The Cloistered Monastery of St Catherine, Malta
Kate and I had arrived in Valletta, Malta the night before so had yet to see the city properly. I got up and went out to find some coffee, the benefits of being an early riser being you get to experience new places in the quiet of the morning. This was my first view of the streets of Malta, it was both very new and yet very familiar. The architecture has a Venetian feel to it, the narrow streets are lined with apartment buildings each one with ornate enclosed bay windows. I found my coffee and as I sat down to drink it I spotted a nun. At the same time I got a text message from Kate who was out and about and had also spotted nuns.
We were in Malta to take photos, but also to be tourists and experience the place. If you could do both at the same time that would be an added bonus and by now it was clear we both had an affinity for seizing a moment.
We returned to the apartment, Kate wanted to change and I needed a camera. I kept it simple and grabbed one body with a 35mm lens opting to blend in with other tourists. Kate put on a yellow dress and some simple shoes and we dashed out to the Monastery.
By now the sun was higher, heating up the streets which were busy with tourists. The entrance to the Monastery was a simple door off a bustling street, it would have been easy to miss it. We both felt a sense of urgency as we arrived, we wanted to get there before it got to busy.
Making an entrance
A woman greeted us at a simple reception and was happy to tell us about the history of the place. It was lovely to hear her enthusiasm for the building, but equally the tranquility of the cloisters behind her were a genuine distraction. She was framed magnificently and Kate and I were eager to get inside. At that point I think we would have both been happy just to look around and be true tourists. But I showed the woman behind the desk my camera and asked if I could take some photos.
She seemed to beam and was happy to let us document this place. She even pointed out how elegant Kate was, a silent agreement that she seemed to know we were not just here to photograph the architecture.
She explained the Monastery had been closed to the public for 400 years and only recently been opened. Before us only one other photographer had been inside and captured the building for the first time in centuries.
A welcome tranquility
Once inside the heat of the mid-morning sun was instantly replaced by the cool air that is unique to places of worship. The ground floor housed a network of columns and arches that formed the cloisters and framed an ornate garden in the middle. At the centre of the garden was a fountain who’s water was the only sound to break the silence. The walls of the monastery reached up to a perfect rectangle of sky that traced the edges of the garden.
The sun streamed down and bounced off the walls that were once painted white but the ages also revealed the yellow of the sandstone behind.
Kate and I couldn’t believe we had found this place, a stark contrast to the busy Valletta night life that greeted us upon our arrival the night before.
This tranquility was carefully maintained and it set the tone for the images we were about to take.
Monastic orphans
There was a curious abundance of chairs of various sizes. They were old and appeared hand made to suit people of different ages. This seemed out of place given our surroundings, but it transpired that the monastery had once been home to female orphans when the monastery was founded back in 1575.
The nuns made an oath to lead a life of prayer within these walls and it is said that the nuns who live here today could be the last generation to do so.
I had witnessed Kate connect with her surroundings before, but this was somehow different. Her black hat to protect her from the sun was instantly removed and she was suddenly barefoot. She appeared at one with the calmness of the place and her yellow dress became a fitting uniform for our surroundings.
It was as if she was meant to be there…
An unspoken agreement
That sense of urgency of getting here to beat the tourist had vanished. We were almost alone in this magical place. Ahead of us were an Italian couple and the only other two people happened to be the mayor of Valletta and the head nun.
It was clear any image we captured had to be respectful, this was an unspoken agreement between Kate and I. She would find a place to pose and I would quietly take a few photos and we’d move on. Any direction from me would be via hand signals, mostly to forewarn of the other guests who would want to walk past us.
We both felt very lucky to have found this place and knew this was an incredibly rare opportunity.
Away from the more communal areas of the monastery was a chapel and a number of simple rooms where it didn’t feel appropriate to take photos. It was nice to stop and just breath in this place and appreciate it’s history.
As we left I shared a few of the images I had taken with the lady at reception via the back of my camera. I knew then why she was so proud of this place and I couldn’t wait to review the images on my laptop.
That evening I edited and then posted one of the images on my instagram account. Kate joked that I wouldn’t get as many likes but I said I didn’t mind, it was the moment that mattered to me more. In many ways this blog post is a reflection of that. I take photos of things that inspire me, people and places and ideally both together. This little adventure was a perfect example of that combination and I just wanted to document that moment in time.
