The horses of Xwejni provoke debate

Gozo-based artist Austin Camilleri does not create work with the aim of being universally liked. Rather, his practice is grounded in the idea that art should prompt questions and invite interpretation, an approach reflected in his latest work.

The arrival of WIEĦED, a new sculpture by Camilleri at Ras ir-Reqqa on the outskirts of Żebbuġ in Gozo, has generated a range of responses. While some view it as a meaningful addition to the island’s cultural landscape, others have questioned its meaning and placement.

Reactions online have varied. One commenter wrote: “Maybe the artist could explain what he means with this sculpture. As it is, it’s just a confusing form.” Another remarked: “I can’t make heads or tails of it.”

Others have taken a more positive view. One commenter noted: “Whether one likes it or not is a matter of individual taste. However, every piece of art has its place, and when it is in the right setting, it is better appreciated.”

WIEĦED, which translated means “one,” is one of four sculptures selected through an open call for Public Art in 2021 by the Ministry of Gozo. It then went on to be commissioned by the ministry in 2023.

The sculpture hopes to “marks a bold intervention that rethinks the relationship between monument, landscape, and cultural identity.”

Sitting down with GozoToday, Camilleri said that he had “no ambition,” to aspire for grand things or to “take people to task.” On the contrary, he said he just “wanted to create a playful image, assembled via a process of sampling and recombination. I wanted a form which is both familiar and alien.”

He continued that WIEĦED does not offer a “single, clear reading. Nonetheless, that unrestrained openness remains important. It allows the work to evolve through the different interpretations people attribute to it, across time."

When asked about the mixed reactions his work was receiving online, he responded by saying that like his previous installing, his work “was never meant to be universally liked.”

“As a result, it is not the first time that my work has sparked controversy and debate.  I believe that it lies within the very nature of a good work of art to raise questions. The more it does and the more these questions hit at the heart of the matter, the better it lives in posterity.”

Camilleri said that artists know all too well that once a work is exposed to the public domain, it is, in a way, “intruding the collective imaginary of the place and shifting its perception. Resistance becomes a natural impulse.”

In fact, Camilleri goes as far as to say that misunderstanding can be productive, “while sometimes, proximity and time might also change perceptions. What I find truly intriguing is when a work slows people down to fathom it, as it creates friction or unease, because that’s where reflection can begin and hopefully create a temporary community.”

Some might remember Camilleri’s previous work, from 2014, the three-legged horse in Valletta called Zieme. That sculpture too marked controversy online, with many questioning the piece of art. Despite both pieces appearing on the surface to be related, Camilleri said that he was not “interested in creating works that deliver a fixed message or a closed narrative.”

“Symbolism, for me, isn’t about encoding a specific meaning. It is about creating a structure that can hold multiple readings, at once, at any given time. I believe there’s true value in a work that resists the clarity of standard narratives, one that asks the viewer to stop, think and spend time with it, to question it, even to reject it. It should be less about representing something and more about creating an encounter—one that remains open, unresolved, and shaped by the people who engage with it, over time.”

The sculpture currently sits out of the development zone in Ras ir-Reqqa. That as well, has some commenters online uncomfortable, but Camilleri does not see the backdrop as “passive.”

Photo: Sean Mallia

“Places such as Xwejni are never just 'sites' in the literal sense. They are accumulations of wind, salt, labour, memory,” he said.

Camilleri referenced Italian archaeologist and art historian Salvatore Settis, who he said often reflected, that “a landscape is not what we see, but what we inherit and, inevitably, transform.”

“One can identify a number of iconic public installations dotted across the European coastline and beyond, whereby art collaborates, at one with nature, in portending the true spirit of the subject matter.”

Camilleri continued that Wieħed’s form traces the contours of the coastline, the geological formations, and incorporates also what is not immediately visible, as it mirrors the submerged Billinghurst cave, lying beneath it.

“The final choice of site hinged also on a practical reason: it lies next to a road. No new pathways were required, no plinth or artificial lighting have been introduced, thus aiming at a project which secures minimal intervention, while ensuring the integrity of the public landscape.”

Must it match the curtains?

Speaking to GozoToday, former Manoel Theatre artistic director and artist Kenneth Zammit Tabona reflected on the controversy surrounding the sculpture, arguing that public reaction signals a shift in how people engage with art.

He noted that the piece has sparked debate and, importantly, prompted wider audiences to reconsider the idea that art must simply “match the curtains”.

Zammit Tabona was also critical of what he described as conservative decision-making in public art. “I am tired of decisions dictated by ‘men in suits’,” he said, pointing to what he considers missed opportunities in Malta’s cultural landscape.

He cited Aeneas by Ugo Attardi as an example, describing it as Malta's finest modern bronze, yet hidden behind trees in the Lower Barrakka. In his view, the sculpture deserved a far more prominent position, ideally overlooking the harbour from the site of the former Grand Belvedere.

Zammit Tabona referenced Camilleri’s Zieme, which he said succeeded because of how its placement encouraged interpretation and public engagement. In the current debate, however, he believed the issue is less about the artwork itself and more about where it has been installed. “The real sticking point appears to be the location. Why Xwejni?” he said. 

According to Zammit Tabona, public discomfort stems from deeply ingrained expectations about where certain types of art belong. People are used to seeing religious statues in churches or on street corners, and monuments to political figures in Valletta. When confronted with something that breaks these conventions, it creates tension. As he put it, “we are confronted with something that does not fit neatly into these expectations, a square peg in a round hole”.

This, he suggested, raised a broader question about public art and its place in the landscape: where should something unexpected, such as a pair of conjoined mythological horses, actually go?