The Egyptian pavilion hosts Wael Shawky’s “Drama 1882,” a 45‑minute epic opera that rivals series like “Rome, Spartacus” or adaptations of “War and Peace” in its grandeur and genre-blending style. It recounts the tragic events of 1879–1882, known as the Urabi Revolt, when Ahmed Urabi, a colonel of peasant origin, led an Egyptian nationalist movement against French and British imperial domination. The revolt failed, with British forces bombarding Alexandria and tightening their grip on the country. The eight-part, costumed spectacle rethinks the European view of this conflict, set amidst fantastical, intentionally artificial theatrical scenery and accompanied by a melodic Arabic polyphonic chorus. Shawky, using an engaging and visually rich format, reexamines world history and its interpretation from the a variety of perspectives.
The Golden Lion for Best National Pavilion was awarded to Australia, represented by Archie Moore. Drawing from his own family’s genealogy, which includes both indigenous heritage and British convicts sent to the continent, Moore used chalk to create a nonlinear timeline spanning thousands of generations of Australians. His visual narrative is marked by gaps, symbolizing the massacres of indigenous peoples, epidemics, and natural disasters. At the center of the installation are documents with names crossed out—records from death investigations of indigenous people, based on a Royal Commission report that wasn’t released until 1991.
Many artists focused on forgotten or overlooked aspects of history. Yet, in the end, it felt as though they were attempting to escape the near future—not a distant future in a far-off galaxy, but the mundane tomorrow that promises no real change. Perhaps the reason is that we still haven’t fully come to terms with the past, and until we do, we may be unable to step forward into the future.
Casting aside my worries and soothing my restless thoughts with a glass of Aperol Spritz, I embarked on a quest to explore exhibitions beyond the Biennale itself. You could spend an entire week and still not see all the official collateral events! If you’re short on time in Serenissima, check out the grandiose project by Fondazione Prada, “Monte di Pietà,” created by artist Christoph Büchel. Monte di Pietà was a Catholic financial institution dating back to the 15th century, providing low-interest loans in exchange for movable property. Established initially to counter the influence of moneylenders, these facilities were a mix of pawnshops, charities, and banks. The commercial nature of our existence is immediately evident—before you even step into the palace, bold signs advertise the sale of everything imaginable. Indeed, now more than ever, we’re struck by the painful truth: everything can be bought, and everything is for sale.
Büchel tracks the building’s transformations through history, noting that it housed the Venetian Biennale’s archives until 2011 when it was purchased by Fondazione Prada and turned into a modern exhibition space. The theme of archives, a favorite among artists, is skillfully woven into the larger narrative of our lives, where objects preserve the beauty, contradictions, technology, conservatism, nostalgia, ugliness, and brutality of the world around us. Among the piles of trinkets and decor from brothels, luxury boutiques, casinos, and gaming rooms, among the replicas of lavish dinner parties, you’ll stumble across Titian’s portraits and works by Warhol and Duchamp. Amid an endless stream of socio-economic and cultural references, you’ll experience an immersive passage from past to present and future, from analog to digital. Büchel, according to the curatorial statement, puts the concept of debt—in its broadest sense—at the heart of this project, viewing it as the engine of political and social change.
Another stunning exhibition has taken shape at Palazzo Grassi, one of the three venues of the Pinault Foundation. The spotlight shines on Julie Mehretu, an Ethiopian-born artist who works with the White Cube and Marian Goodman galleries. She’s joined by a talented lineup of artists, including Nairy Baghramian, Huma Bhabha, Robin Coste Lewis, Tacita Dean, David Hammons, Paul Pfeiffer, and Jessica Rankin, all of whom she has befriended and collaborated with throughout her career. Mehretu’s abstract works from various eras are striking in their dynamic energy and technical excellence; her later pieces reveal a remarkable synthetic quality, all created through traditional methods like canvas, acrylic, and oil. This vibrant explosion of color evokes the image of a hyper-saturated global overproduction factory or an incessant visual flood on social media, dizzying the mind. If we set aside excessive associations, Mehretu's paintings serve as a contemporary, suitably decorative, and graphic reinterpretation of abstraction, honoring Jackson Pollock, Cy Twombly, Joan Mitchell, and others.
Critics and art enthusiasts debate whether the Biennale, like any other art event, has positively impacted our society and the unfortunately precarious world. It's unlikely. In the Giardini, Prada outfits brushed against national African garments, playing out a notion of community, as bombs kept falling behind the scenes of pavilions shut down for various reasons. And the Aperol river flowed.
