Gudja Unveils Dazzling 1682 Masterpiece After €65K Restoration—Public Invited to Historic Ceremony

Gudja’s centuries-old parish church will throw open its doors this Sunday for a moment that locals have awaited for close to three years: the unveiling of the newly restored titular painting of the Assumption of Our Lady. The 10 a.m. inauguration Mass, celebrated by Archbishop Charles Scicluna, will be followed by a public viewing and a village festa-style reception in the adjoining piazza—proof that when Gudja does something, it does it with brass-band gusto.

The artwork itself is no minor devotional piece. Painted in 1682 by the Maltese late-baroque master Rokku Buhagiar, the large canvas (3.5 m x 2.8 m) has hung above Gudja’s main altar for 340 years, surviving Napoleon’s looters, two World Wars and the dusty tremors of nearby airport runways. But decades of candle soot, varnish yellowing and a damaging 1970s over-paint had reduced Mary’s celestial blues to a murky grey and left cherub faces looking bruised. Enter theBank of Valletta Foundation, which in 2021 co-funded a €65,000 conservation led by restorer Emanuel Zammit and his team at the Bighi studios. Microscopic swabs, infrared reflectography and a custom-built scaffold later, Buhagiar’s original palette—lapis-lazuli skies, coral pinks and flashes of Maltese limestone white—has been coaxed back to life.

“This isn’t just about paint layers,” Zammit told Hot Malta while giving us a sneak peek last week. “Gudja’s identity is wrapped up in this image. Every village feast, every baptism, every funeral has happened beneath it.” That sentiment rings true in a community whose nick-name, “Ta’ Loretu”, is literally taken from the Loreto litany recited before the painting each evening. For locals, the Assumption is more than theology; it’s the village’s visual soundtrack.

Mayor of Gudja, Franco Mercieca, is expecting hundreds of visitors. “We’ve laid on extra parking near the Ġnien ta’ L-Għassa gardens and a free shuttle for seniors,” he said. “The band club will serve coffee and imqaret, and the Gudja Scout Group has organised a children’s treasure hunt based on baroque symbols hidden in the painting.” Even the village’s football team, newly promoted to the Challenge League, will parade in their kits after Mass, adding a contemporary twist to what is essentially a 17th-century love letter.

Culture Minister Owen Bonnici praised the project as “another brick in Malta’s cultural renaissance,” noting that 35 church artworks have been restored island-wide since 2020 thanks to public-private partnerships. Tourism stakeholders agree. “Heritage travellers increasingly bypass the obvious sites for experiences like this—intimate, authentic, rooted,” said Matthew Pace from the Malta Tourism Authority. Gudja, often overshadowed by neighbouring Luqa and Birżebbuġa, suddenly finds itself on the boutique map.

The timing is symbolic. Sunday marks exactly one year since Gudja’s parish celebrated its 400th anniversary as an independent parish. Restoration committee president Marisa Micallef sees the painting’s return as a spiritual full-circle moment. “Our ancestors donated jewellery and livestock to fund the original altarpiece,” she said, eyes misting as she pointed to 17th-century legator names still legible in the sacristy ledgers. “We crowdfunded text-message donations. Different century, same devotion.”

For younger residents, the project has become a crash course in civic pride. Sixth-former Jake Briffa volunteered to translate the conservation report into English for tourists. “I never realised my own barber’s shop façade is 200 years old until I started noticing baroque details everywhere,” he laughed. Secondary-school art teacher Maria Vella is planning to bring every Year 9 class for sketching sessions in the coming weeks. “It beats PowerPoint slides,” she grinned.

The painting will be formally blessed at noon, after which the church will remain open until 7 p.m. with free guided tours every hour. Entrance is by donation to the parish restoration fund, already eyeing its next project: the 1761 wooden organ loft, currently propped up by scaffolding that looks suspiciously medieval. But for now, Gudja is basking in a rare moment of chromatic glory. If you’ve ever wondered what 340 years of village memory look like when someone finally wipes off the grime, Sunday is your chance.