Following a crazy few days in Venice I've managed to escape the provincialism of Italy.I am in Frankfurt tonight on my way to Kassel tommorow. I have treated myself to a nice hotel room for the evening, which also happens to have wireless internet. So here you go my long awaited Venice updates:part one.

After a long plane ,then train ride I finally arrived in Venice on Saturday night. I had barely had a shower and left my bags when I was out to have a drink with Ruth Sacks and Bettina Malcolmess. I had heard that there were two parties that were happening; one for the Mexican pavilion and the other for a magazine called Nero, I was keen to pop in ,the flyer looked interesting. The others were tired from all the other parties so I went with a Dutch artist who I’d just met.

We walked and walked in the direction that we thought the party was, but as one does in Venice, we got lost. We followed all the signs that pointed to Mexico, and we eventually found it, but by that time the party was over. I was exhausted so I decided to give up finding the other party and opted for sleep instead.




On Sunday morning I headed to the Giardini for the official opening of La Biennale, there were many people when I arrived and more arrived once the speeches started. It was a lengthy talk…I had to concentrate to understand everything ,I am not really down with Italian artspeak so much.
Robert Storr addressed the crowd briefly and presented the golden lion to Malian photographer Malick Sidibé.I was crowd watching during his lengthy acceptance speech, when I spotted an ad for a Hiroshi Sugimoto show on at Villa Manin .I’ll have to pop in there, even though there is so much to see at La Biennale.


The lengthy speeches made it essential to start the day with some coffee, I think I could get used to the free Illy on tap all day.

The pavilion of the United States is where I begin my grand tour, it’s in the centre of the Giardini and is showing Felix-Gonzales Torres. I was in no way disappointed even though Torres has become such a household name ,and can be seen in any art journal. America ( the title of the show too) hangs in the space above a large sun mosaic in the entrance and can be seen as one approaches the pavilion. I collected my fill of Torres take away prints as do all the other visitors; the biennale rubbish bins are filled with them when I walk by.
Apart from the liquorice candy, the highlight was the piece in the courtyard in front of the pavilion. They are two large convex marble rounds in front of the pavillion which collect the rain creating puddles, beautiful.



I tried to make a systematic plan to see all the pavilions, it works out well except due to all the excitement I had forgotten to eat.I start to feel faint in Sophie Calle’s show, a break was necessary.
We head for the ‘bar’, I have only been here for a day and I am starting to get tired of paninni, it also annoys me how ladies are served ‘ladies’ sized beers!

I get through all the national pavilions in the Giardini on Sunday , it is quite a marathon I might need to come back again. I loved the Romanian pavilion it seemed to me like the ‘cleverist’ show. They had no funding for the show the young curator, had to make do with what they had. The walls where damp and marked and the pavilion looked empty, but the works that were on the show where tight and poignant. I enjoyed the catalogues that where not for sale and where shown as a work. This way the viewer had to engage with the material in the pavilion and inevitably start chatting to the curator who was very willing to give some political context for the show. My Romanian politics where not really up to scratch till then.

I’ve always liked Sophie Calle’s work so it was a real treat to see it in the flesh. The basic premise of the show was simple really, she got a hundred or so women to read and reinterpret a break- up email that she had received. What we were presented with was a collection of these interpretations in the form of text, sound images and video that filled the space from ceiling to floor.



The Spanish pavilion was showing three artists, I enjoyed the work of Ruben Ramos Balsa very much .In a darkened room he presented works using light bulbs, speakers and sound. My favorite piece was a very subtle piece that hung just near the entrance. It was a standard light bulb with a projection of little tap dancing feet inside the bulb; a subtle soundtrack of tapping feet accompanied the piece.

In the German pavilion only twenty-five people were allowed in at a time, so a queue formed outside the building very quickly. This made me really curious to see what was inside.
I was very disappointed, I really didn’t get it and the work was not even beautifully made to make up for the blank reading of the work. Hmmm.



The British pavilion was also somewhat disappointing , but that could be because I have never really enjoyed Tracey Emin’s work. The neon texts where pretty; the ones on the façade were very ‘what-if –the –world’ complete with a sketchy bird on the perch. The Emin merchandise was great though; there were bags, hats and even tattoo transfers of one of her drawings. I was bought in ,I left with a bag and a tattoo transfer.I don’t know where I am going to put all my Biennale paraphernalia.

I leave the Italian pavilion for last. I am really tired so will have to come back to see this one again. I have heard that the show makes more sense when it is seen parallel to it’s other component at the Arsenale.

I am exhausted and my feet are sore, I stumble back to my hostel (which I should mention is beautiful, it’s an old cloister complete with a courtyard off my room right next to a canal, sigh…). I am going to meet all the South Africans for dinner near to the accademia I am determined not to get lost! I arrive at the table which could very well have been in Cape Town, Minetter Vari, Sue Williamson, Penny Siopis , an English Couple, Joost from Michael Stevenson, Mikhael Subotzky, Storm Janse Van Rensurg, Bettina Malcomess and myself . Ruth doesn’t join us she is having Dinner with the African pavilion crew.
Dinner is ok, I haven’t had good food since I have arrived, after dinner we head to the Hague bar for drinks. We arrive but it is already closed, the vernissage hype seems to be over already. We opt for the Bauer Hotel. It’s really fancy and pretentious, complete with a pianist and a jazz singer. I don’t stay very long I refuse to pay 12 Euro’s for a whiskey!
On my way out I spot a man with a ‘Go Bokke’ t-shirt I can’t believe my eyes, it's definately time for bed.