Forty-eight hours in Venice during the opening days of the 61st Biennale Arte and you realize pretty quickly that the city runs on two things at this time of year: Seeing the art that’s on show—and the aperitivo; that golden hour when the day stops and the cocktails begin to flow, and, well, don’t ever really stop.
That was evident at the not one, but two parties Bvlgari threw in honor of the three artists they’re supporting as part of a broader partnership between the Roman jewelry house and the Biennale until 2030: Lotus L. Kang from Toronto, Lara Favaretto who’s based in Turin, and Monia Ben Hamouda, who works between al-Qayrawan and Milan.
Kang’s site-specific installation, a meditation on place, time, and memory, is at the Bvlgari Pavilion in the Giardini della Biennale, with colorful spools of film unravelling, ceramic birds clustered on the ceiling, and bottles of liquor from her native Korea dotted around the floor.
Meanwhile over at the Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, works from Favaretto and Ben Hamouda are presented under rooms whose ceilings were painted by Titian. From Ben Hamouda, a striking work which features two neon flames engulfing opposing walls, while Favaretto’s long industrial shelving units containing her own vintage books—each tome holding images folded neatly inside—are an exercise in intimacy, tactility, and the cruciality of access to information. With hers, it’s a case of do touch the art. Say, by opening Darwin’s L’Origine Delle Specie with a kitschy faux-antiquity picture of cherubs gambolling in a bucolic landscape, or peering at the mysterious image of a man walking that’s tucked into Pasolini’s Ragazzi di Vita—a book with a cover so fantastic I would have happily pocketed it. (I didn’t.)
Kang had the first party, held at the art-filled Venice Venice Hotel (Bruce Nauman, Christo, Yoko Ono, et al.) It was a tight, packed affair; namely because the party was held a whisker away from the Ponte di Rialto, the water still beckoning even on a grey, gloomy Venetian early evening. It was cheek to jowl, so you had to carefully maneuver to sip some Ruinart champagne or an Erose Gin Martini or navigate eating a very delicious crostino with amberjack carpaccio, or saor-style prawns on polenta. The vibe was definitely celebratory—and why wouldn’t it be? This is Kang’s first time showing at the Biennale, so friends and well-wishers came in their droves to congratulate her.
The next evening’s cocktail was held at the Biblioteca Nazionale Marciana, where the crowd worked their way through Favoretto’s bookshelves. For Bvlgari’s Laura Burdese, the house’s deputy CEO, the two days were a vindication of taking a quieter, more measured approach to support for the Biennale; letting the art and the artists breathe, and respectfully and sensitively not bombarding the event with brand messaging. “It’s been about showing our shared vision,” she said of the relationship between Bvlgari and the Biennale, “which is to celebrate art and artists in all their forms. That creativity and imagination have no boundaries.” And for Burdese, while she’s proud that Bvlgari is supporting three unique women artists, Monia Ben Hamouda’s participation is particularly special.
The artist, whose work thoughtfully navigates Western art and Islamic art in honour of her Italian and Tunisian heritage, was a winner of the MAXXI Bvlgari art prize last year, an initiative between the house and the MAXXI art museum in Rome.
Her flame neons licked up the walls to the Titian painting aloft, which is entitled The Knowledge, and her work was a clever consideration of learning, and how it can be manipulated, denied, and controlled. As the art crowd surged into the room, her work casting a red glow over them, she was thrilled to be taking part in the Biennale. “When I was a student, I would come and sneak into the events,” Ben Hamouda said, laughing. “But to be here now, showing my work, well, it’s a dream.”
