Epokaliss Exhibition: The Presence of Absence – Portraits of Grief [Debut]

Debut Solo Exhibition | 03/11/17 – 03/12/17 [CLOSED] – In loving memory of Dr Jacqueline…

Foreword

When a life ends, another begins—a spectral life of absence. Epokaliss, meaning “the end of an epoch,” begins with loss and ends with transformation.

For scholars, philosophy, and language offer insight into the relationship between existence and non-existence, presence and absence, and how each influences the other—concepts well-explored in poststructuralist theory. Many people encounter this liminal space through history, film, literature, or even philosophy, from Plato’s Allegory of the Cave to Hamlet. Yet, those unfamiliar with Derrida, Plato, or Shakespeare may discover these same lessons through life’s ultimate teacher: loss. While readers of philosophy may be few, most people have known loss in some form.

The Point of Departure

Epokaliss wasn’t crafted to examine philosophy or social paradigms. Instead, it emerged as a form of self-healing. Following his graduation, Ramon spent a summer traveling, returning to Malta in September, where, soon after, Jacqueline Azzopardi received a cancer diagnosis.

During this period, Ramon also experienced the end of a five-year romantic relationship and the conclusion of his first post-university job. His home in Ħad Dingli felt like a crypt, weighed down by the absence of what could have been. Seeking relief from isolation, he moved to his grandfather’s old workshop in Birkirkara.

Amid months of renovations and managing legal and financial matters, Ramon sought solace in art therapy. This journey began with a piece titled WTF, which eventually evolved into a collection of 12 portraits—though one artwork was later withdrawn for personal reasons.

Navigating Loss: A Strict Atheist, a Queer Artist

Many people navigate loss by leaning into the comfort of religious beliefs. For those who don’t find such solace, loss can seem more ambiguous, leaving them with the uncharted weight of absence. Without religious definitions, the meaning of death can become a crown of specters, ambiguous yet ever-present.

Where do unfinished stories go—the futures that were imagined but never lived? For a non-believer, loss becomes a space of profound absence, evoking a need to fill that void. Epokaliss began with chaos—WTF—and the urge to escape. Religion, distractions, and other comforts can offer temporary refuge, yet they remain ephemeral.

Portraits like Stalletti and Distakk reflect this duality of distraction; they ease discomfort but only temporarily. Moħħ ir-Riħ adds the element of time, emphasizing how distractions, though comforting, can consume you if left unchecked.

To accept ambiguity and embrace the weight of absence is to confront the reality of death. When one acknowledges the end of a story, they can begin to write a new one. Now, the spectral crown, once a burden, is transformed into a new form, represented in the portrait Bilanċ, marking a shift from heaviness to purpose.

With Epokaliss, Ramon sought to honor this transformation—to use the ghost of what isn’t to celebrate the beauty of what is. Drawing inspiration from Maltese balconies and doors, the portraits reflect his heritage. Four portraits, the “Knights of Epokaliss,” are dedicated to individuals who inspired this journey and embody the spirit of this exhibition.

About Jacqueline Azzopardi,

I want to first start by thanking Dr Andrew Azzopardi, Dean of the Faculty of Wellbeing at University, for his article about my mother. He painted a whimsical but truthful picture of who she was. My mother was known by many as an advocate for LGBT+ rights, minorities, and by youths, as a charming lecturer with hilarious antics.

Like any other healthy mother-son relationship, we didn’t always see eye to eye. Despite her readiness to take on new challenges, her drive to protect me clashed with my desire to travel and explore. I watched her overcome many challenges – her first battle with cancer, separation, and the loss of her mother. But, she was never more scared than when I came out to her. She struggled with change – perhaps due to the challenges she faced in her life – but she always turned it around. With time, my mother looked at what scared her – my difference – and made it her mission to nourish and safeguard it both in her academic and political career.

She might have had her flaws, but she always pushed through with sheer determination. She often told me “Jien, li nagħmel, għalik nagħmlu”. Now, I want to do same to her through Epokaliss. She dedicated her political career to make Malta a better place for people to thrive in, and I want to do the same through art.

∽ Ramon Azzopardi Fiott