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Thibaut de Ruyter
14th June 2019
Exclusions, polemics, peculiarities – the 58th Venice Biennale reminds us that the art world, like the new multipolar world order, is unequal and that the right to be creative in some countries has yet to become a given.
In Venice not all countries are equal. There are, of course, those who have a nice, more or less modern pavilion inside the Giardini. People queue and meet there to drink an espresso. The Germans (the improbable Natascha Süder Happelmann) face the French (Laure Prouvost) watched sideways by the English (Cathy Wilkes). And, according to a sometimes unclear process, the artist, their project, their curator are chosen a year in advance. All this costs a lot of money, but there is always a private sponsor (a brand of chocolate for the Germans!) to save the day and, ultimately, the show goes on. Then there are the others ...
First, those to be found in and around the Arsenal. Countries that rent by the square metre space to exhibit their very best. Then all those dispersed throughout the city, using a palace here or there, with the support of a lot of VIP cocktail parties trying their best to attract attention. It is worth remembering that, in 2013, it was Angola that won the Golden Lion for the best pavilion, while the country occupied a palace beside the Accademia, and that many professionals, already en route for the airport, had to admit that they had not seen it.
This year Kazakhstan has been preparing its big return to the biennial. Though it was present with a Central Asian pavilion from 2005 to 2011, the country has been nowhere to be found for some time (in any case, not since the unofficial pavilion of 2015, accompanied in part by Paul Ardenne). All those who know the creative dynamism of this region were delighted to find Gaisha Madanova, Bakhyt Bubikanova, Saodat Ismailova and Danil Usmanov, under the direction of Nadim Samman. But in the early days of March 2019, the axe fell: the Kazakh state will not finance the operation whereas, a few months before, it had given an agreement in principle. And Venice suddenly reveals the major dysfunctions that prevent an entire generation of artists from having the visibility it deserves, while reminding us that being creative, in some countries, is a courageous, impossible commitment.
One of the most spectacular (but brief) initiatives is this year from Ukraine. The collective Open Group is organizing the flight over the Serenissima during the opening of an Antonov An-225, one of the largest freighters ever built (88 metres wingspan). The collective invited all Ukrainian artists wishing to take part to bring documentation of their works on the plane, making participation in the Biennale “open” to all. A good part of their project is now to obtain low altitude overflight authorizations while finding an idea for the Arsenal because the biennale rules are a little old-fashioned: you have to physically occupy a space for the duration of the event if you want to be officially part of the competition. But if the weather is good, the plane should, for a while, bring shade to the Giardini. No more, no less.
By a strange coincidence, Poland is also presenting a plane in its Giardini pavilion: a work by Roman Stańczak sketched in the 1990s and entitled Flight. This time, the flying object is in pieces, dismantled, transformed and recomposed: first and foremost, a sculpture. Above all, it is a luxurious private jet, and the interior of the Polish pavilion will be turned into a hangar for this object symbolic of the disparities between rich and poor around the world. But the deconstructed jet can also be seen as a reminder of the Smolensk accident, in which Polish President Lech Kaczyński lost his life in 2010. This affair triggered a diplomatic crisis with Russia and gave rise to a number of conspiracy theories.
Meanwhile, Russia, close to Germany and France, is not really at the forefront of contemporary art and has decided to showcase the Hermitage Museum and its masterpieces of past times. The country is inviting Alexander Sokurov to produce a film with an obscure but significant title, Lc. 15: 11-32, in reference to a verse from Luke’s Gospel (commissioner: Mikhail Piotrovsky). Finally, this year for the first time, Pakistan (Naiza Khan) will be present, and also Madagascar (Joel Andrianomearisoa), as well as Ghana (in a temporary pavilion designed by star architect David Adjaye at the Arsenal), Algeria. Others will remain absent or be satisfied with a nice overflight. Really, truly, in Venice, not everyone starts on an equal footing.
Translation: Chloé Baker