In just a few days, the 60th Venice Biennale will end, and I feel lucky to have visited it not once but twice: I experienced the bustling opening week and returned in November before its closure. It was certainly worth making the trip on two occasions, as this year’s Biennale has proven to be both intense and enriching.
Curated by Adriano Pedrosa, the first Latin American to helm the Venice Biennale, this 60th edition was a vibrant and diverse tableau, occasionally overwhelming, with an impressive roster of 331 artists. Pedrosa championed underrepresented voices, particularly from the Global South, including Latin American, Indigenous, queer, and so-called “Outsider” artists, under the provocative theme “Stranieri Ovunque—Foreigners Everywhere.” This phrase references an ongoing piece by the Palermo-based artist duo “Claire Fontaine,” whose pseudonym cleverly borrows from the famous French stationery brand and is known for readymade works. However, the title has stirred controversy, particularly after comments from Anish Kapoor that suggest a connection to neo-fascist rhetoric.
Among my favourite pieces was “The Mapping Journey Project” by Moroccan artist Bouchra Khalili, displayed in the Arsenale. This series features eight large video projections that tell the poignant stories of migrants from Africa, the Middle East, and South Asia. I vividly remember attending a talk by Khalili years ago at the Lisson Gallery in London, where she described meeting migrants at train stations. Each video shares a narrative of their perilous journeys across the Mediterranean in search of a better life, resonating deeply with themes of humanity and resilience.
I found Charmaine Poh’s video work particularly moving, as the queer artist explores the challenges faced by homosexual families in the tightly-knit society of Singapore. The film unfolds in a poetic and contemplative manner, emphasizing the struggle for acceptance.
I was also captivated by the papercut artistry of Xiyadie, a gay Chinese artist whose intricate, decorative cutouts depict raw scenes of erotic passion and self-inflicted pain.
In the International Pavilion at the Giardini, South African artist Gabrielle Goliath creates an immersive installation that gives voice to those often unheard, using a “symphony” of paralinguistic elements like breaths and swallows to address trauma.
The Australian Pavilion was compelling and deservedly won the Golden Lion. Archie Moore’s installation, Kith and Kin, provides a powerful and cathartic exploration of First Nations history, stretching back over 65,000 years. It highlights the hardships faced by Indigenous communities, who remain among the most disproportionately incarcerated populations worldwide. Moore’s work is a testament to resilience and the weight of history on the present.
During my November visit, I finally experienced Wael Shawky’s stunning film opera at the Egyptian Pavilion. The opera allegorizes an incident in Alexandria that led to the British occupation.
Yuko Mohri’s installation in the Japanese Pavilion is a whimsical and inventive kinetic sculpture inspired by the makeshift solutions seen in Tokyo subway stations to prevent water leaks.
At the British Pavilion, I immersed myself in John Akomfrah’s captivating film cycles, enhanced by a powerful musical score, which connects the historical and contemporary experiences of migrants to England.
One of my favourite artists, Romuald Hazoumè, showcased a striking ceremonial hut in the Benin Pavilion, constructed from recycled petrol cans.
At the American Pavilion, I found myself dancing in front of Jeffrey Gibson’s vibrant pop and psychedelic video in the last room.
While in Venice, I took the opportunity to also visit the Fondation Wilmotte, where curator Valentina Buzzi presented a poetic exhibition by Korean artist Lee Bae titled VENICE WOOD WATER, which offered a serene and meditative experience.
I couldn’t leave Venice without visiting the Prada Foundation, where Christoph Büchel has transformed an entire palazzo into a once-thriving pawnshop, the Monte dei Pietà. I had the pleasure of meeting Büchel, who shared insights into his research on the palazzo’s history, ingeniously converting it into a dialogue on value, debt, and power. His work as an archaeologist-anthropologist is nothing short of genius.
Finally, Berlinde De Bruyckere’s City of Refuge III at the Abbazia di San Giorgio Maggiore presents a haunting exhibition. Inside the church, her colossal Archangels are restrained, unable to fully extend their wings, trapped beneath heavy drapery. The work evokes feelings of loss and decay and makes the viewer reflect on the deeper significance of what truly matters. Her visual language draws from medieval, Renaissance, and Flemish iconography, and an insightful interview reveals her exploration of blankets as symbols of protection and intimacy in her art.
Even if the Biennale overall comes across as intense and dense, Pedrosa invites us to apprehend art through different lenses, distinct from Western art historical canons. As the world has changed between early April and early November, the issues Pedrosa addresses in the 60th Biennale are becoming even more relevant. It is pressing to give the voiceless a voice and tackle prevalent societal and political ideas through art. The Venice Biennale remains a rare and precious opportunity to discover, reflect, and learn.
The 60th International Art Exhibition, Venice Biennale, 20 April to 24 November, 2024
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