
Tomas Saraceno, Venice Biennale, 2009
The Venice Biennale is one of the most extraordinary artistic events in the world. The mouldering city slowly drowning in its own canals, already filled with the work of the great Renaissance artists, overflows with artistic and curatorial efforts from around the world. At the center of the seventy-seven national pavilions, and the forty-four collateral events (exhibitions put on in various locations around the city) is the main international exhibition, the pinnacle of curated exhibitions. This year the exhibition titled Fare Mondi/Making Worlds was directed by curator Daniel Birnbaum. His aim in this year’s Biennale was to show the work of art as the making of a world, combining all mediums of artistic expression, historical works of significant influence on the contemporary scene, and experimental or performative art forms such as an art parade conceived of by artist and musician Arto Lindsay. Birnbaum also asserted his desire to explore art beyond the expectations of the art market.
To walk into the massive complex that is the Palazzo delle Esposizioni, the site of the majority of the exhibition, is like walking into a magical kingdom, a theme-park for adults. This feeling overwhelms the viewer no matter who the curator is, and no matter what the subject of the specific Biennale may be, as one is immersed into a small city of meandering exhibition rooms, and the promise of a massive exhibition of world-class international art woven into a magnificent tapestry by a world-class weaver. Birnbaum does not disappoint. The various exhibition rooms – from breath-takingly magnificent spaces of enormous proportions to dark tunnel-like spaces functions beautifully with Birnbaum’s theme – the numerous worlds of the artist. Strengthening the theme-park atmosphere, many of the rooms literally become different worlds due to enormous installations such as Tomas Saraceno’s black expanse of dandylion-like geometries suspended across the central room, and the dungeon of nightmarish “flowers” in Nathalie Djurberg’s Garden of Eden, or the mimicking of studios such as the entrance to the exhibition which is filled with the ironic installation of a painter’s studio created by artist duo Wade Guyton and Kelley Walker, or the “photography studio” of Wolfgang Tillmans. While Birnbaum leaves out other forms of contemporary work, such as media and figure painting, he clearly adores installation, and therefore this acts as the strongest element of the contemporary within the show.
Yet, aside from the excellent installations, the exhibition is distinctly lacking reference to the more recent generations’ artistic considerations. To begin with, art which involves computers – or media is patently scarce. Apart from the opening installation, one might not know that computers had even been invented. The “Media” is primarily comprised of old-fashioned video projections, as in the video projections by artists Dominique Gonzalez-Foerster or Rosa Barba. A sound piece by Roberto Cuoghi and the kinetic sculpture and video by Simon Starling – a charming sculpture, with its soft whirring sound – almost round out the “media” art. And clearly these artists, while talented, do not represent the forefront of expeditions into the realm of the computer, whether referring to the complex sound and computer programming engaged in the work of an artist such as Luke DuBois or the digital manipulations of Cory Arcangel, not to mention the work of older artists associated with New Media such as Raphael Lozano-Hemmer. No, this exhibition seems to have missed the technological revolution.
The other reason that the exhibition feels dated is the complete absence of contemporary figure painting. What makes this deficiency so pointedly bizarre is that in an essay for the exhibition Birnbaum writes “The emphasis on the creative process and on things in the making will not exclude an exploration of visual richness. Painting in the broadest sense and the role of abstract imagery will be explored by artists of different generations…” It is true that there are a number of watercolors and gouaches or other such small-scale paintings on paper, such as a room full of symbolist watercolors by Anju Dodiya, or the expressionistic, religious gouaches of Alessandro Pessoli. But oil painting, and the love of paint, are left out of this show. The figurative and conceptual painting of recent years, illustrative, narrative, fantastical, conceptual or collaged-styles of artists from Wangechi Mutu to Peter Doig (just to mention a couple) – these do not exist for Birnbaum.
My findings should not come as a complete surprise. If one looks to the older or deceased artists included in the exhibition, André Cadere, Yoko Ono, or Gordon Matta-Clark, to note a few – we see that these are not the great painters of the 20th century. Birnbaum clearly has an academic and conceptual vision, admirable in its refusal of market-oriented work, and its support of that art which denies the market: conceptual work and installation. He manages to successfully tie together the numerous worlds of the artist, and the exhibition most definitely has an inward-looking feel, something he describes as a significant element of the show. This especially in comparison to the much more politically and socially directed exhibition curated by Robert Storr at the last Biennale (which was the ideal subject for that moment in time). As a curatorial work – the exhibition is quite lovely – focused, and almost seamless, aside from the bizarre break-down at the end of the exhibition in the main space – the Palazzo delle Esposizioni (in which a variety of extra works are thrown together in bizarre and disorganized fashion). But my criticism must be that the exhibition is distinctly dated because of the absence of media and painting. In no way does this feel truly contemporary – on or even interested in the pulse of art today. There is a strong concentration on Conceptual art, and a generally 1960’s and 1970’s taste in contemporary work. Therefore, the exhibition is clearly unrepresentative of our most recent generation of artists, and in reference to the title Fare Mondi/Making Worlds, the making of worlds by these contemporary artists.







