at the th 70 Q&A with Bice Curiger 72 Saleh Barakat on the Venice Biennale 74 Egypt 76 Iraq 78 Saudi Arabia 80 Turkey 82 United Arab Emirates 84 Collateral events & other info 70 Bice Curiger may be used to travelling, through her post as curator of the Zurich Kunsthaus, a position she has held since 1993, and through her editorial roles as co-founder and editor- in-chief of Parkett Contemporary art magazine and Publisher of Tate Etc magazine. But since her appointment as Artistic Director of the 54th Venice Biennale, Curiger’s trips “have intensified into bigger trips in shorter periods of time”. The Swiss-born curator, art historian, author and critic is already working on her next project – an exhibition at the Zurich Kunsthaus, initially planned for this summer but which has been postponed to 2012, and which tackles a juxtaposition of Contemporary and Baroque art. Myrna Ayad speaks with Curiger on the Biennale and its largest participation of Middle Eastern nations to date – something which Curiger views as her “introduction to the [regional] art scene” and one that she is “very interested to learn more about”. VENICE BIENNALE SPECIAL FEATURE 71 t he Venice Biennale is all about na- tional participation and referencing artists based on their nationality. And yet, many Middle Eastern artists dis- like being labelled as ‘Lebanese’, ‘Al- gerian’ or ‘Iranian’ etc. How do you feel about this? What are your thoughts on limiting and classifying an artist based on their nationality? There are different ways to perceive this and I think we should be more honest and pragmatic. This is an expression for an artist of a country in the 20th century. It might not be appealing [to some], but it helps others to know about a person’s cultural background and that’s the important message here – but also to have an open notion of culture as a moving, changing force and not as something static. It’s great [in Venice] to see all these experts, from different corners of the world, present their ideas. For a curator, it’s difficult to travel to 89 countries and become an expert! Jack Persekian was recently dismissed as Artistic Director of the Sharjah Biennial over a ‘controversial’ work by Algerian artist Mustafa Benfodil. What are your thoughts on censor- ship in curating? [In the process of curating] curators discuss and advise artists. Sometimes, [even] in very liberal so- cieties, you have to protect children and the public from offensive things. For example, Benetton’s ad campaign in the early 1990s was made to shock people – an image of a person dying from AIDS, another of a priest and nun kissing and so on. I was always against this campaign, because of its place- ment in the public space. It’s not right when com- panies do this for publicity. When artists do this, it’s different because he/she is behind that gesture and is there to defend his/her act. Artists should be free to do what they want, but not hurt people in the process. This year’s Biennale features the largest ever participation of Middle Eastern Pavilions. What are your thoughts on this and the regional scene in general? I think the world is paying attention and it’s an inter- esting situation in [exploring] the meaning of culture. We read newspapers, but in art and culture one can address topics differently and show complexities or issues of daily news which are not covered. What kind of perspective do you feel Middle Eastern art gives Contemporary art in general? While I was in Doha [for the opening of Mathaf: Arab Museum of Modern Art], a wide history of art was made accessible, one that was not previously present. It would be interesting to see this written about and analysed in terms of what were regional and international influences. T old/ Untold/Retold is a very good show and curatori- ally really smart; it was great to connect it with Mathaf’s opening. What impression did Mathaf give you on the regional art scene? I was impressed! It was an enormous job to bring this together and present it coherently. As I am not very familiar with Middle Eastern art I couldn’t say if the works were good or bad, or suggest another presentation, thematically or geographi- cally. It’s important to dig deeper on the lives of the [Modern] artists. You have asked participating artists five ques- tions, which Canvas now poses to you. 1. Where do you feel at home? Many places. 2. Does the future speak English or another language? Sadly, the future is speaking bad English and many languages have and will disappear. Maybe in 100–200 years, new languages will develop and be technically induced. 3. Is the artistic community a nation? Metaphorically, yes. I think we all live in different milieux and are part of different ‘scenes’ at the same time. We speak a ‘dialect’ and switch to other languages all the time. There are different ‘nations’ overlapping in the art scene; it’s not [just] one. 4. How many nations do you feel inside yourself? Many. When I go to London for example, I have to teach my body that I’m in a country where I have to look left and right because someone has made a traffic rule. 5. If art was a nation what would be written in its constitution? I asked this question to artists and while I am not an artist myself,would say the rule is to break the rule. Breaking rules can be fun! From curating shows to curating a biennale – what are some pointers to consider and what kind of mental framework must one apply? I’m really glad to have experience in publishing and museum curating – I’m used to analysing a place and the status quo of how things are viewed. Some conventions have to be chal- lenged and that’s basically what I do in my cu- ratorial practice, [so being Artistic Director of the Venice Biennale] isn’t so different, but you look at new topics. The Biennale theme of IL- LUMInations is quite self-reflective. It’s looking at the institution of the Biennale and art, but also hopefully optimistically. Given how large the Biennale is, why did you limit it to four parapavilions? And what are your thoughts on blurring identities and na- tionalities in an event like the Biennale? Parapavilions relate to the national pavilions in a playful way. I think four is a good number to be- gin with. To create a big structure like the para- pavilions, you’ve got to approach artists who are used to working in big structures, while others prefer neutral territory. I also wanted to interrupt the long space in the Arsenale, which can look like corridors. Parapavilions help break up this narrative and interweave the projects. On blur- ring identities – if you take the parapavilion of American-born Paris-based Oscar Tuazon, he has chosen the work of a Basque artist, which in turn reflects on Basque history of art and moderni- sation. Tuazon poses questions you pose in the Middle East – they are topical questions. If this work was shown in the Spanish Pavilion, it would have had a different interpretation. How does art ‘ILLUMInate’ you? It’s an important aspect of my life. Illumination makes you think and discover new takes on the world that you would have otherwise not come across and I’m grateful for that and that I can be active in that field. Artists give me all these [different] impulses; they make me intelligent every day. What thoughts or feelings do you want visitors to the Biennale to walk away with? I believe it’s good if an exhibition makes you thoughtful about the world, and remember: art should also make you happy. Image courtesy the Venice Biennale. 72 From as early as the ninth century, Venice has been a major trade centre, particularly with the Byzantine Empire and the Islamic world and later, through the Ottoman Sultans. With the establishment of the Venice Biennale in 1895, the city once again positioned itself as a centre – through art and culture. With the rise of Middle Eastern participation at the Venice Biennale over the years, Saleh Barakat looks at the cultural weight of the Biennale for nations, their local art scenes and their artists. w hen I began writ- ing this introduc- tion, my memories took me back nos- talgically to 2003, when I attended my very first Venice Biennale and visited Catherine David’s Contemporary Arab Representations exhibition at the Arse- nale. A new chapter of my life was opened. I came back in 2005 to participate in the Venice Agenda IV meetings and discuss the Beirut Con- temporary art scene in the preceding decade (1995–2005). This was when I made the happy encounter with paediatrician Dr Vittorio Urba- ni, probably the most fervent militant for Arab artistic presence in Venice. He became a driving force, which motivated my colleague Sandra Dagher [co-director of Beirut Art Center, page 60] and I to curate the first national Pavilion of Lebanon in 2007, a statement of Lebanese re- silience following the destructive 2006 Israeli invasion (Urbani was appointed commissioner for Lebanon in 2007 and for the Palestine c/o Venice collateral show in 2009; this year, he is co-commissioner of the Iraq Pavilion). In 2009, I returned to witness Palestine’s grand entrance to La Serenissima through a generous initiative from patrons Rana Sadik and Samer Younes. It 73 VENICE BIENNALE SPECIAL FEATURE was also an occasion to celebrate the Gulf’s first foray in Venice through the UAE’s inaugural Pa- vilion at the Arsenale. The Middle Eastern presence at the Ven- ice Biennale has been rather shy since the Biennale was established in 1895. Apart from the Egypt Pavilion in the Giardini, granted in 1952, which ensures a permanent presence for Egypt in the Biennale, regional nations have rarely participated, although Iraq had a Pavilion in 1976 and 1990 and Iran in 1958 and 2003. While works by some Middle East- ern artists have been showcased at the Venice Biennale, participation in the form of national Pavilions stepped up in the mid 2000s – Mo- rocco participated in 2005, 2007 and 2009; Lebanon and Turkey in 2007; Syria in 2007 and 2009; Palestine (through a collateral show) and the UAE in 2009. This year witnesses a grow- ing crop, with the announced participation of Saudi Arabia, Iraq, Syria, Iran, Turkey, the UAE (and of course, Egypt). Venice’s Arabic name is Al-Bundoukiyyah , which literally translates as ‘firearm’. During the Renaissance, the city was the main exporter of early firearms, which shot round steel bul- lets shaped similarly to hazelnuts, known as Bundouk in Arabic, hence the name Al-Bun- doukiyyah , or the ‘nut shooter’. Around five centuries later, the Arabs resume their rela- tionship with Venice through a more peaceful form of exchange – that of art and culture. In these dark times of rising fundamentalism and a clash of cultures, the Biennale offers a win- dow of hope for the entire world to discover yet another facet of the Arab world – one of aesthetic communication, visual art and crea- tive expression, in contrast with a stereotyped Arab world of violence, hostility and wars. The Biennale is also an unparalleled oppor- tunity for artists from different Arab countries to interact, learn and transcend to higher spheres. In the absence of museums and quality art in- stitutions in the Arab world, going to Venice becomes a goal in the course of continuous knowledge and self actualisation. It’s true that national representation remains a question- able approach as to how truly it is representa- tive of the real art scene back home – the ques- tion of national representation and the debate over the importance of a national Pavilion as compared to an independent artistic presence beyond national politics and governmental guidance – but the Biennale remains a major opportunity to shed light on what is happen- ing in the art world in this part of the globe. National Pavilions of Arab countries so far have rarely presented well-curated exhibitions based on defined concepts and many of the experi- ences (with the exception of the Lebanon and UAE Pavilions and the Palestine c/o Venice col- lateral event) have been rather disappointing, without proper documentation or any trace of published material. I hope this year will witness more carefully studied initiatives. Going to the Venice Biennale is not about being there, nor is it a question of vanity, egos or means. It should be a noble aim to take lo- cal artists and art scenes further in their pursuit for art as a major societal expression. To get significant results, national committees should be formed with the right expertise on board, a passionate vision and appropriate budgets to prepare for this event two, four or six years in advance. Only through careful long-term plan- ning can Middle Eastern representation reach a mature stage. This 54th edition comes at a watershed moment in the history of missed opportunities in the formation of the modern Middle East seeking to open a door on a bright and promising regional participation in Venice. It hopes for a prolongation of effort to ensure a lasting presence in Venice. So far, Middle Eastern Pavilions have mostly been the result of personal initiatives, but if this momentum is to be sustainable and constructive, it needs to be institutionalised. Thinkers, intellectuals and academicians need to be involved in putting viable strategies to nurture artists of the future. This is bound to happen sooner or later with the growing crowd of actors in the regional art scene. I hope the Middle East will understand finally how important it is today to export a contemporary image of itself, an image of a productive culture, alive and kicking. And why Venice in particular? The Bien- nale, in spite of the many criticisms around it, remains the foremost qualitative non-com- mercial global encounter of the art world to- day. And in a world experiencing a growing polarisation and tension between a Northern/ Western Christian block, and a Southern/East- ern Muslim one, Venice could play its historical and edgy attitude towards dialogue, creating the platform to expose the best of internation- al creative expressions, where free discourse is allowed, and multiplicity is considered a sign of enrichment, not a threat. Going to the Venice Biennale is not about being there, nor is it a question of vanity, egos or means. ” “ Photography by David Levenson. 74 For a while, it looked like Egypt, alongside Lebanon and Bah- rain, would also be pulling out of this year’s Biennale. The longest-running Mid- dle Eastern Pavilion at the Biennale, granted its own dedicated space in the Giardini in 1952, it seemed incomprehensible that Egypt would not take part. For weeks, available information was sketchy at best and when it was finally confirmed that an Egyptian Pavilion would, af- ter all, take place, it was a bittersweet moment for many. The young artist selected to represent his country, normally a high point in any artist’s Clockwise from bottom left: A still from a documentary by Ahmed Basiouny on 26 January 2010. Concert with Ahmed Basiouny and ABO Asala at DARB 17 18, part of the annual 00LIVE electronic music concert in May 2010. 30 Days Running In The Place . March 2010. Live multimedia performance as part of the Why Not exhibition. All images courtesy Egypt Pavilion. 30 Days of Running In The Place egypt career, was in fact Ahmed Basiouny, who, on 28 January, at only 32 years of age, was killed by a sniper bullet during Cairo’s already infamous Tahrir Square demonstrations. The exhibition is then by its very nature a complex one – a video of one of Basiouny’s 2010 performance pieces, from which the Pavilion this year takes its name, will be shown alongside raw footage shot by Basiouny himself at Tahrir Square – retrieved from his computer after his death. Both act as documentary footage of past events, rather than as video works per se and will be accompanied by a soundtrack engineered by artist Magdi Mostafa. It is a set up that could quite easily become clichéd and hackneyed, drawing on the sensationalism of the revolution and emotional resonances of Basiouny’s martyr- dom rather than on the work itself, something of which curators Aida Eltorie and Shady El- Noshokaty are more aware than anyone. “Above all, this is meant to be about the life of an artist,” explains Eltorie. “We can’t forget that the actual Pavilion is about the Biennale – we’re not here to make political statements. We allow the art- ist to do that. As he’s dead, we had to take on the responsibility of how best to represent him without disrespecting the transitional regime in Egypt that’s helping us.” Both Eltorie and El- Noshokaty note that the tragedy in all of this is that, had he lived, Basiouny might not have been selected for the Egyptian Pavilion. How- ever, he has, and in doing so, marks the first time that the Pavilion has veered away from the more traditional media of painting and sculpture. “ 30 Days of Running in the Place happened at a very significant time for Basiouny,” explains Eltorie, “he was 32 years-old at the time, roughly the same age as Mubarak’s regime.” The performance piece sees Basiouny use various new media soft- ware to read heat and energy levels emitted by his body for an hour a day over 30 days, trans- lated into a visual representation, addressing “the wasted energy produced in a visual image,” according to El-Noshokaty. This footage, along with that shot in Tahrir Square, will be joined by footage of workshops conducted by Basiouny to “give the audience the experience of his character and of life in Egypt,” says Eltorie. “Egypt is very much about simulta- neousness – it’s hard to call it an order, perhaps it’s a chaotic order – and we wanted to bring out that experience, as well as that of the revolution, through his works. It was a very personal expe- rience, not what the world was seeing on CNN and BBC, who were filming from buildings and balconies – Basiouny was right in the thick of it.” So, while the curatorial focus of the Pavilion is on Basiouny the artist, not Basiouny the martyr, it will be hard to avoid the latter. “This project is sensitive,” agrees El-Noshokaty. “We want to in- troduce Basiouny the artist and honour him as one. It’s very clear in our curatorial statements – this project is not about the Egyptian revolution and we, as a team, refused to produce it as such, ArTIST: Ahmed Basiouny CoMMISSIonEr: Egypt Ministry of Culture CUrATor: Aida Eltorie ExECUTIVE CUrATor: Shady El-Noshokaty MULTIMEDIA EnGInEErInG: Magdi Mostafa THEME: 30 Days of Running In The Place ADDrESS: Giardini di Castello WEBSITE : www.ahmedbasiony.com partly because a revolution such as this needs a lot of time to fully understand. The changes in Egypt haven’t finished yet.” Easier said than done, however, and one must ask – if the focus is not on the revolution, then why show foot- age of Tahrir Square? “This is a topic that we have discussed at length,” admits Mostafa. “At the end of the day, what is important is that yes, this video was captured in the middle of the action, but above and beyond that, it is the last video to be shot by the artist with his own hands – footage that he paid for with his life.” A sobering presentation, the soundtrack to accompany the five video screens is being produced by Mostafa from music composed by Basiouny over the last two years. “I’m making a selection of the most important pieces he was creating and I’m working on the sound quality to create them into a surround-sound multi- channel piece,” explains Mostafa, a close friend of Basiouny’s and also an artist. “Sound can give you certain energies – different sounds can change the feel of the same image; sound can make you feel sad or happy, or simply enhance the way you are.” The sadness in all of this is the dedication with which Mostafa, Eltorie and El-Noshokaty have pieced together Basiouny’s footage and the circumstances which led to his presence at the Biennale in the first place. “He was a brilliant in- teractive artist, so Avant-garde in his ideas and the kinds of projects he produced,” says El-Noshokaty. “He was completely neglected his whole life [on the international art stage] and I think people need to see that this sort of art is being produced in Egypt.” BY AnnA WALLACE-THoMPSon This video... is the last video to be shot by [Bassiouny] with his own hands – footage that he paid for with his life. ” “ VENICE BIENNALE SPECIAL FEATURE If ever there was a time for Con- temporary Iraqi artists to re- ceive international recognition on a high profile platform such as the Venice Biennale, the time is now. Following a 35-year absence from the cultural event, largely due to the country’s longstanding political conflicts, the Iraq Pavilion returns this year with a theme very much in tune with contemporary issues – that of water resources (or lack thereof ) in Iraq. “We chose Wounded Water because we wanted to get away from the subject of war,” explains Rome-based international curator Mary An- gela Schroth. “Water is the single most relevant aspect of our daily life, especially in Iraq. It is a real and fundamental social issue across the board. And of course, water is a subject of Venice as well.” Along with participating Iraqi artist and Commissioner Ali Assaf, Schroth sought out art- ists who represented two generations, selecting ones who had borne the colossal weight of their country’s history, and a second generation of the Diaspora. The result? An amalgam of talents that includes Assaf, Azad Nanakeli, Walid Siti, Adel Abidin, Ahmed Alsoudani and Halim Al-Karim. “Those were the artists that we thought would make a fascinating Pa- vilion,” says Schroth. “There were others which would have been interesting as well, but they were capricious or linked to certain political parties. We wanted a situation where there was harmony amongst the art- ists and to have a broad vision of Iraqi art.” Beyond choosing the participating artists and the curation of the works, Schroth’s role was also to secure funding for the project, a dicey endeav- our but one made possible thanks to the support of the Patrons Committee, co-chaired by Shwan Ibrahim Taha, a young Iraqi entrepreneur and Reem Shather-Kubba, the latter whom Schroth affectionately dubs ‘Saint Reem’. “Being passion- ate about Iraqi art, it was a natural stepping-stone to get involved,” smiles Shather-Kubba. “I was de- lighted to have people view this as a landmark opportunity. It has been a challenge and we have had a few setbacks, but we formulated a dream team of patrons and corporate sponsors. It really has been about approaching certain people that we know and from there, there is a ripple effect.” With the support of Honorary Patron Zaha Hadid ( Canvas 3.2 and 6.6), a major grant from the Arab Fund for Arts and Culture, as well as other indi- vidual and corporate contributors, the Pavilion had achieved 85 per cent of the funding at the time of press. Another key element to the project’s pro- duction is the venue, which, much to the delight of the artists, is an 11th-century building with an architectural structure that befits the space’s na- tional representation. “The site at the Gervasuti Foundation is beautiful and very unique, as it is between the Giardini and Arsenale,” adds Shather-Kubba. With each of the six artists shar- ing their musings on their country’s water situa- tion through their works, themes of rebuilding and war undoubtedly seep into their oeuvres . “It is important for me to revisit my homeland in my ArTISTS: Ali Assaf, Azad Nanakeli, Walid Siti, Adel Abidin, Ahmed Alsoudani ( Canvas 5.5) and Halim Al-Karim. CoMMISSIonEr: Ali Assaf Co-CoMMISSIonEr: Vittorio Urbani CUrATor: Mary Angela Schroth. THEME: Acqua Ferita/ Wounded Water ADDrESS: Gervasuti Foundation, Fondamenta S Ana (Via Garibaldi) Castello 995, between Giardini and Arsenale. WEBSITE: www.pavilionofiraq.org Clockwise from top right: Ahmed Alsoudani. (Detail) Untitled. 2011. Charcoal, acrylic and oil on canvas. 160 x 156.2 cm. Photography by Jeffrey Sturges. Image courtesy Haunch of Venison. Artist Adel Abidin. Photography by Martin Jaeger. Curator of the Iraq Pavilion, Mary Angela Schroth. Photography by Giulia Corsi. VENICE BIENNALE SPECIAL FEATURE iraq Acqua Ferita/Wounded Water 77 work, which alludes to its struggles and the idea of chaos,” explains New York-based Alsoudani, who is bringing four paintings to the Biennale. The untitled acrylic on canvas pieces comprise myriad fragmented colours and forms against a blue backdrop. Despite maintaining that he didn’t strictly adhere to the Pavilion’s subject matter, his works can be perceived as a reflec- tion of the complexity of Iraq’s desolated and divided society. Rome resident Assaf’s two art- works – a video, Narciso , and the installation Al- Basrah, The Venice Of tYhe East , will be mounted in different rooms and draw inspiration from the artist’s recent visit to his native city of Al-Basrah. Once referred to as ‘The Paris of the Orient’ with its abundant greenery and river, Shatt Al-Arab, Assaf was shocked by the city’s current dearth of water during his last voyage. “My works manifest the feelings that I experienced when I first saw this,” he says. “I was sad and nostalgic.” Al-Karim, who was born in 1963 in Najaf, has created an ambitious installation composed of three works; Nations Laundry , a three-channel video, an untitled photograph covered with black silk and another video, Hidden Revolution Al-Karim’s pieces hark back to his homeland and the idea of “overcoming the effects of politics and deceptions and in turn, transforming myself and the camera into a single truth-seeking entity.” Kurdish artist Nanakeli’s installation AU (water in Kurdish) and video installation Destnuej, which means purification, directly reference the envi- Organised by Echo, a not-for-profit organi- sation which aims to promote and support Contemporary Iraqi art and is founded and directed by Rijin Sahakian, the Pavilion also includes Iraqi filmmaker Oday Rasheed’s short film Tigris (and other bodies of work), which cen- tres on the works and lifestyles of Baghdad- based artists Ahmed Nussayif, Ridah Farhan and Furat Al-Jamil. Presented by the Arizona State University, a panel discussion moderated by Gordon Knox, Richard Toon and Sahakian entitled A Fluid Resistance will take place at the Fondazione Quirini Stampalia on 4 June. The talk, which features various artists and scien- tists, will broach subjects pertaining to creative practises in contemporary Iraq. This impressive line-up of works and events presents the Iraq Pavilion with a unique – and long overdue – opportunity to showcase its nation’s burgeoning artistic community, all the while raising awareness of a subject pivotal to the country’s rebuilding. “I want to put Iraq back on the map, and I want its artists to be rec- ognised,” says Schroth. “This is going to be a real illumination for people to see.” BY TALA CHUKrI I want to put Iraq back on the map, and I want its artists to be recognised. ” “ ronmental issue at hand and, as the artist explains, evoke the “toxic and nuclear waste and chemi- cals” present in Kurdistan’s groundwater. Abidin is based in Finland and his video installation, Con- sumption of War , relays the notion of water as an elicitor of conflict, as he believes that “the next war will be a water war”. Kurdish artist Siti’s work Meso , composed of acrylic twill, Mylar mirror, a fishing line and wood, is based on an aerial view seen by the artist of Kurdistan’s Great Zab River. “When I flew over it recently, I was shocked by the short- age of water and I think this is a great opportunity to shed light on a very real problem,” he says. His other piece, Beauty Spot , features a large-scale im- age of the Iraqi dinar banknote and depicts the Gali Ali Beg waterfall in Kurdistan, a major tour- ist attraction that dries out in hot weather and requires water to be pumped artificially in order to keep it running. One too many ironies took place as Saudi artist sisters Shadia and Raja Alem sat in Venice’s Marco Polo Airport, waiting to board their flight to Paris. That November day was the ninth day in the Is- lamic month of Dhu Al-Hijjah, when a fifth of the world’s population stands vigil on the plains of Mount Arafat in Mecca as part of the Islamic Hajj pilgrimage. “And we were doing the opposite!” laughs Shadia, “we were in Venice, the Mecca of the art world in a sense, to create an artwork.” An airport announcement was made and the sisters looked at each other in surprise, as though a rev- elation had become apparent. “The announce- ment mentioned Marco Polo Airport and we immediately thought of Ibn Battuta and Marco Polo,” says Raja, drawing parallels between the Moroccan Muslim and Venetian Christian travel- lers who had recorded their extensive journeys in what became renowned books. While the day’s significance and the airport’s namesake help carve a preliminary sphere of understanding into the sis- ters’ approach to The Black Arch – their artwork for the first-ever Saudi Pavilion – the central narrative takes its cue from the Biennale’s title, ILLUMInations It does so specifically through the notion of “trav- elling outside yourself and then inside yourself to become illuminated,” adds Raja. The Mecca-born sisters cite a bedtime story told to them by their grandmother, of a king who took his queen to a castle with 1000 doors and told her she had the liberty of opening all but one. Unable to resist temptation, the queen opened the forbidden door “and moved from the individual [sense of being] to a whole new world, a totally new experience,” says Shadia. The idea of crossing to ‘the other side’ for the sake of enlightenment is The Black Arch ’s focal point, as is the tackling of similarities between Mecca and Venice. Aside from people flocking to both cities for enlightenment (spiritual for Mecca and artistic for Venice), both enjoy their roles as major trading ports and centres of cultural gathering. History is dotted with accounts of the Is- lamic world’s impact on the Venetian economy and culture, particularly as the lagoon’s trade neighbours included Alexandria, Cairo, Istanbul and Damascus. From pigments imported from the Ottomans for use in Venetian paintings and the Latin acqui- sitions and translations of Islamic physician and philosopher Ibn Sina’s (Avicenna) texts, to Islamic technology providing the basis for the Venetian Murano glass industry, relations between the Islamic world and the European port city flour- ished in the 15th and 16th centuries. (Incidentally, Below: Virtual rendering of Shadia and Raja Alem’s The Black Arch 2011. Stainless steel, cast iron, fabric and stone with projected photographic images and sound installation. Arch: 350 x 700 x 20 cm. Cube: 100 x 100 cm. 3457 steel balls. Diamter: 7.4 cm each. Left: Raja and Shadia Alem. Images courtesy Kingdom of Saudi Arabia Pavilion. © Shadia Alem. The Black Arch saudi arabia Raja co-won the International Prize for Arab Fic- tion, a prize established in collaboration with the Booker Prize Foundation, for her The Dove’s Neck- lace , a novel based on Meccan society and which takes its name from a book by Islamic scholar Ibn Hazm). Mecca and Venice go a long way back and the sisters aim to reflect on contem- porary similarities too – namely, the gathering of cultures to each city. “There is a very natural fit between the two cities,” adds co-curator Robin Start, who, aside from running London’s The Park Gallery, has been involved in Saudi Contempo- rary art for years and, following Edge of Arabia ’s inaugural Platform at the Venice Biennale in 2009, approached the Saudi Ministry of Culture with the belief that the Kingdom ought to par- ticipate in the Biennale. “ The Black Arch is about movement, light and reflection,” adds co-curator Mona Khazindar, Director General of the Institut du Monde Arabe, “it’s a very original, powerful, magical, poetic installation.” The curators had approached five artists – Abdulnasser Gharem, Ahmed Mater ( Canvas 7.1), Faisal Samra ( Canvas 1.2), Mahdi Al-Jeraibi and the sisters, asking each to produce a site-specific installation after view- ing the space in Venice. “The other artists had submitted very powerful proposals, but which were perhaps not totally adapted to the context of an international event like the Venice Bien- nale,” explains Khazindar; “The work by the Alem sisters was chosen based on its adaptation to the Biennale’s concept, the originality of their theme and the force of the actual work.” The work’s principle segment is a 350 x 700 x 20 cm arch surrounded by 3457 stainless steel balls – viewers are reflected onto the work and vice versa in an intentional attempt by the art- ists to engage the audience, making it part of the artwork. “Each ball is like a universe or a nation and they all reflect each other,” explains Raja, “this is what happens with humans too – when you get exposed to any culture, you reflect your own and take in the reflection of the other culture. The balls resemble the interaction of illumination, the exchange between nations.” The actual arch is an oval form – the shape can suggest a crescent, Noah’s ark, Venetian gondolas, the human eye, a circling orbit and so on. But there’s sound and photography too, captured from both cities. The experience the sisters had in Mecca – veiled and clad in abayas, armed with a camera and sound- recording equipment, was fraught with difficulty but was an event which marked their first time in the holy city as artists on a mission. “Because we grew up in Mecca, we’re somehow programmed to feel a certain way when we hear its sounds or view its sights,” says Shadia; “With this experience we weren’t 100 per cent responsive to its holy as- pect and didn’t feel spiritual as such because we had a specific objective.” The sisters covered the ground – the sights and sounds of Mecca’s souks, its Holy Mosque and markets – and also shot footage from high above, where Shadia says the view of the assemblage of worshippers “created a patchwork, a mosaic of colours”. Within the arch are, among others, pebbles gathered from Muz- dalifah as part of the Hajj ritual of the stoning of the devil to cleanse oneself of sins. “You gather all the negative moments in your life and get rid of them metaphorically through this act,” explains Raja, “so there is a moment of cleansing in our work, a re- cycling of energy.” Dante’s Divine Comedy may come to mind – the soul’s cleansing in Pur- gatory defines a pause in its journey before its next destination. One may wonder why the arch is in fact black. “It’s the colour of the Holy Kaa’ba and its Black Stone and also of Saudi women in their abayas,” says Shadia. “Black is the col- our of darkness, the unknown, of mystery and ambiguity, and the whole artwork speaks of the transition to light and illumi- nation, so you have to cross to see what’s beyond.” BY MYrnA AYAD The idea of crossing to ‘the other side’ for sake of enlightenment is The Black Arch ’s focal point, as is the tackling of similarities between Mecca and Venice. ArTISTS: Shadia and Raja Alem CoMMISSIonEr: Abdulaziz Alsebail CUrATorS: Mona Khazindar and Robin Start THEME: The Black Arch SITE: Arsenale WEBSITE: www.saudipavilionvenice.com VENICE BIENNALE SPECIAL FEATURE There was something about the miniature aspect of the 2009 Turkish Pavilion, as Banu Cennetoglu’s CATALOGU 2009 and Ahmet Ögüt’s Exploded City were both housed within a small temporary space attached to the main Arsenale. The Pavilion, Lapses , curated by Ba- sak Senova with Nazli Gürlek, received critical acclaim for its exploration of historical narra- tives and the ‘lapses’ in our collective memory. Where both Cennetoglu and Ögüt were artists of a younger generation, this year, the Pavilion, Plan B , has chosen internationally recognised Ayşe Erkmen as its sole star. “The challenge is for us to strike a balance between emerg- ing and established artists in the context of the Venice Biennale,” explains Deniz Ova of commissioning body Istanbul Foundation for Culture and Arts (IKSV). “It is a great honour to work with Erkmen; she has made her name on the international Contemporary art scene through her boldly influential art works, of which Plan B will become one.” This is something echoed by cu- rator Fulya Erdemci: “In previous edi- tions [of the Turkey Pavilion] mostly young and emerging artists have been given the floor. I felt it was time to re-evaluate the bal- ance between established and emerging artists in this context.” The choice of one artist to represent the Turkish art scene was also one carefully considered by Erdemci and her curatorial collaborator Danae Mossman. “A subtle and conceptually strong exhibition with the participation of more than one art- ist necessitates special attention,” explains Er- demci. “It also needs concentration and time on the part of visitors to process it – the links between the various projects may pass unno- ticed. We felt one strong project works better in such a context.” A strong curatorial-artistic relationship between Erkmen, Erdemci and Mossman can be credited for the realisation of this project, along with unwavering government support for Turkey’s attendance at the Venice Biennale. Having worked together at the Fifth Scape Bi- ennial of Art in Public Space in Christchurch, New Zealand in 2008, co-curated by Erdemci and Mossman, the three have worked via “e- mail, telephone and Skype discussing almost every aspect of the project and event,” accord- ing to Erdemci. The Pavilion also has strong support from IKSV and is sponsored by Fiat and held under the patronage of the Turkish Minis- try of Foreign Affairs with the Promotion Fund of the Turkish Prime Minister. With an advisory committee that is chosen every two years, “the tradition is that each curator of the Pavilion be- comes one of these committee members for the next time around,” explains Ova; “This gives the possibility for them to share their experi- ences and grow with the project.” Space is also an integral part of this year’s participation – a marked difference from 2009, Plan B turkey ArTIST: Ayşe Erkmen CoMMISSIonEr: Istanbul Foundation for Culture and Arts CUrATor: Fulya Erdemci CUrATorIAL CoLLABorATor: Danae Mossman THEME: Plan B ADDrESS: Arsenale WEBSITE: www.iksv.org/english VENICE BIENNALE SPECIAL FEATURE 81 when the small Pavilion confounded more than one visitor looking for it in the main Arsenale. “The Pavilion of Turkey is in the main building of the Arsenale this year,” says Erdemci. “It is a beautiful, spacious venue with a window over- looking the canal and access to the outside promenade – this specific room has visible trac- es of machines and shows that, historically, this was a place of production. We took the quality of the venue literally and Erkmen responded to it situation-specifically and context-responsibly with a sculptural installation.” The work, after which the Pavilion is named, is a site-specific project created by Erkmen using both its locations as its starting point. Known for working in various media, from in- stallation and intervention to photography and animation, Erkmen has built a reputation for using her environment to draw the attention of the viewer to it and heighten our awareness of the spaces and structures involved. Plan B is, in essence, a water-purifying system which will take over the entire space of the Pavilion, with various stations and components con- nected by pipes to create one large network of flowing liquid. This process will result in clean water which will then be returned to the ca- nal, “a futile, yet courageous gesture against the overwhelming scale of the canal and the ocean,” according to Erdemci. While the work is open to interpretation, there are parallels to the flowing of various elements – blood in the human body and ‘capital flowing through borders’, the title itself refers to the ubiquitous back-up to the failure of a ‘Plan A’ to material-