to any caller with aggressive intentions.
Undoubtedly, they were inspired from the same defensive stratagem of the old medieval towers scattered around the Maltese countryside which persisted even during the Knights’ stay.
So, originally a small plank of wood used to be placed above those two ‘corbels’ that precariously held some heavy ‘missile’ – usually block/s of stone, and in the event of any unwelcome guest/s the plank would be hastily withdrawn so that the contents would act as a warning sign or worse, at the expense of the unwelcome visitor’s head.
With time, these served to give birth to the corbels that had emanated from the Maltese windows. As everyone knows, these corbels were, and still are, important not just for their need to support a balcony but also, as any reader can testify on visiting our capital city, as they offer an amazing tour-de-force of past corbel decorators, carvers or even sculptors.
The second part of this article will be published next week. It will focus on a very particular aspect of the Maltese corbel, known as saljatura, and the covering of layers of roof tiles, known as tegole.