Ian Ellis (Ed. Richard Ellis The Photography Collection – Vol. III Sliema and St Julian’s, BDL Publishing, Malta 2010, pp. x + 212, illustrated, hardback, €70
The complete archive of master photographer Richard Ellis runs into about 36,000 images, mostly on glass-plate negatives, spanning a longish period covering the years from the 1860s to the early 1920s.
The volume under review, in the series of books that can only cover a small fraction of this immense photographic legacy, is a very worthy addition to the first two publications that contained images of Valletta, Floriana, Grand Harbour and the Three Cities.
The reader is here regaled with 177 large photographic images of yesteryear Marsamxett Harbour area/Sliema/St Julian’s and, when just leafing through the splendidly reproduced pictures, one cannot fail to note the great changes (sometimes for the worse) that have taken place over the years.
The photographs are much more than just a simple exercise aimed at displaying the environment and the architecture of those times. Knowing what the Marsamxett/Sliema/St Julian’s area looked like before the drastic changes we have witnessed over the years is certainly a worthwhile exercise.
But the reproductions go even further than that: they also deal with people and a way of life that was completely different to ours. The details in dress, jewellery and furniture (to mention but three features) bring to life what living in Victorian and Edwardian times was really like.
And it is not just the upper classes that are depicted because we also have glimpses of the working people that include the milk seller and sea-urchin seller together with festa participants.
It is amply clear that picture researcher and photography editor Patrick Fenech went to great pains to produce expert, readable and coherent explanations for all the photographs; no mean feat when one realises the vast amount of work entailed.
The photographic parts of the book constitute an invaluable tool in the hands of the historian irrespective of whether they are researching architectural, social, military, economic and even religious aspects of our nation’s past.
Although the photographs are the main feature of the book, I feel great attention must also be paid to the contributions of Edward Said and Kenneth Zammit Tabona.
Said is an architect by profession who has played a large part in the restoration work undertaken in the Tigné and Manoel Island projects. For him this has meant deep research on these two localities together with extensive knowledge of the morphology of the Marsamxett region.
In his very well-written essay on ‘Sliema and its Environs’, Said manages to convey a coherent and well-illustrated insight into the architectural development of the area under review. This is a heart-felt essay written not just by a dispassionate professional but by one who is Sliema-born and bred. It is pertinent to point out Said also includes authoritative points about the Marsamxett creeks and the habitations/defences lining its shores.
Zammit Tabona, a well-known newspaper columnist and artist, is also an environmentalist at heart. His essay on ‘The Sliema that I knew – A Personal Memoir’ complements Said’s contribution because he writes about a way of life in Sliema and St Julian’s which has changed beyond recognition. He writes authoritatively too because he actually lived the times he is recounting and personally witnessed the changes which have taken place.
The way he traces the origins of various families, including his own, and their pastimes, is quite fascinating and makes compulsive reading. The essay is full of nostalgia which, nevertheless, is a very good contribution to understanding Maltese society of the time.
One cannot omit the excellent Foreword by Michael Refalo and Ian Ellis’s editorial note and his introductory ‘Sliema The Ellis Connection’ because they place the photographic sections and the two contributions by Said and Zammit Tabona in their proper perspective.
The book is excellently produced, includes a very good bibliography and index, while proof-reading has been competently carried out, though a couple of mistakes could have been avoided.
My only real complaint is that Maltese fonts should have been used for Maltese words and place-names. Sometimes, omitting a simple dot on a letter can result in a different meaning. For example, siġriet, meaning trees, is rendered as sigriet which denotes a secret.
All in all, the editor, contributors, publisher and printer are to be congratulated for producing a book that does them credit and is a very worthwhile addition to our ever-growing Melitensia.