A waiter at a restaurant in the Maltese capital city of Valetta served our after dinner coffee, then placed two small white plates of halvah at either end of the long table. Over a period of five days I had become addicted to the rich Turkish confection made of ground sesame seeds, and nuts and honey. The grainy, fudge-like candy made the perfect accompaniment for a cup of strong aromatic espresso.
“That’s it!” I cried, pointing to the coarsely chopped chunks of tan candy. “’Halvah’ is one of those colors we’ve been searching for.”
Penelope, a travel companion, enthusiastically agreed. She and I had spent several days attempting to catalog the narrow yet subtly varied spectrum of golden hues which describe the rocky landscape and the universal building material of the Maltese islands. Crusader strongholds, Baroque palaces, hilltop villages, isolated farmhouses, and Neolithic ruins were all constructed from the bleached bone of the island chain itself, a variegated yellow limestone.
So far, our range of warm neutrals sounded like either a sweet grocery list or the cryptic choices one might encounter in a mail order clothing catalog: Crust, Toast, Caramel, Honey, Butterscotch, Biscotti, Maple Sugar, Butter Pecan, Cream. Every one of those subtle shades of gold can be found abundantly in the natural landscape of the Maltese islands, and upon the surfaces of millions and millions of native stone blocks which have been skillfully stacked, in a variety of manmade configurations, for more than five millennia. It is impossible to paint a picture of the Maltese archipelago without first taking into account the aureate matrix of the landscape and architecture, and the golden aura it radiates.
The other primary color in the Maltese archipelago is blue. The Mediterranean Sea and a mainly cloudless sky produce another bewildering array of shade variations of the same color: Powder, Cerulean, Aqua, Azure, Teal, Turquoise, Sapphire, Cobalt, Navy, Midnight. All these tints and more are found in wide sweeps of ocean; in the confined water of harbors, bays, and fjords; and in morning, midday, twilight and nighttime skies.
The Maltese crossroads is a study in yellow and blue. All other colors simply provide accent – a red flowering poinsettia tree here, a purple carpet of wild thyme there. In an art class I learned that yellow and blue are complements, which means that they stand on opposite sides of the color wheel. Red and green, purple and orange – these are complements, too. When a pair of complementary colors lie side by side, a phenomenon occurs: Each color seems more pure and vibrant as a result of the close association with its opposite.
For decades advertisers and political candidates have taken advantage of this color tool in planning campaigns. However, on the islands of Malta this color synergy is not contrived, it is a natural condition. As a result, everything in the physical world seems vivid and distinct The golden crusader fortress fairly vibrates between the sapphire Grand Harbor and the baby blue sky.
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