Another Venice Biennale (the 120th anniversary) and another internationally respected curator sets the scene; this time it’s Okwui Enwezor. For me, every time, this cycle of world-class research is impressive. Not everyone has the capacity to travel (literally or conceptually); therefore the engagement with art and artists from other countries and cultures is precious. When art resonates beyond its edges, it starts conversations with us, beyond its surroundings and between people. In the context of the Biennale the capacity to bring global thinking to life is intensified by its sheer volume, collective spirit and gravity. This year’s title All The World’s Futures is so vast in its reluctance to be pinned down that I’m seeking solid ground before the adventure begins.

After a slightly underwhelming start in the Arsenale, Enwezor is relentless in the inclusion of artists from countries the predominately Western art world has regularly overlooked. I found myself looking for a breathing space in a journey through an evolving story with too many voices and issues to grasp.

Halfway down the Arsenale, Katharina Grosse’s ‘Untitled Trumpet’ heralded its arrival. A single immersive experience created by drapes falling to a rubble-covered floor, spray paint blurring the space between sculpture and backdrop. Here I was transported to a future where the art of our time lay shattered and trampled. Images of Isis destroying ancient temples and the violence the earth does to her self raced through my head. The pause was quickly filled by an acknowledgement that no matter what we try to do, no matter how clever we think we are events and actions repeat a cycle out-with our control.

Katharina Grosse ‘Untitled Trumpet, 2015 (taken at ‘All The World’s Futures’, La Biennale di Venezia 2015)

The art world isn’t ‘even’ or ‘fair’ but I am pretty sure there is commonality in the hopes and dreams of artists working across the globe. Trying to be an artist and maintaining a practice whither in Glasgow or Mozambique is challenging, just in different ways. Regardless, ideas are made visible often with the tools closest to you and the push and pull of artistic communities the world over continues and refreshes. The difference brings a variety of voices, opinions or just things you hadn’t thought of (maybe before the internet).

Looking to the past is necessary to critique the present, but I couldn’t help feeling that those shaping the way we really might or might not read the future were missing. I kept asking myself what ‘All the World’s Futures’ would have delivered, if the same unapologetic research and inclusion of lesser known artists, like (new to me) Goncalo Mabunda, a sculptor who lives and works in Maputo, had been applied to the selection of artists from ‘western’ countries. Instead, the same western ‘names’ from well-worn routes across familiar art territory only added to my uneasy feeling, but maybe that was the point. In my anticipation, I think I expected too much of Enwezor’s Biennale. Although it does feel like a new platform has been crafted and Enwezor dares us to address its fragile condition, however, its identity is a long way off. Enwezor’s presented 136 artists across the Arsenale and Italian Pavilion, eighty-eight of whom are in the Biennale for the first time. To experience this amount of new art in one place is a privilege and the inclusion of more artists from countries previously overlooked made me pay more attention to work I have been guilty of walking past before. Did it make me think about all the world’s futures?

The highlights have been poured over in the art press already. Joan Jonas’s They Come to Us was ‘haunting’ (in a good way). On my return I am surprised by the lack on images on my phone. In the Gardini, I took more images of the spectacle of the new Australian Pavilion designed by Denton Corker Marshall sitting in its precarious setting and wondered what it will look like as a swimming pool in 2016 at The Architecture Biennale. It would be great if the pool could be kept for the Sant’ Elena community, but that’s not going to happen. Will the cantilever act as a diving board? Oh God, swimwear to add to the what to pack-for-Venice-dilemma! We did encounter the best-trained gallery assistant ‘ever’ inside, which, given the building works and a huge install, the attention to detail and preparedness of the staff was one of my highlights. I loved roving about the Gardini but this year my standout exhibitions were in the Collatorale section.

New Australian Pavilion (Gardini, Venice) designed by Denton Corker Marshall

Lucy Byatt Director at Hospitalfield has sensitively curated Graham Fagan’s* outstanding new work at Palazzo Fontana. In it, the work of Ayrshire poet Rabbie Burns is cast as a powerful catalyst to confront Scotland’s participation in the slave trade. The venue’s balcony overlooks the Grand Canal connecting the water, the architecture and the exhibition to Venice. Reggae singer Ghetto Priest’s slow repetitive channeling of Burn’s poem The Slave’s Lament lingers like dappled sun on the canal following a route to those dark days. This made me wonder if Enwezor could have revealed more about the slave trade today, the impact on communities and the different ways it exists in our cities and towns. As the canal follows eventually to the Mediterranean, thoughts of what type of future the people risking their lives in small boats hope for and what we can do to help. A future to be safe, to be able to feed your family and not be used by another should be the right of everyone.

Graham Fagen: Scotland + Venice, 2015 (taken at ‘All The World’s Futures’, La Biennale di Venezia 2015)

The afternoon was spent in the Querini Stampalia where Jimmie Durham’s sculptures nuzzled affectionately with Carlo Scarpa’s architecture in the basement gallery. This must be one of the best art and architecture pairings I’ve seen to date, not only in its appeal for all ages but in the sheer joy of being invited into Durham’s imagination, alongside the precision of Scarpa’s details.

As the sunset over our time in Venice, our group shared Biennale chatter. I voiced my perplexity over the inclusion of Georg Baselitz and one of our party chipped in that they had overheard an American family in front of the oversized paintings say: ‘Where would we put it?’ to which the Dad replied: ‘in the museum’.

I’m hopeful that my questions are left unanswered here, but ‘fair’ or not what is clear is that ‘All the World’s Futures’ are our collective responsibility.

Sunset over Venice, May 2015

*Read more about Graham Fagen’s Venice exhibition on Central Station here. Matt’s Gallery who represent Graham have just released 150 editions of 10″ signed records of The Slave’s Lament available to purchase here via the Own Art scheme.

The Venice Biennale continues until 22 November. Patricia highly recommends a visit and you can now get affordable flights from Edinburgh. Visit www.labiennale.org for more information.

All images courtesy Patricia Fleming Projects, Glasgow.

More: Website | Vimeo | Twitter

//////

Looking for more articles? Visit here.

Image: Front cover of Sarah Lowndes’ book Social Sculpture: The Rise of the Glasgow Art Scene

One of the closing events of this year’s Edinburgh International Book Festival saw visual artist Martin Boyce, curator Adam Szymczyk and author Sarah Lowndes discussing the factors that have contributed to the rise of the Glasgow arts scene since the 1970s. Lowndes is the author of Social Sculpture: The Rise of the Glasgow Art Scene which provided a basis for the discussion.

Central Station spoke to Martin Boyce before the event about his experiences of studying and working in the city. He was born in Hamilton and studied at Glasgow School of Art. His work includes sculpture and installation and is often inspired by modernist design and explores its role in a contemporary setting. He represented Scotland at the 53rd Biennale di Venezia in 2009 with his exhibition No Reflections.

Do you think there’s been a resurgence of interest in Glasgow’s recent cultural history?

I don’t think there’s a resurgence of interest but I think as the history has continued to accumulate there’s more and more evidence that it wasn’t just a burst of activity; it is an ongoing situation that continues to be incredibly strong and healthy. Now you can definitely say that the situation in Glasgow and the art production, culture and music really has solidified as an important centre and I think it continues to attract people into it rather than it just being something happening within it.

What do you think it is about Glasgow that has led to it being such a fertile ground for artists in recent years?

It’s difficult to know because I certainly, as an individual, didn’t feel as though I was at the forefront of saying ‘Come on let’s build a situation here’. There were more vocal people around me that would articulate that and then through being in that situation it allowed you to reflect and think yeah of course, this could be a good situation, a situation that we stay in rather than flee from.

For me Transmission Gallery was a very central thing because it was basically an HQ for people, even if you weren’t on the committee it was a gathering point. And I think that kind of thing was important, but that can be a bar or a café or somebody’s house, just a place that becomes a natural gathering point.

And you enjoyed your time at the Art School?

Yeah, it was all I’d wanted to do even though I probably didn’t even know what happened at Art School. Particularly Glasgow School of Art, I don’t know exactly for what reasons, I guess [because] I was brought up in Hamilton, just outside Glasgow, so it was just this sort of beacon of hope. I really thought it was going to be much wilder. I was a bit nervous, [thinking] ‘what if there’s going to be an orgy on the first day?!’ but of course it’s just a bunch of other people like you.

Were you inspired by the artists who went before you?

I don’t know if this happened in every other department but I was in environmental art and the way the studio was laid out… everyone mixed quite a lot. When I was in the first year I was part of the fashion show which used to be a bit less about fashion and [more] a big theatrical thing and I remember Douglas [Gordon] had some sort of performance and Roddy Buchanan and all those sorts of people so I think I met them then. So by the time [Gordon] was in fourth year and then left there was a bunch of people in different years who were all friends.

You were not influenced by their work necessarily, it was definitely people’s attitude, how they spoke about their plans for the future, what might be possible, what they wanted to do and their ambitions. There definitely were a few people whose level of, not ambition in as much as they wanted to be famous artists, but just that idea that it would naturally continue, it wasn’t that sense of ‘ok what do we do now?’ All of that seeps in and stays with you.

Is it different for graduates now?

I do think that with art schools there’s a funny thing where people who are a couple of years before you are really influential to other students, rather than other artists that are out there. I remember feeling that quite a bit and I see it when I’ve done some teaching at the art school, you do get this frustrated feeling that people’s levels of ambition are quite restricted. There are always one or two people who set their sights much further, way beyond what’s happening in the art school. It’s not about slotting into the success of someone 2 or 3 years ahead of you.

You’ve also spent time in Berlin, what was that experience like?

It was really fantastic, it just came at the right time I think. I’d always lived here [in Glasgow], I’d done an exchange in LA when I was studying in ’95 but apart from that I’d never really lived anywhere else so this opportunity came up and it seemed like a break. We put everything in storage and basically went to this new studio with virtually nothing.

Even at that time [2005] it was very popular with artists but in the last five years it’s transformed as well, so many artists and so many galleries have moved there so it’s kind of overloaded, it’s changed quite a lot. It really felt like it was still on the end of its glory period since the wall came down, a real city of possibility.

Did it give you a new perspective on Glasgow and working in the city?

There was definitely a sense of being able to view Glasgow from another viewpoint and looking at what had been built up and think about whether it’s still important to go back and be part of that.

There were lots of pros and cons, it’s just a very different city. And it’s different when it’s home. Berlin really felt like anything was possible because it’s really new to you. Also living in a city where I didn’t speak any German, you’re living in your own kind of bubble, socialising with other artists, so there was kind of a reality chunk that was missing which was very attractive for a short period of time.

Social Landscape: The Rise of the Glasgow Art Scene is out now in paperback and published by Luath Press Ltd.