Tag Archives: La Biennale

TOP TEN THINGS TO SEE AT THE VENICE BIENNALE 2015

5 May

Aper

PPBorborygmusArtCriticBY GUEST CRITIC PP BORBORYGMUS, CONTEMPORARY ART CORRESPONDENT AT LARGE FOR TEMPORARY CON ART MAGAZINE

1. THE FRIEZE PARTY

It’s fabulous because hardly anybody can get in, so no riff-raff will be there to see you trash the place and talk shit about the person you’ll then turn right around to, air kiss and and be all smiles with. You’ll see lots of peons outside, though, trying to blag their way in as you sail through like an oligarch’s yacht (see No. 2) deliberately ramming a Mediterranean immigrant raft. That’ll show them who’s important and who isn’t. Matthew Slotover is a darling and almost never strangles people then stuffs them into weighted suitcases to dump into the lagoon from the back of a water taxi in the middle of the night a bit like that chap in American Psycho. Don’t forget to appreciate his tasteful business card and you should be fine.

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Matthew Slotover rarely does this.

2. PARTY ON AN OLIGARCH’S YACHT

It’s fabulous because everybody is incredibly rich. There are always a few yachts docked beside or crashed into the front walls of Venice’s historic palazzi. Oili Massovoye-Ubiystvic’s über-yacht is the crème de la crème; it’s forty storeys high, matte black, armed with mortars supplied by Poju Zabludowicz, and it has its own designer brig section for permanently imprisoning Middle Eastern refugee women who’ve been sold into sexual slavery. If you ever wondered about Venice parties having so many bevies of dazed, dopey, dusky twenty-two year olds in couture dresses, wonder no more. And the answers are yes, they come from O M-U’s sex brig; don’t worry, they probably won’t remember much because of the rohypnol; maybe, but don’t touch what you can’t afford because breakages must be paid for; no, the dresses don’t belong to them.

3. PARTY BY ONE OF THE COUNTRIES WHO HAD A BIG ENOUGH EMPIRE TO BE IN THE GIARDINI

Get there reasonably early because sometimes they’re a bit stingy with the free nibbles and drinkies. Something to do with tax payers’ money? You might be surprised how many tax payers you actually know, so just get as much down you as possible and politely pass over the tricky subject of who pays for all this stuff. Grab a whole bottle from a passing tray if you can. On the plus side you can probably tick off a lot of these little ones in very quick succession, so they work as a delightful if sometimes unpleasantly democratic pre-party for the main attraction which is obviously the Frieze party, oligarch yacht hopping, Lady Gaga’s party (see No. 4), or preferably all three.

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ARSENALE III: CURATING ART WITH A DONKEY TAIL

8 Sep

Jean-Luc Mylayne’s enormous colour photo prints show coloured or black voids with minimal intrusions of twigs or branches and comically tiny birds perched somewhere in the frame, making themselves the centre of attention despite their unambitious insignificance. Nice. I’d have these hanging on my wall if I had a bloody great wall going spare.

Nearby is the work of Rebecca Wood. Oh no, it’s small bits of metal stacked against other bits of metal again! That’ll teach you to demonstrate a sense of colour, space, wit and intelligence, you horrible competent photographer with your horrible competence!

Artists, especially British artists, please knock this kind of shit right off. IMMEDIATELY. Its says nothing to anybody about anything.  Somebody should stack Rebecca Wood against a wall and then stack real wood on top of her until she promises to actually make some art instead of just putting things against other things. There are more representatives of this tendency at the Biennale than I can be bothered to savage specifically, but in the Arsenale Carol Bove particularly deserves a bespoke kick in the bum with a pointed shoe for taking up so much space with her lovingly presented old crap, twisted metal and derivative Louise Bourgeois metal mesh fences. Louise Bourgeois didn’t make her work as a sneaky way of cleaning out her garden shed, ladies. Continue reading

VENICE SPECIAL

6 Sep
THE VERY GATE OF LA BIENNALE, HELPFULLY SURTITLED LIKE THE GATE OF HELL IN DANTE’S INFERNO SO NOBODY CAN SAY THEY WEREN’T WARNED. “THROUGH ME THE WAY TO THE SUFFERING CITY; THROUGH ME YOU GO TO EVERLASTING PAIN; THROUGH ME THE WAY THAT RUNS AMONG THE LOST… ABANDON ALL HOPE, YOU WHO ENTER HERE.” TRUE DAT.

Having recently returned from a trip to the art world c(r)apital that is La Biennale di Venezia, I have lots to share: the good art, the baffling art and the things that made me want to do an impromptu re-enactment of Bruce Nauman’s ‘Clown Torture’ videos where somebody just throws themselves around yelling NO NO NO NO NO NO NO in an endless loop. Continue reading

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