51st Venice Biennale

Between the curatorial spin, the diplomatic agendas and the tourists, the 51st Venice Biennale is a difficult art viewing experience, but having said that, there’s no question that it’s an important event. Within the confusion there is some very good work and, fortunately, other exhibitions happening in and around Venice manage to fill in any holes the Biennale leaves open.

Generally, the works in most of the pavilions and the curated Arsenale, entitled “Always a Little Further,” are politically motivated. addressing issues pertaining to romantic notions of individuality, borders and the global market economy, thus leading some to herald that this year’s Biennale marks the triumph of the avant-garde (Walter Robinson on Artnet), and yes, I did just yawn. The Arsenale is an eclectic mix where curator Rosa Martinez attempts to create an organic sense of neighbours, communities and voices not often heard above the din of superpower fear-mongering. I found it a messy experiment but one that is admirable and necessary. In the other curated exhibition, “The Experience of Art,” mounted in the Italian Pavilion, Maria de Corral provided a mix of mostly mature artists with international reputations and no particular rationale as to why they are there, apart from the opportunity to “experience them.” Most works in all the exhibition areas are either video- or installation-based with few brush strokes in sight. This is surprising, given the amount of buzz around painting these days, and clearly establishes the Biennale as an exhibition that is not complicit with market inter-ests. The individual country pavilions are wild cards in the mix that is full of surprises. It’s interesting to see artists who are well known in their countries but may not be known at all on the international stage. The quality is as varied as the architecture, giving the experience a sense of carnival, where you move from one booth to the next, with each vying for your attention. Some pavilions exhibited blue chip names, most notably Gilbert and George in the British pavilion. I overheard a great deal of criticism about their being an obvious choice, and I agree; however, the work was fresh and well deserving of its place.

For me the whole experience was defined by a number of encounters and juxtapositions that don’t necessarily have anything to do with the official statements. Two works stand out and continue to resonate. In the Arsenale I encountered Hope Hippo, by Jennifer Allora and Guillermo Calzadilla, which is a huge, sleeping hippo made from Venice canal mud. It is approximately twice the size, if not more, of a real hippo and is beautifully executed. While it sleeps, a performer sits atop its back, reading a local newspaper and blowing on a whistle every time an injustice is encountered in the text. Once read, the papers are scattered around on the floor. For the official interpretation, find yourself a catalogue; for me, this was the great beast of good intention and underlying agendas. As the newspapers accumulate and the readers sit comfortably, we wait for this seemingly benign beast to stir and wake to do serious damage to everything within sight.

Tino Sehgal created a viral performance, which he calls an installation, in the German pavilion that contaminated everything I saw afterwards. When a visitor enters the pavilion, the security guards in the first room begin to dance around, singing, “This is so contemporary, contemporary, contemporary.” I really wanted to dislike this piece but it just kept coming back on me, particularly when faced with a piece of art and the question as to why I was being made to look at it. The answer, of course, was simple: because it’s so contemporary. Does there need to be another reason?

In the “Experience of Art” there was a particular moment of brilliance in the hanging decisions when they chose to put the paintings of Francis Bacon and Philip Guston in adjoining rooms. Standing in the intervening doorway where I could see them almost simultaneously, I had no doubt as to the accomplishments of these artists. It was one of those rare moments we all wait for while slogging through exhibition after exhibition. Much has been said about these two, leaving little for me to add except that for those who choose to paint, the bar has been set very, very high. Which leads me to a third adjoining room containing the paintings of Marlene Dumas. With the current market frenzy around her work and the unbelievable prices she’s able to command at auction, I was surprised to see that, in comparison to Bacon and Guston, she’s still at school, and could one day be as great, but not yet.

As most are aware, the Canadian Pavilion contained a video installation by Rebecca Belmore. Now, I’m not being patriotic in saying this, but it was a very fine piece that really held its own. It was well conceived, concise and had a sense of urgency that was lacking in the other pavilions. The waterfall used as a screen was very effective because even without the video it was captivating. The pacing of the video leaves little room for the mind to wonder and gets directly to the point. When the artist stares out at the viewer, there is no choice but to be uncomfortable. Whatever took place, we are all complicit.

The most popular pavilion had to be that of Belgium. The artist, Honoré d’O, had the right idea— give away tree beer as an integral part of the work. Now, that’s a success strategy.

As an artist I have a hard time accepting the shopping-mall, big-box, experience, but at the same time I can’t deny that it’s desirable tor any artist to be a part of it. This year’s Biennale will generate discussions all summer. It’s as flawed as any endeavour of its size has to be. I applaud the effort and, if nothing else, I discovered artists I otherwise might not have encountered. ❚

The 51st Venice Biennale opened June 12, 2005, and runs until November 6, 2005.

Randall Anderson is an artist who writes and currently lives in Weimar, Germany, and Montreal. His recent exhibitions include those at Gutleut 15 in Frankfurt, glue in Berlin and the Jena Kunstverein in Jena, Germany.