She has been described as a diva and as Malta’s ‘Queen of song’. Yet underneath the charm and grace there is a will of steel and, when provoked, a fierce temper.

Originally published in 2000

With her commanding stage presence, one expects Mary Spiteri to be of Amazon proportions. Instead, she is surprisingly small.
“People always think I’ve lost weight, when in fact it’s because on TV I look much heavier.”
What she does have is fantastic posture (‘chin up, back straight, tummy in’ I lectured to myself as I tried to emulate her poise).

Mary had chosen La Favorita in Marsascala, but she hastened to assure me that this was just one of her many favourite places to dine. Situated just up the road from Sun City cinemas, it is easy to miss the restaurant because the name is etched out in limestone. Mary has been coming here for at least eight years.
“The food is what we call ‘genwin’ (authentic). The fish is incredible. And while it’s not a grand place, I like it because it’s cosy. It’s a family-run business: there’s Phyllis and Joe Spearing, and their children Anton and Dorianne.” Mary introduced me to the owners (‘good friends’) with the natural ease of a person who was born to socialise.

People, I told her, (particularly men) describe you as having style and class. Have you always paid a lot of importance to your appearance, even as a child? “Oh yes, absolutely. It’s almost an obsession of mine. When I’m on stage I want to appear elegant in one way, and when I’m going out, elegant in another way. Nothing out of this world, you know, but still elegant. Of course, if I’m doing housework, that’s a different story.”
Somehow, I couldn’t quite picture Mary on her hands and knees scrubbing the floor.

But once she steps out that door, she tells me, even if it is to run a brief errand, she makes sure she looks good. “It’s become a part of me now; it’s automatic. I wash and blow dry my hair every single day. It’s important for a woman to always look her best; to not let herself go. If you look good, you feel good.”

Soft-spoken Phyllis came to take our order. Mary knew exactly what she wanted: fish and no first course, as she would be coming back to La Favorita again in the evening for dinner. The pagell (sea bream) was recommended, with a side order of fresh vegetables, courgettes fried in olive oil, olives and roast potatoes. Within a few minutes, Joe came round with a trolley, displaying the fresh fish; a touch which those who are fussy about their fish will truly appreciate.

Mary Spiteri’s fervent support for the Labour party is common knowledge. In fact, she is probably one of the few entertainers who is quite open and matter-of-fact about her political beliefs. I took her back to the 1998 elections when, while performing at a mass meeting, just as she was about to sing My Heart Will Go On from the film Titanic, she decided, on the spur-of-the-moment, to engage in a little banter with the audience. You know what happened to the Titanic, don’t you?” she asked, her hand cupping her ear. “It sank!” the crowd roared. “Well, that’s what’s going to happen to Eddie and his party.” The audience went wild.

Reflecting on this now notorious remark, Mary has absolutely no regrets about saying it. “I was singing at a political activity for the party I support and love” she says with no hesitation. “If I had said it during a concert, or during one of my shows, I would have been the most ignorant, stupidest person you can imagine. But it was just a spontaneous comment, which was not intended to be cruel or personal in any way. It was political. I respect Dr Fenech Adami as a person, and if he reads this he knows that when we meet I always speak to him. At the time, however, I felt the Nationalist Party would not win the elections.”

Mary Spiteri was soon to learn that – much as she is loved by the Maltese public – for some people, she had gone too far. Some chose to express their disapproval by throwing paint on her car and scrawling vulgar words on the façade of her house. Others sent her cards with obscene suggestions, “in not very nice language” she says delicately with considerable understatement.

Speaking more with sadness than anger, Mary points out that this display of outright hatred is what she regrets the most. “If I hurt or offended anyone I’m sorry, because my comment was never meant to be taken as a personal attack on Dr Fenech Adami. On the other hand, I was hurt much more because it even affected my work.”

In fact, I had heard a rumour that her contract with a hotel had been cancelled as a direct result of the Titanic remark. At the time, I found it hard to believe. Incredibly, Mary confirms that it’s true.
She describes how the hotel manager phoned her to say that some customers would not be coming to the hotel’s shows anymore as long as Mary Spiteri sang there. “That Titanic remark…” he told her ruefully. The manager, afraid of potential unpleasantness, asked her to skip that night’s show, but she was outraged that a comment at a political rally could influence her livelihood.

“It was probably some foolish woman, a real miskina, the type who sit there all night, just drinking a coke while she watches a 90 minute show!” Another side of Mary was coming out now, as her voice turned disdainful and her eyebrows arched in sarcasm. Despite attempts by the hotel owner to convince her to return, her professional pride had been wounded and she did not finish the season. The following year, she was not asked back. Mary shakes her head in disbelief at how one little remark could do so much damage.
She remains steadfast in her conviction that she is entitled to speak her mind about politics, and does not exclude the possibility of eventually running for office. Titla sparata kieku (you’d be elected straight away), I assured her, using typical election lingo.

I decided to touch on another sore point. She was the only singer not to take part in this year’s Song for Europe in which all past winners performed the song which represented Malta at the Eurovision. So far, I point out, you have refused to comment on why.
“And I’m not going to comment now either” she replies smoothly. Well, it was worth a shot.

I was at the show that night and could feel the audience’s disappointment, especially since she had not even given permission for the video to be shown. Doesn’t she feel she let her fans down?
She let out a surprised gasp: “No! That never even occurred to me! Do people really feel that way? The thought never for a moment entered my mind (il-garigori ta’ mohhi) that my fans would be hurt. I’m sorry, you’re very nice but I have no comment. Maybe one day, when I write my memoirs…” Her hazel green eyes crinkle with merriment.

Just as she has always been frank about being a Laburista, Mary Spiteri has also been equally candid about her personal life. For the past 31 years, she has had a stable, loving relationship with John, who is separated.
To my surprise, she admits that they don’t even live together – she still lives with her 76-year-old father .

“I met John when I was just 21. I was engaged to be married to someone else and I called off the engagement. Of course, my family took it badly. Everyone kept wanting to know why I did it.”

Mary has never suffered the stigma which Maltese society often attaches to these kind of relationships. “Since we were always very open about our relationship and have always appeared in public together without trying to hide anything, I think people accepted it immediately.”

The glow in her eyes when she speaks about her man is something which one does not see very often, especially after three decades. She agrees that she feels the same way about him as she did when they first met: “It is as if he is the only man I have ever had in my life. Honest to God.”
She smiles the secret smile of a woman who is loved and who loves deeply in return. “There is an understanding between us, and even a kind of simplicity, if you know what I mean. How can I describe it? It is a beautiful kind of love; a love which is honest and true.” Her words, spoken in Maltese, strike a chord in me.

Because she has been in the limelight all her life, and is constantly lavished with attention, I assumed that John is not the jealous type. “Oh, but he is!” she contradicted me, giving a deep-throated laugh. “But I think a little bit of jealousy is important, don’t you? I get jealous too, tibzax! But we have lots of trust so it’s not like that fear or insecurity you have in the beginning. But a little bit of jealousy, yes…”

This is one lady who not only admits to being 52, but is actually proud of it. The fact that she looks astonishingly good probably has a lot to do with why she is so comfortable with her age. With her lovely bone structure and beautiful eyes, she has one of those faces which the camera simply loves.

Venturing into even more personal territory, I asked Mary whether the fact that she has never had children is painful to her. She tells me how much she adores children and how they are drawn to her in return. Once, a little girl walked past her table about three times, ostensibly to go to the toilet, only for her mother to come up to Mary and tell her “Please talk to her, because that’s why she keeps going to the toilet!”

She then answers my question: “I never wanted to have children without being married. And I’ve never had any regrets about my decision. You know how you meet people who speak with bitterness: ‘look at what happened to me, I never had kids!’ No, because I always accepted the fact that since I’m not married, then I didn’t want children that way. Maybe this way, I love other people’s kids more” she adds philosophically.

I manoeuvred the subject back to politics. Is it wise for an entertainer to be so irrevocably linked with a political party? Why not, she counters, in Malta people know your politics no matter what you do. She pressed her point further: “so are you saying that singers should no longer perform at political activities? And do you think that those who sing at PN mass meetings are all Nationalists or those who sing at Labour mass meetings are all Labourites? Some singers go to both!” (Mary was now in full swing and as I tried to get a word in, I could see why she would be good at politics.)

A vision suddenly came to me: Mary Spiteri singing at a Nationalist mass meeting…? “Never!” She exclaimed. “I’m not a hypocrite! Anyway they’ve never asked me because they know I would never accept. Frankly, I think it would cause embarrassment. Now, if it were a national activity organised by the government, that’s completely different, because then I would be singing for the whole country.”

Another ugly episode in Mary’s career was when she won the Song for Europe with Little Child. As she was leaving the Mediterranean Conference Centre, she was met by a crowd of about 100 people who proceeded to hurl insults of every conceivable nature. A lot of it was political (the 1992 elections had just taken place), but one or two were deeply personal: “I hope you get cancer” was one of the more malicious curses thrown her way.

Although she wishes to forget the incident and in fact, downplays it considerably, it is obvious that her joy at winning the festival that night was soured. “I ended up at the police depot because they were physically threatening me. One thing I am proud of is that I kept my cool, even the papers commented on the fact that I just walked through the crowd and took it all in my stride. I prayed to Gesu’ Redentur to please keep me calm because I’m afraid of my own temper!”

Yes I told her, I had heard about that legendary temper of hers. “Well, I’m very kind-hearted and am always smiling, but I have my limits. I was trembling and my heart was heavy. I thought ‘Madonna Santissima, did it have to happen because I won?’ It had been my dream to go to the Eurovision! Yes, they blackened it for me for about five minutes, but it passed as well.”

This ability to shrug off negativity is typical of Mary Spiteri and is perhaps another reason why her eyes sparkle and she seems so young. There is none of that angry resentment which so often makes people old before their time.

We talked a bit more about her temper. Difficult? I asked tactfully. Or aggressive? she supplied, more truthfully. “I try to be a perfectionist in my career. I’ve worked so hard to get to this point that if I start lowering my standards, it will all be for nothing. I want everything to be exact because people expect the best from me. No matter how good of a singer you are, unless you have good musicians backing you up, they won’t do you justice. And the one thing I’m fussy (fitta) about is the sound, and the orchestra. But that’s because I’m a professional. But for me to lose my temper (taqbiżli ic-cinga), someone would have had to make me lose it!”

While she admits she can be a ‘tiger’ in her worst moments, she also points out that her anger passes as swiftly as it comes.
Would she say she was a tiger when the crew of Tghid Giet Hekk Hux? played their candid camera prank?
“Mamma Mia, I assure you that if Malta had seen that film clip, they would have said ‘is this Mary Spiteri, who is always smiling?’ I think it would have done me a great deal of harm. I was very…angry (she chooses the word carefully and then amends it) ferocious in fact. When I tell you that I knocked that skip over (qlibtulhom)…well, that’s enough.”

She reiterates that her furious reaction when she saw that green skip in front of her immaculate house (she, who is so house proud!)…would not have been a pleasant sight for the Maltese public to see.

My final question brought us back to the Labour Party again and her well-known admiration for Dom Mintoff. “He’s a great man. He was great, still is great and will continue to be great even after his death. I have immense respect for him. If you ask me how I feel about what happened (the rift between Mintoff and Alfred Sant), all I can say that it was heart-breaking. As for Alfred Sant, I think he is a genius and will one day be considered as one of Malta’s greatest leaders. And I also have a great deal of respect for him and give him all my support.”

Spoken like a true politician.