more on the Polish pavilion

I’ll have to go back and give it another look, but my question is roughly this.

If you’re Jewish and really think the Jews should return to Poland (as seems to be the case with the artist, the first non-Polish national ever to represent Poland at the Biennale) then why not simply do a political documentary making the case for the Jews to return to Poland? It’s a sufficiently fresh and controversial idea that you’d be sure to get a hearing.

My worry about the pavilion, however, is that the attempt has been made to turn it from political documentary into art simply by adding a twist of campy irony to the presentation of a literal political idea, which the artist does nonetheless believe in.

the only piece to make me laugh out loud so far

Lots of good pieces in Venice, but only one that literally made me laugh out loud, for about 20 seconds in this case.

It was in the American pavilion, a functioning ATM with a large pipe organ grafted to the top. I actually withdrew 160 Euros from my Egyptian account, and the organ played a scary little fugue in response. Everyone in the room laughs whenever this happens.

The prize-winning German pavilion is nicely weird indeed, just as I was told, but too cluttered for my tastes: little guidance to the viewer as to how to take it all in. Nice spectacle, though, set up like a church.

I enjoyed Mike Nelson’s Blair Witch Project-type house in the British pavilion, but the title (“I, Impostor”), while potentially brilliant in another context, did absolutely nothing for me here. A lot could be written about how titles enhance or degrade the overall experience of an artwork. I see the title as the best chance the artist (or the philosopher) has to guide our overall interpretation of the work, and few do it well. (One of the best in philosophy is surely Nietzsche. Almost all of his book titles are brilliant.)

Some people are apparently a bit annoyed by the French pavilion, but I love it and have been back several times. It’s “Chance” by Christian Boltanski, a series of enlarged baby photos running around on an intricate conveyer belt, one of them stopping from time to time and appearing on a monitor when a carnivalesque bell rings. I’m reminded by this show that I like intricate machinery; I liked the Turkish pavilion as well, for that very reason.

The Polish pavilion left me a bit confused. It seemed to be a literal call for the Jews to return to Poland, thinly veiled as a campy joke that the Jews should return to Poland. An imaginative political idea, perhaps, but I’ve never liked literal statements masked as jokes. But maybe I’m misinterpreting what was going on here.

Japan did a tsunami-themed piece, but I didn’t find it nearly as overwhelming as it could have been, given how powerful even flat-out Japanese tsunami video footage is.

In the end, I suppose I would have voted for the French piece (Boltanski), but the German piece is a worthy victor. It was certainly the weirdest thing I’ve seen here. Just a bit too cluttered with images and ideas.

Morton at Royal College of Art in London

On June 30. HERE.

Wish I could see it, but I will be in Portland, Oregon on that day, visiting my four hilarious and smart nephews.

no crowd on Sunday morning

I was expecting it to be packed from the opening bell today, but the Giardini is mostly empty. There was no wait at the German pavilion, and a much smaller wait at the British pavilion than on other days.

Going to check in with the Egyptians again.

the layout of the Biennale

Sorry, I’d totally forgotten that most readers of this blog have never been to the Venice Biennale, and have no idea what the physical layout of the thing is like.

There are two very large areas of exhibits and then probably a few dozen off-site shows.

The Giardini, a public park, is where all the old national pavilions are. Egypt is there, and so are the USA, Israel, Serbia, Poland, Brazil, France, Britain, Germany, Austria, Japan, Korea, Belgium, and I’m forgetting some others.

Then there’s the Arsenale, where you can find Croatia, Turkey, the Saudis, India, the gigantic space of the UAE, and others. Sorry for those I’m leaving out.

In both the Giardini and the Arsenale, there’s also a special curated show of younger artists from around the world. That is curated this time by the Swiss curator BICE CURIGER.

And then there are all kinds of national pavilions scattered around the rest of Venice, and you need a map to find them. Ireland and Zimbabwe are in the same building. There’s Mexico, Wales, San Marino, and many others.

Numerous parties are grafted onto all the shows, some hosted by countries and others by art journals and still others by billionaires such as Roman Abramovich, whose gigantic 377-foot yacht was parked right outside the Giardini two days ago and may still be there for all I know.

Plenty of celebrities are in the vicinity. Shimon Peres is the only one I saw, but friends of mine have seen both Courtney Love and Leonardo di Caprio (not together, though) in the past couple of days.

The weather has been a bit humid, but this is a very perfect Sunday morning, with low humidity and a cool breeze at 9:45 AM.

OOO and process ontology

Some thoughts from Matthew at FOOTNOTES TO PLATO.

Serendipity Suite, again

Here’s their response (mostly in German) to my post on their post about my Istanbul hotel room. Nice people:

http://www.serendipity-suite.de/?p=12259

from a bridge in Venice

Just for the heck of it, posting from a small bridge a bit south of the Rialto, on an absolutely beautiful morning.

Most of us are going to see the prize-winning German pavilion today, having given up on it two days ago due to the long lines. The lines will be even longer now that it was named as prize-winner yesterday, but you can’t leave the Biennale without seeing the “best in show” piece.

What a great flat I’m in now. Pretty close to the Campo San Giacomo dell’Orio, one of my favorite squares in Venice. And I love Venice anyway.