Thursday, 22 October 2009

Highlights from 53rd Venice Biennale (Part 3/4)

External Pavilions
Trying to get to all of the pavilions dotted about the various islands of Venice is a challenge in itself, we found dead ends, pavilions shut early and confusing non-existent streets in our mission to them. Using beautiful buildings as galleries for contemporary art is something the biennial has always done and is somewhat known for. This was particularly noticeable in Mexico's Pavilion (¿De qué otra cosa podríamos hablar? / What else could we talk about?) was housed in an old palace down a dingy piss alley in northern Venice. Teresa Margolles, a founding member of the group SEMEFO (Forensic Medial Service) and has in this capacity held performances, lectures, and made work using the morgue as a laboratory and study, developing social and conceptual artistic strategies on the basis of the use of bodily substances. According to the press in Mexico, in 2008 more than 5000 people lost their lives in executions and shootings related to drug trafficking and its combat. For the work in Venice at 4pm the floors are mopped with the blood from some of these 5000 people. It's a quiet, eerie performance. Also on display are flags, tapestries and embroideries again using victims blood. It's pretty gory but compelling stuff.

Despite their pavilion in the Giardini disappointing, one piece in the Australian off-site pavilion (@ The Ludoteca, Castello) by Claire Healy & Sean Cordeiro made up for the poor show. Life Span is a six metre tower of video tapes that dominate the inside exterior of a church. The tapes, some recorded with hand-written labels, some official, some well known such as Titanic, or Bad Boys and some ones in some strange far-off foreign language. But the actual amount of the videos (195, 774) is actually significant, the combined running time is enough to literally record the average person's life span when VHS was first released in 1976, 60.1 years.
A simple concept made the Lithuanian Pavilion a definately place to remember, artist Zilvinas Kempinas created Tube, literally a tube or tunnel of magnetic tape with a path down for visitors to walk. It's a quiet, thoughtful piece that allows the viewer to fully consider the work. It's almost as if you're walking into a different world, or are in the beginning of a sci-fi film. As the tape moves and quivers in the air you wonder what will happen when you get to the end. It's a monumental, yet fragile space that transformed the interior of the beaten down old church, Scuola Grande at Della Misericordia.

The home pavillions (well, the Scottish, Irish and Northern Irish) were all respectably good, especially Martin Boyce, No Reflections that seemed to be a study on parks and municipal furniture. Having to traverse across (A River in the Trees) giant slabs of stone avoiding the delicate paper leaves on the floor was a great way into the space and concept. The Irish Pavilion featured a lot of pencils by Sarah Browne, Gareth Kennedy and Kennedy Browne.

The Latvian contribution was incredible, the installation Fragile Nature by Miks Mitrēvics’, was composed of various scenes in miniature, exploring manifestations and perceptions. By creating tiny machetes of scenes and photographs and screens used artificial light as an operating source of energy. He is trying to copy reality in a haphazard, DIY sense and it's completely successful.

In the Estonian Pavilion at Palazzo Malipiero, Kristina Norman presented After-War, a project dealing with political, provocative, documentary and research-based art. The work in Venice is a comprehensive research project comprishing of videos, photographs and objects in five distinct rooms. It is concerned with the events of April 2007, when the Estonian government removed a monument commonly referred to as the Bronze Soldier from the centre of Tallinn (where it had stood since 1947) and relocated 2.5km away at the military cemetery. The memorial was dedicated to the Red Army soldiers who fell during what in russia is known as The Great Patriotic War (WWII) but for most Estonians the memorial was a symbol of Soviet occupation. Removing it caused widespread anger and discontent throughout the city and led to wild riots through the city (which Norman has documented with the installation). She even created her own Golden Solider and placed it in the original's old position. Documenting this in film it shows the publics happy reaction and her eventual arrest.