Kaxxa Infernali: Explosions is a new theatre project co-produced by Spazju Kreattiv and the Rubberbodies Collective by Jimmy Grima, exploring Maltese identity alongside a history of explosions. Lara Zammit speaks with the author and performer about the piece.

“It all started from this anecdote,” began Jimmy Grima about the upcoming theatrical piece Kaxxa Infernali: Explosions, authored by him and the Rubberbodies Collective.

“Half my family is from Qrendi, and when I was young, I was told we couldn’t go to Filfla because there are sharks and bombs there. I would ask about the bombs and was told the British would use Filfla for target practice in the past. That’s where the conversation would end, but I wanted to look further into it.”

Hence began Grima’s extensive research into the topic of explosions and their Maltese connections and connotations, starting from the British military bombings on the islet of Filfla off the cost of Qrendi.

“There is this other anecdote about how fishermen used to salvage some of these bombs to either use for fishing or sell to the quarry industry, and later for fireworks, because I was brought up hearing big bangs of fireworks and being told that those were made from gelignite from Filfla. Based on these anecdotes, I went to see if there exists any documentation that looks into this”.

Grima’s investigations began at the National Archives to see if he could find anything to support these anecdotes, such as police reports or studies, but could not find any such evidence.

“What I did find are reams of notifications from the British notifying the Maltese administration of their plans to use Filfla for military practice at such a time and place and advising that people should not go swim there. I did not find anything in relation to the Maltese stealing unexploded bombs.”

He then turned to the online Times of Malta archive and continued his search there. “I only found one mention from 1968 of a farmer who was indicted for being in possession of TNT, saying he had bought it from a fisherman for about 20 pounds,” recounted Grima.

In archives, researchers and historians attempt to retrace origins and beginnings in places of stored collective memory, but Grima is well aware of the limitations of physical archives. 

“I started with archives as a memory location but then I had to go back to organic memory in the form of my family, because they had been in Qrendi for three generations. I then started interviewing people, asking them what they remembered and what they knew. That’s where all the information started to pop up. The status of a rumour in Qrendi and Żurrieq and Siġġiewi is not of gossip or an urban legend, but fact.”

Jimmy Grima dissecting a firework.

From the living memories of human archives, Grima formulated Filfla as a place that “started and stayed in the work as a memory site”.

“It holds memory that is larger and more ancient than us,” reflected Grima. 

Grima then made the connection between the British colonial- era bombings on Filfla and fireworks, specifically in the tactics used by Maltese subjugates to subvert and redirect the destruction being caused.

“What was fascinating for me was that some Qormi people decided to go and take these bombs, the purpose of which was military destruction, and change them into fireworks, which is something artistic and for the community. That thread really fascinated me: this character of a fisherman or a farmer bringing these bombs from the occupying colonial master and translating them into something meaningful for the community, and this explodes the possibilities of meaning.”

I was really looking for silence from the beginning

This research forms the bedrock upon which Grima started working toward a theatre piece to translate this work artistically. The piece is devised as a “collage of sounds” since the human voice features prominently in it.

“I didn’t want to represent this material directly because that is not what theatre is for,” said Grima. “The piece is set against the scene of a garage in which there is a mixture of the archive, the lab, the explosion, the firework. Here I will be working with gunpowder.

“What fascinates me is that we always see the colours of a firework, but we don’t know what’s inside one. I realised that there isn’t much difference between the construction of a firework or a petard or a bomb. Only the outcome is different, but the history is the same – all basically gunpowder. So, in the theatre, you’ll see me working with gunpowder dissecting a firework.”

An important connection within the landscape of explosions is the link between these and masculinity, since most of the protagonists in these spaces are men. Grima described how this aspect was impossible to ignore.

“Most of the figures in the work are men – there is a firework master, my uncle, and then what we call the ‘choir of men’  – because I started to realise that I cannot ignore the fact that, first of all, I am male myself, and second, that this landscape is highly male-dominated,” said Grima.

Grima also made the connection between the stereotypical Maltese masculine figure of the ‘raġel ta’ ftit kliem’ (a man of few words) and an element of silence that inhabits the event of an explosion.

The piece is set against the scene of a garage.

“We decided that something we didn’t want to do is represent the explosions in the theatre, so you will not hear or see any explosions during the piece. Instead, we shall show what is important for us, namely the fuse and the silence (the before and the after of an explosion).

“Silence plays a very important role, which is how this raġel ta’ ftit kliem came in. This led to a psychological dimension dissecting the emotional character of the Maltese.”

Looking into how masculinity arises in the explosive domain of festi, Grima noted how fireworks and petards require a substantial amount of resources, all of which end up in flames.

“It’s about showing who’s in power. During festi, we’re burning a huge amount of resources in a small amount of time – thousands of kilos of carbon, thousands of hours – all made for the community and voluntarily, which makes us unique in the world in this respect.”

He also noted the huge sense of community in these circles of firework makers. “When they are working, it is very silent; they don’t really chat with each other. I compare them to monks in a monastery.

“Firework making is a very silent affair with not a lot of interaction, but then they stop and go have a tea together after an hour of work and they open up about difficulties in their lives,” said Grima.

Grima reiterated the significance of silence in the piece. “I was really looking for silence from the beginning.

“There is also the aspect that we were silenced as a nation by the British and that is something that manifests today in how we participate in civil society, how we do not voice our thoughts. We are living with trickles of generational suppression – this is another fuse. 

“I decided to start working on this because of the most recent Maltese car bomb, but I did not want to tackle it directly. Everyone was shocked by this event as if it came out of nowhere, but there were already a series of 10 car bombs before this and 176 homemade devices from the ’70s.

“With Filfla, we had destruction from the British we could disassociate from, but with the explosions of recent history it starts to hit close to home as the destruction is coming from us.”

Kaxxa Infernali: Explosions is showing at Spazju Kreattiv Theatre from June 8 to June 13.