my notes, retro-blogged:
giardini: as we stand in front of the interactive map of venice with the lightsies indicating all the smaller off-events and pavilions two mid-aged american ladies walk past.
one says: oh cool, let’s look at this map.
the other, nah.
the first, but it’s got cool little buttons to push.
the second: you can push cool little buttons later, let’s first go see the REAL stuff now.
from the gesture with her head it becomes clear that she means the big exhibit entitled “the experience of art” with the big name [f]artists, the bacons, the tapies, etc.
in my head i mutter, fucking americans. gotta be careful not to say this out loud these days.
a surprisingly blunt definition of how most americans are according to franziska [who does not usually do stereotypes]: fat, ignorant and very loud.
il gazettino (local newspaper) informs that some swiss office called UFC, an acronym that i never heard before, has protested the recent closure of the pipilotti rist video installation at the san staë church. they hope to re-open it in the next few days. after all there has never been an official statement issued by the catholic church, the exhibit was closed by the local priest. apparently on the door of the church a petition got posted that consequently was signed by tens of visitors protesting the censorship. gotta go see that if i have time.
giardini highlights/lowlights:
highlights:
belgian pavillion: honore d’o (= art can be fun, electrical tubing in unlikely, playful situations and free beer)
french pavillion: anette messager (= superdark, extremly powerful installations, as meditative as it is frightening)
the experience of art: candice breitz (= moviestars cut&pasted into hilarious dialogue)
somewhere else. artists from wales: laura ford (= archaic figures symbolizing the decline of western society) & paul granjon (= sexed robots. they did not have sex while we were there, but it was still brilliant to watch them. when i asked the lady at the desk she said (with one of those eyes up in the air expressions that only women can pull off), it’s totally random, sometimes they are at it all the time. here’s a movie)
lowlights:
swiss pavillion: an embarassement, especially the photographic series by whatever his name was. ugh.
german pavillion: can’t say much about the art because the attendants/performers doing their “this is so contemporary” routine irritated me too much to witness much of it.
american pavillion: ed ruscha (boring)
Outside the hallowed walls of the Giardini (whose heavy stone entrance gate designed by Carlo Scarpa, came apart in my hands one morning in 1984 when I arrived to work in the British Pavilion, and has long been replaced by practical turnstiles) the most recent additions to the World of Art (Portugal and, this year, some of the best shows in the Biennale – Morocco, China, Afghanistan, Ukraine, Belarus and Central Asia, including Kazakhstan, Kyrgyzstan and Uzbekistan, making 22 pavilions in all) are installed in palazzi scattered throughout the city, along with 32 other special exhibitions or ‘collateral events’ – Pipilotti Rist and Olafur Eliasson being particular highlights. Requiring more time and effort than the World’s Fair perambulation of the Giardini, these satellite shows nevertheless revealed some of the greatest surprises.