A small show in Valletta

The space was a former shopfront off a side street, roughly four metres wide, with limestone walls that had never been painted white. It was perfect.

Eleven works went up, most of them from Quiet Hours. Hanging in a narrow room forces you to think about sequence in a way a gallery wall never does.

“The best part of a show is never the opening night.”

What I remember is not the opening but the quiet afternoons: people stepping in out of the heat, staying twenty minutes, and asking very good questions.

There will be another one in spring. Studio notes subscribers hear first.