Venetian Diary

21 Art Club is the liaison partner of the exhibition by Ilya and Emilia Kabakov "Venetian Diary" curated by Cesare Biasini Selvaggi and Giulia Abate, set up at Ca' Tron-Iuav University of Venice and at the Biennale Gardens, within the Venice Pavilion. In the following article published in "Il Foglio", the great international curator Francesco Bonami nominates the exhibition for the Golden Lion.

The article published in "Il Foglio"

How beautiful the 1907 Biennale must have been, with only one national pavilion: that of Belgium. 100 percent colonialist: there could be no doubt about who to exclude. And then one could quote Heart of Darkness by Joseph Conrad from memory. In fact, the entire Biennale could have been titled that way. Today it could be titled, given the total chaos that has imploded every logic, Darkness without a heart. If in 1907 it was easy to decide what not to see, today it is complicated. One of the greatest faults of "differently democratic" countries is giving a voice to terrible artists disguised as dissidents, from Ai Weiwei to Pussy Riot. Even if the artist representing the United States, Alma Allen, should be imprisoned for premeditated damage to the viewer's retina. In my forty years as a critic and curator, I have seen unbearable things, and Allen ranks very high on the aesthetic demerit list. That said, to cut to the chase, I went to the infamous Russian pavilion. If this is propaganda, so be it. We are faced with floral folklore. As if in the Italian Pavilion there were Sicilian carts, the choir of the Alpini, and the flag-wavers of the Palio. One could have been a bit harsher if they wanted to do propaganda. The thought that this has put one of the most important cultural institutions in the world in crisis is concerning. But if you really want to see the pavilion of the Russian soul, as narrated by Paolo Nori, you must go to the end of the Venice Pavilion and to Ca' Tron. In these two places, Ilya Kabakov, who passed away some time ago, and his wife Emilia Kabakov, who emigrated to the United States more than thirty years ago but have never changed their Russian heart, created an exceptional project that, if there were still a jury, would deserve a Golden Lion, hitting three birds with one stone: two Russians with American passports and Jewish origins. Bingo. The project is called Venetian Diary and is a sort of Polynesian Kula Ring, the ritual exchange of objects described by the anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowski in the Trobriand Islands. In this case, the Polynesians are the Venetians, the true excluded from the art circus during the pre-opening days of the Biennale. Emilia Kabakov instead invited them to bring their cherished objects, their daily and intimate stories into the two spaces. Not only that: to celebrate them, she laid out a red carpet. For her, they are the real stars. In a place where everyone - curators, artists, directors, etc. - tries to profess justice with a capital J, here is an artist who strives to be just with a lowercase j, but not for that less important. Right after, I walk past that building permit that is the brand new pavilion of Qatar. A large gazebo in retro chinoiserie style, with an exhibition inside titled A Gathering of Remarkable People, a meeting of cool people, loosely translated, which also includes the Dalai Lama of contemporary art, Rirkrit Tiravanija. Exactly the opposite of the inclusivity of the Kabakovs. The central pavilion, with the international exhibition imagined by curator Koyo Kouoh before she suddenly passed away, opens with a work by the Great Chief Demond Melancon of the Young Seminole Hunters tribe of New Orleans. The work is a spectacular ceremonial costume made of feathers and colored beads. In the various languages of Native Americans, the word "art" almost never exists, as creation is intertwined with life and everyday life. Observing everything that is on display, I begin to think that Native Americans are indeed right: art does not exist. But the rest does. Blessed are they.

Francesco Bonami