This year, I’ve learned it’s not easy to get over a hangover - and even harder when it’s an art hangover, following five intense days chugging, shotgunning, and guzzling down the Venice Biennale and all its collateral events from the Venezia Santa Lucia station to the edge of the lagoon.
It’s taken me about a week to clear my head and understand exactly how I feel about the current incarnation of this incredible art fest. Plus a day to get over my Biennale backstory.
Fall 1999. I worked at the US Pavilion (Ann Hamilton’s exhibition Myein) at the 48th Biennale as part of my Peggy Guggenheim Collection fellowship. Translation: I opened the pavilion every morning, closed it every evening, sat in a hidden room most of the day. (The hidden bathroom is still there, I checked.) On occasion I gave Biennale tours to PGC donors and collectors, but most of the time I had the pavilion and the Giardini to myself. It was the tail end of the six-month event, which in those days was pretty much a “for art people, by art people” kind of thing.
In the years that followed, I grew up and so did the Biennale. I became a freelance writer and a Preview Week habituée, those three marvellous days before opening when accredited press had the run of the show, before the real world entered. The Biennale outgrew the Giardini and Arsenale, with national pavilions taking over random palazzi across the islands, and renegade shows and collateral events popping up in abandoned storefronts.
Eventually, Preview Week evolved into a constellation of artists, journalists, art luminaries, curators, collectors, gallerists, and especially Eva & Adele, the art world’s hermaphrodtic twins from the future. It was glitzy but still a little rough around the edges and just enough the edge of artsy, that when I made my bi-annual pilgrimage to Venice, no one really had any idea what I was doing, or why, nor did they care. It was glorious.
May 2026. Preview Week has outgrown my nostalgia. There are big time sponsors like Bulgari and big time yachts There is even a signature drink. And in spite of the protests and politics, it has become the Coachella of the Art World, where who you talk to, what you’re wearing, and which party you’re going to are just as important as waiting in the long lines to get into a pavilion. And though I did bump into Pussy Riot, Maurizio Cattelan, and Adele (Eva passed away last year), the Preview Week vibe is high school ifrom a John Hughes film with the main cast being artsy.
So yes, I’ve become That Person. You know, rolling my eyes and saying things like “The Biennale used to be so much better. So much more wild”. But guess what? It’s time to get over myself and my Biennale baggage and just enjoy the art.
Should you go?
Yes. Unequivocally.
Babies. Bells. Bodily Fluids, plus some hell-bent rage, postcards, environmental pondering, escape rooms, moles and more. There is a lot of art here, and a lot of art experiences — none of them boring*. And ignore what I wrote above, the Biennale is not a cool kid event. That’s just Preview Week. The Biennale itself is six months of art watching, open to anyone willing to show up.
Out of the gate, this Biennale has caused a lot of noise and news articles - the protests, the jury resignations, the pavilion walkouts, and the politics. You may have heard that it’s a shit show, it sucked, it’s too commercial and it should be discontinued. And because of all that noise, the Coachella effect has pushed the Biennale, contemporary art, and Venice (back) into the mainstream conversation.
I have never have so many people ask me about the Biennale and if they should go. People who have never thought twice about contemporary art want to catch a peek. And I’m happy because this year’s Biennale is fun, insane, heart-breaking and great.
I’ve put together my list of favorite pavilions at the Giardini and Arsenale. But as I wrote in this Forbes article, the Biennale has spread all over the island, and right now there is no better place to see contemporary art and use it as an excuse to explore every sestiere. And there is no better time to see Venice.
My Hit List: Pavilions I Loved
My advice? Start out in the Gardens and head straight to the back, past Hungary and over the bridge to the complex the has Austria, Brazil and more. There are about 10 pavilions and each one is an adventure.
Austrian Pavilion — Florentina Holzinger, Seaworld, Naked women, a bell, a SeaDoo, a weathervane, an immersion tank and two portapotties. Insane, aggressive and incredible.
Polish Pavilion — Bogna Burska & Daniel Kotowski, Liquid Tongues A choir of hearing and Deaf performers singing whale songs in sign language. Somehow the most moving thing in the Giardini.
Greek Pavilion — Andreas Angelidakis, Escape Rome Plato’s Cave reimagined as a BDSM escape room. Smarter than you expect.
Japan Pavilion — El Arawaka-Nash, Grass Babies, Moon Babies Two hundred baby dolls, a diaper-changing ritual, and the sound of the artist’s own twins echoing through the space. You cannot not love it.
Belgian Pavilion — Miet Warlop, IT NEVER SSST, Rage, tension, physical ritual, and a little bit of joy. .
Danish Pavilion — Maja Malou Lyse,Things To Come, Science says virtual sexual stimuli increases sperm motility. The Danish pavilion makes it fun.
Arsenale Overwhelming. There is a lot of artwork in the one-kilometre. Alfred Jaar The End of the World Big Chief Demond Melacon- Larger than life beaded work
India Pavilion — Geographies of Distance Five artists, five material languages — thread, bamboo, earth, paper, discarded matter — all asking the same question: what remains of home when the place itself is gone.
Irish Pavilion — Isabel Nolan, Dreamshook Her take on mythological tapestries.
Chile - Norton Maza, Inter-Reality A large-scale immersive environment rooted in Baroque tradition that asks what's real, what's simulated, and who decides. Slow down, let it work on you.
Luxembourg Pavilion — Aline Bouvy, La Merde A talking piece of shit. Genuinely trippy. Unforgettable. The Biennale needed it.
Turkey Pavilion — Nilbar Güreş, A Kiss on the Eyes Large-scale sculptures made collaboratively with metalworkers, tailors, and craftspeople in Istanbul.
If you’re planning a trip to Venice but don’t know where to stay: check out my latest list of hotels of hotels from budget to luxe. And for the full behind-the-scenes scoop, download my guide Venice with Ciao Bella, or just book a conversation with me and I’ll make sure you have the best Biennale experience!
Thank you for this! I’m going to the Biennale for the first time next week and will keep your list of favorites in my back pocket
Thanks for sharing! Great read!