History Soothes the Heaviness of Guilt

The exhibition continues in a monastery connected to the church, split into three rooms. In the first room, there are three stacks of wax covered cloth, animal hides, politely folded and stacked in piles. The piles simultaneously look soft and hard. In the next room, there are feet. Feet and shapeless beings made of wax stand upright in glass casings, like body parts in formalin in a lab. In the third room it feels as if the air is completely still. An altar-like sculpture is situated in the middle of the room and on top of it a body made of wax. The upper part of it is covered with an animal hide, like the archangels in the church. Only the feet are visible and the soles of the feet are upright, so it seems like a person laying on their stomach, a sacrifice. 

At the end of the hall, there is a space containing only two glass tables, filled with the artist's inspiration for the show. Magazine and newspaper cutouts, photographs, and various scraps of paper showing images of war. Bodies lying on a street, each covered by a white sheet. A photograph of Pietà by Michaelangelo lies next to a press photo of a mother holding her dead child in her arms. Harrowing collection of images that, in my opinion, are a necessary ending to the exhibition. By looking at them, the viewer is able to connect the real-life inspiration to De Bruyckere’s work. Looking at the images, I couldn't help but think of the people of Palestine, where their reality is the same as I saw in the photos and kept in the works in City of Refuge III. 

De Bruyckere is inspired by Flemish Renaissance and Christian iconography on life and death. She is an outsider looking in, a researcher of mythology. She weaves such themes together with modern motifs and social situations. In conversation with the church’s architecture, De Bruyckere manages to create a beautiful yet terrifying show where she herself becomes a foreigner.

From Ukraine: Dare to Dream in a World of Constant Fear

In a different part of town, situated on the largest canal that streams through the island, straightforwardly named The Grand Canal, is a palazzo named Palazzo Contarini Polignac. The Palazzo was once owned by Princess Winnaretta Polignac (né. Singer), heiress to the Singer sewing machine empire. With her inheritance, she purchased the palazzo alongside her husband, the charming yet completely broke French prince, Edmond De Polignac. The palazzo became one of Europe's most sought out and important salons with guests like Pablo Picasso, Jean Cocteau and Claude Monet frequenting its halls.

Today, the group show From Ukraine: Dare to Dream in a World of Constant Fear occupies the Palazzo. The show consists of 22 artists and art groups with works that tell stories of war, forced migration, the battle of the oppressed and the effects of climate change in warzones. In the text that accompanies the show, a question is asked “Can we imagine tomorrow? Do we have the courage to dream?” 

The palazzo is big and you have to thread through one gorgeous room after another. The works at the exhibition are beautiful and delicate, yet filled with sorrow. While I was looking at the artworks that were made in trauma and sadness, I couldn't help but imagine what happened in the rooms I was walking through. In a palazzo like Contarini Polignac, which has a long history of parties and love, a certain tension arises. Broken frescos and peeling paint told one story while the fight song Bella Ciao, which resonates from one room, tells another. On the second floor of the palazzo, in an adjoining room that resembles a chapel, six screens stand in various places. Each video shows a child sleeping, and one of them two children. They look like they are asleep, surrounded by the safety of their bed. The work is titled You Shouldn’t Have to See This by the artist duo Roman Khimei and Yarema Malashchuk. The videos are without sound and show Ukrainian children sleeping soundly in their own beds.

Since the beginning of the war between Ukraine and Russia in 2014, Russia has been deporting around 20.000 Ukrainian children to their own territories. The work You Shouldn’t Have to See This draws attention to this crime by showing Ukrainian children in their own beds. But a work like this shouldn't really exist. When you think about it, none of the works in the exhibition should exist, for they are born from war. But they do, and we have to deal with that somehow. Today, we are so desensitised towards images and videos of war, seeing them constantly when we open our social media on our phones - but have the privilege to turn it off and continue on with our day. Walking into the chapel-like room in Palazzo Polignac, and seeing the softness that lives within the work You Shouldn’t Have to See This, I simply felt sad.

At the biennale, history seems charged with a purpose. Venice is a melting pot of art and culture and in such a compressed soup of stories it is difficult to find a clean slate. The history of the artists presenting at the biennale continues to weave with the history of Venice until it becomes difficult to unravel the tapestry. Having the biennale in Venice, and to title this year's exhibition Foreigners Everywhere causes the show somehow to become stuck on the alienation of a group that it then confirms is true, a victim of its own ambition. 

At the same time, to experience the Venice Biennale that is loaded with heavy themes, as a privileged person from Northern Europe, I get the feeling that I am the foreigner and I am the one that is obsessed with the idea of “the other”. A similar reality exists in both shows, City of Refuge III and From Ukraine, albeit from completely different perspectives. Neither show touches upon my own reality, yet I connect deeper with the group show, as unlike Berlinde De Bruyckere, the artists presenting at the Palazzo Polignac manage to invoke a sense of hope. They confront us with humanity´s continuous persistence to fight, leaving me with a feeling of hope instead of guilt. 

This is the third article about the Venice Biennale where the main themes and ideas are explored, as well as the national pavilions, the uncertainty of current events and the main exhibition, Foreigners Everywhere which is curated by Adriano Pedrosa.

Newly graduated artists from Iceland University of the Arts and art theorists from The University of Iceland, interns situated in Venice, are currently working on articles and reports of key ideas and themes of current exhibitions of La Biennale. 

Ragnheiður Íris Ólafsdóttir, also known as Rírí, is a 23 year old artist from Reykjavík. Rírí graduated from the fine arts department of IUA in 2023 and has since then worked as an artist based in Reykjavík.