All The World’s Futures: 56th Biennale di Venezia

“It’s not about looking for inspiration, it’s not [meant] to be understood. If you try to understand, you won’t. Sculpture has to do with intervening in space. This is a pavilion that was built-in 1920s Fascism. If you install a new floor and install a few new walls can that be a worthwhile intervention? The important part is what is behind it.” Man, who only identified himself as a friend of the artist, at the opening reception of the Austrian pavilion at the Biennale di Venezia. Overheard and inadvertently answering my question: where is the art? Such is how we arrive at the 56th Biennale di Venezia. However, for the most part the “where” wasn’t an issue and if the question was asked the answer would be, everywhere. Every two years, this international exhibition expands beyond the walls of the Giardini and Arsenale, with the latter the expansion happened within these walls as well. The exhibition, All The World’s Futures curated by Okwui Enwezor, presents conflicts and ultimately, proposed solutions, and brings together 136 artists from 53 countries, 89 who have been included for the first time. As with most exhibitions the theme is not (or shouldn’t be) in the written text accommodating the artworks but rather in the artworks themselves and this is where All The World’s Futures, flounders. Not only are there too many artworks and artists in the main exhibition, but rather than feel like a cohesive, fluid incarnation, instead much of the work would have looked better on its own surrounded by white rather than next to a forced neighbor whose visual intention is quite different. This being said, there are golden nuggets scattered throughout the two main venues, inclusive of several collateral events and external pavilions.

The Biennale di Venezia is a large, or rather enormous, exhibition. Bringing together globally selected artists who at times rather than communicate to a contemporary moment, speak of the past. As mentioned above, an early critical observations is that much of pairings do not do each other justice or in many cases isn’t the best representation of from a particular artists oeuvre. A perfect example of this was a series of building models by Isa Genzken of unrealized architectural projects awkwardly paired with the small, black and white photographs of Depression-era photographer Walker Evans installed in the Central Pavilion of the Giardini. Spatially the coupling makes sense in the simplest terms −photographs on the wall, sculptures filling the floor space− however the poetics are more interesting than the realization where the dialogue falls flat. Another artist (and sometimes top-pick) whose work has also been strong in the recent past but fails here is Walead Beshty whose contribution to the Central Pavilion is a series of sculptures made of various objects, ceramic and appearing to be painted with drippy black paint with red accents. They are −for those who follow my writing know this is a word I rarely use− terrible. A political meaning may/does rest below the surface but even still, the aesthetic language is not engaging enough for one to investigate further. Appealing from a distance, up close these sculptures, in at least two locations in the Central Pavilion, look as if they could have been made by an engine mechanic with excess car paint and a collection of discarded materials ranging from children’s toys to tires. Also nearby are a series of objects by Jeremy Deller that have a stronger aesthetic appeal than the aforementioned, but could have been taken further, also the addition of an audio component would have been more interesting.

It could easily be argued that the inauguration of the Biennale is not the best time to look at art. As soon as the metaphoric ribbon is cut, artwork must sing and sing quickly. Video lasting over twenty minutes becomes too long, performance needs to be loud enough to be heard or soft enough for those present to want to lean in. Such was the case with Allora & Calzadilla, In the Midst of Things (2015), in which a choral group will perform an arrangement of Joseph Haydn’s oratorio The Creation at the Arsenale. A live audio performance featuring professional opera singers, their octave tonalities echoed through the first few galleries attracting those nearby. A vocal and gestural dialogue between three men and three women, who move forward and return backwards as does their conversation. Their bodies moving in between hanging two-dimensional artworks, activated the space: blood cells flowing through veins. Other artists who sparkled at the Arsenale included Mika Rottenberg, Adrian Piper winner of the Golden Lion for best artist (showing a participatory a piece that I wrote about for Flash Art and had been on view at Elizabeth Dee Gallery in NY), Tania Bruguera, Fabio Mauri and Oscar Murillo. While at the Central Pavilion of the Giardini stand-outs included Rosa Barba, Hans Haacke who contributes an on-going iPad activated questionnaire, and Fabio Mauri who has been included in multiple venues. Mauri, who died in 2009 has a strong presence in All The Worlds Futures, having the first room as one enters the Central Pavilion, along with works at the Arsenale his estate is now represented by Hauser & Wirth. His is really about mortality, as is much of the successful work included in the Enwezor show, whereas things end rather than begin. It is either a dark projection or a dark reflection, the antithesis of the rose-colored lens. Here we are shown works that are evident in a political exposé from the past that for the most part still make sense today, in fact looking at the work it would be quite easy to assume it was made by a much younger artist. The surprising element of the exhibition is that some work would probably sore in another circumstance (more space, less noise) and is diminished here, lost in its own residual compositional sentimentality. Such is the case with an installation by Thomas Hirschhorn (Roof Off, 2015) that is over-installed, visually too big for the location, a back room of the Central Pavilion. Hirschhorn, known for spatial fullness in his installations is swallowed by the space and seems oddly placed. The work of Hans Haake, specifically World Poll, 2015, a few rooms over has a larger visual scope, minimally installed and yet growing as it is participated in as graphs/answers are being printed on A4 paper and lining the wall. Performances will occur throughout the Biennale in a temporary theater, called The Arena, built-in a room that for Robert Storr’s biennale held paintings by Sigmar Polke. On the day of my visit I found a particular musical performance distracting from nearby paintings, Isaac Julian’s performance of Das Kapital has received mixed reviews. There is something about a visceral performance that enters and leaves a venue having a particular fluidity versus, (distinctly in a large, curated exhibition) something occurring in a theater which feels static or obligatory, requesting a different level of time. As with the ongoing Allora & Calzadilla performance, the strength lies in the happening, the moment that enters into our particular sphere whether invited or not. In 2013, curator Massimiliano Gioni included Tino Seghal in the Central Pavilion with a work so subtle it wasn’t always obviously recognized as performance. Also the Encyclopedic Palace (2013) the S.S. Hangover (2013) by Ragnar Kjartansson −still one of my favorite works of all time− was afloat in the Arsenale, accompanied by instrumentalists, revealed itself upon approach by melodic audio, while also being spatially and optically captivating. There is often magic in subtlety which is something the presence of a theater within an art venue (in this context) doesn’t lend itself to.

Under the umbrella of All The World’s Futures, the individual country-specific pavilions in the Giardini and various locations throughout the city, were not curated by Okwui Enwezor. Here curators hired by or selected by respective countries, offer individualized perspectives with art that may or may not be specific to the represented nationality. In some cases these micro group shows, part of the larger exhibition but also unique in mood and effect, can feel completely unto their own. Where this group dynamic has worked best in particular can be found in the pavilions of Belgium, Holland, and Spain. Located within the confines of the, Giardini, each present group shows that include artists such as Adam Pendleton (American showing with Belgium) and Elisabetta Benassi (Italian showing with Holland), and Pepo Salazar and Salvador Dalì respectively representing Spain, along with a few others. Rather than have drawings or paintings by Dalì, the curator of the Spanish Pavilion chose to show interviews and some of his experimental films, hung on bright pink walls and comfortable surface to sit on. In one of the interviews with Merv Griffin in 1965 originally shown on American television, Dalì states, “Time is the same as Coeur du Berry cheese, it melts and is elastic.” So true. At the Dutch pavilion, Elisabetta Benassi  made an installation (M’FUMU, 2015) of porcelain dinosaur bones that form a throne. For the duration of the exhibition on the throne sits a man who reads King Leopold’s Soliloquy by Mark Twain which is alternated between English and Italian. The piece is one if the strongest in the Biennale, merging performative interaction with language and sculpture. There is something quite contemporary about the Twain text and a first person narrative makes it feel quite direct and even personal. The reader engages visitors looking and speaking in their general direction, to them even.

Another artist that spawned conversation, including the introductory quote in this article, is Heimo Zobernig at the Austrian Pavilion.  Initially perceived as ’empty’ and conceptually the opposite than the many multi-artist pavilions, this work is so subtle it could be missed. Zobernig raised the floor to be the same level as the entrance and dropped the ceiling, by way of a barely discernable ‘block’ that seems to be floating above. The materials are painted a matte black and only if the visitor was familiar with the original layout of the building, could these changes be perceived. Located nearby was the Romanian Pavilion showing Pace Gallery represented artist, Adrian Ghenie, with a series of oil paintings titled “Darwin’s Room”. Aesthetically poles apart from Zobernig’s work -simultaneously providing the viewer with a task and space for introspection- Ghenie’s paintings are skillfully made and hanging on the wall, ready for consumption.

When it comes to the pavilions of the Giardini, a solo exhibition, with one unique artist seems to work best,. This was true two years ago in the German Pavilion with a mammoth installation by the late Christoph Schlingensief, and year nothing comes close to being that epic. One of the most positive evolutions for 2015 is the inclusion of more women artists than previously presented. This is celebratory, a ploughing of the playing field, if not equalizing.  American artist Camille Norment who is based in Oslo and represents the Scandinavian Pavilion, made a dynamic, uncanny installation, expanding upon the concept of silence with sound.  Norment, a officianado with the glass harmonica has made an audio sculpture using voice as well as instruments to envelope the architectural interior. The sounds are projected out through larger-than-life microphones (actually speakers) extending from the ceiling, nearly offering the viewer the opportunity to respond to the eerie, anti-narrative soundtrack. During a panel discussion, the artist stated, “Excitation-to be shaken up/stirred, joyous, ecstasy, or traumatic. The sound of excitation/a body itself the Nordic Pavilion, suspended in the moment of being shaken (hence the sculptural intervention of the space) architectonically formal but moral and political implications.” All of the windows of the pavilion have been recreated, mirroring the originals and lie displaced, twisted and broken, as if a tornado hit the building before installation. Then adding, “the windows that are like membrane connecting inside from outside. Microscopic exploration of vibration and movement.” The work is physically inclusive with invisibility and alarming as it is in part based on the artists’ own experience in her studio when windows shattered after the bombings in Oslo in 2011. While open for interpretation and personal reflection, many noted during the preview that it functions as a place to find solace amongst chaos.

Similar to how Norment uses the structure of sound in an otherwise empty space, Pamela Rosenkrantz has made the entire interior of the Swiss Pavilion into a pink lake. The color is fleshy and awkward as it is pretty. On her installation, Our Product, 2015, Rosenkrantz states, “[It is a] summation of european skin tone. Neuroscience is just a concept and constantly changes. Skin is something I like to take and contradict thoughts with.”