A pink sky forms over the Grand Harbour skyline after what's been a fresh February day. In the distance, from the banks of the Valletta Waterfont, The Three Cities sit proudly, steeped in history. Across the harbour, in Floriana just before it melts into industrial Marsa, huge storerooms are repurposed as workshops for elaborate carnival float making.
After entering through the large gate and scrapyard entrance, a peek of the vibrant colour of oversized cartoonish fantasy awaits. The carnival enthusiasts are hard at work on their prized creations, adding final touches of paint and meticulously going over every inch of luminous papier-mâché with varnish.
The huge workshop is abuzz with anticipation for the five days of debauchery, silliness and joy that this time of year brings to so many Maltese, young and old. Festivities that we have grown up with, from our first hand-sewn pirate or princess costume to our first party trip to Gozo with our fellow teenage friends.
It’s yet another ‘first’ for James Azzopardi 'ċ-Ċaqqufa' and Bjorn Bonett 'il-Bonnet', who are launching their very own Carnival Company, aptly named 'ĊaqquBon' this year. 2020 is a landmark year for the young men, and it’s the first time they’ll get to show the islands what they’re made of with their carnival collection of five “maskeruni”.
It is a rule in Maltese Carnival tradition that on your first year as a new company, you start with structures that are carried, rather than floats on wheels, called maskeruni- or "grotesque masks". Once you’ve shown your true (flourescent) colours and make an impact with your work, you can then move onto float-making from your second year. It’s pretty safe to say that at this rate, Bjorn and James will be in the carnival scene for many years to come.
In fact, the lads have been in carnival circles for a while already, having worked with another company before upping and leaving to form their own. ĊaqquBon Carnival Company is now made up of a team of 17 helpers, including five dancer friends, who will also be hitting the pjazzez in Valletta for their first time this year. The youngest helper is Bjorn’s three-year-old son, who’s apparently a natural dab-hand when it comes to papier-mâché.
The two men do not come from a long line of carnival float makers, however. They are both first-generation enthusiasts, art lovers who got into the scene through their passion for making. Both working in Television production in their “everyday” lives, their passion for carnival preparations keeps them well-fixed at the workshop, where they work away tirelessly but happily for evenings on end, staying up till the wee hours on weekends where they construct, mould and paint their larger-than-life creations, excited for their big reveal.
For their first breakout year as ĊaqquBon, they’re hoping to make a big impression with their five maskeruni, all based on Maltese “qwiel”, or proverbs. They’ve interpreted these local proverbs into marvellous motifs and characters, making the old sayings we use to navigate our way through life into colourful cartoonish sculptures, detailed and delightful. After deciding on the final look of each of their maskeruni, the team construct the innards of the extra-large sculptures with wood, then further mould the space with all sorts of materials to give the desired shape before the outside relief of papier-mâché goes on piece by piece.
The relief you see on the exterior of the maskeruni is originally moulded in clay, and a pulpy papier-mâché mould is cast before being fitted to the outside of the structure. I’m told it is indeed more difficult to do this on the smaller scale the team are working with. The smaller-scale moulds are indefinitely more detailed in the first year, before moving onto the huge scales of carnival floats.
The monotone newspaper lumps and bumps are then sprayed into oblivion with flouro tones to make the crowds go wow. The team use air compressor sprays to achieve an expert graffiti master style of painting for their maskeruni, which open up to reveal a hollow shell with two arm-holes, which will eventually act as a “backpack” for the carnival carrier who’s job it is to lift the structure up for the masses come the weekend.
Feet must be visible at all times once they’re on show during performance, another rule. So it’s the team’s job to strike a balance between their elaborate fantasies while also making sure it can be lifted and twirled around without breaking any backs in the process.
ĊaqquBon Carnival Company happen to work in the presence of a certain Norman Hill, nicknamed "iċ-Ċiċċo". A well known face and name in the Carnival circuit, being the creator of 35 years’ worth of carnival floats. Iċ-Ċiċċo is the proud owner of Malta’s biggest collection of trophies for his commitment to the festivities, and his wins over the years are immortalised in large shiny prized cups which watch over the workshop from a high glass cabinet. He kindly invited the keen young carnival enthusiasts to share his space, watching them grow skilled in the process.
Now retired from his carnival float years, he still works on the odd float commissioned by culture programs. At the moment he’s just finished work on a life-sized oriental gazebo float for the Chinese Embassy, complete with hundreds of lightbulbs and looking straight out of Chinatown, albeit standing tall in a Floriana warehouse.
A tiny terrier paces around the workshop, winding between the shared creative space of iċ-Ċiċċo and the ĊaqquBon team who are all busy perfecting their soon to be revealed sensations. “L-Iljun” the tiny terrier is their mascot, I’m told with a smile. And I don’t think there’s anywhere the little lion would rather be.
Once the dust has settled come the strike of Lent, the team will once again start mentally preparing for next year’s celebrations. Come June, they’ll be at it again - sketching, sculpting and spraying their wildest dreams into life. The late nights and daybreak starts will resume. As it goes in the Maltese proverb now come to life in papier-mâché by the ĊaqquBon lads, “Min jorqod ma jaqbadx ħut!”