by Kristina (Reposting from October 2024)
Last week, my very special friend called and asked if I would join her for a visit to the Venice Biennale. I remembered reading an article about this Biennale sometime in winter or early spring and being amazed by the fact that it was dedicated to global immigration, which is why it’s called “Foreigners Everywhere.” A whole mega exhibition honoring and giving visibility to all of us who live in places that are not the land of our birth or that of our parents. Just imagine! Naturally, I agreed after a quick look at my calendar.
In most countries, being an immigrant is not easy. Even if you manage to blend in and mostly pass as a local, there will still be family members who don't—maybe they have an accent, different hair, or different eyes—and they will be treated differently. I’m not just talking about having dark hair in Germany; even being blonde in China can evoke reactions, sometimes of "admiration," but also occasionally disdain from strong nationalists towards someone from elsewhere.
A week ago, a colleague from another project asked me if I felt discriminated against in Germany, and after answering her question, I realized I had forgotten to mention something important. I told her that I hadn’t experienced much direct discrimination in my life. I recalled one specific instance, maybe when I was about 20, where a woman refused to buy a cinema ticket from me once she realized I wasn’t German. But that was rare.
I also shared that having a Slavic face often brings a different kind of discrimination, especially from men. German men, as well as men from other cultures, tend to sexualize Slavic women, associating them with poverty or pornography. When I mentioned coming back from Brazil after living there for a long time, several men changed how they looked at me. More than one openly told me they assumed it would be easy to "make advances" because of the stereotype of sexual openness in comparison to German women. These men came from all parts of society. But sexualization is a big topic, and I’ll need to continue that another time. Whenever someone skeptically asks me, “Do you really think women are still disadvantaged today?” I can only wish them to experience being a woman in their next life.
Back to my colleague: What I forgot to tell her is that my last name can also lead to discrimination. While this is probably less of an issue nowadays because I’ve built a bit of a reputation in my fields, you can never measure what you don’t get. At university, I’m sure I didn’t face any significant disadvantages. I studied in Heidelberg, where many students from all over the world gathered, and our professors respected us regardless of nationality. Still, I sometimes had the feeling—without proof—that decisions were made about me based solely on my name, without even meeting me, due to fixed ideas about foreigners.
In Germany, we also have the problem that even people of foreign descent can adopt discriminatory attitudes toward other foreigners. For instance, some refuse to rent apartments to people with foreign backgrounds because they assume they won’t pay on time or take care of the property properly.
Oops! I got a bit lost in my storytelling. Let me return to the Biennale, a tribute, a “femmage,” and most importantly, a “humanage” to so many of us around the world.
Among the many great works, here are a few that stood out to me:
Silent Supper by Milena ZeVu is presented in a side exhibition at the Venice Art Projects, associated with the Biennale. It’s an 11-minute video based on a performance with 11 performers, imagining the year 2084. In this future, people are almost fully supported by digital systems and mind transfer. The artist is both an advocate for and a skeptic of AI due to the challenge of regulating it properly to serve human development.
In the Chinese Pavilion, I admired Jiao Xingtao's work Soul – Rhyme. It’s a mix of deities from Buddhism, Hinduism, and Chinese traditions, all made from leftover copper. He fed photographs of these figures into an AI to show how one deity transforms into another. While the deeper message may not be immediately clear, I found the interplay of religious figures fascinating, reflecting the current mix of spiritual influences in our world.
The drawings Virgenes Cholas by La Chola Poblete made me both smile and reflect. Phrases like “Ahora todos somos negros,” which speaks to our shared genetic history, and “e que los hombres son todos iguales,” resonated deeply with me.
Comfort Work by Andrii Dostliev and Lia Dostlieva offers an ironic take by asking actors to portray “favorable” types of Ukrainian refugees. This piece makes a strong statement about the stereotyping of people in society. These are “comfortable refugees,” with one woman taking care of her beauty, another devastated and empty while waiting, and others embodying various stereotyped roles.
Shifting Sands: Battle Song by Manal AlDowayan is a powerful installation about the transformation of Saudi women. Like almost-burned books saved from complete destruction, women's written statements are collected, their voices humming in unison like the singing sands.
Luo Bi’s Flowers of Abundance is a stunning digital video installation about life’s constant transformation through interaction and interdependence. It’s simply beautiful to watch and listen to.
Sculpture Duo Installation – Discovering the Present from the Future by Orchirbold Ayurzana, in the Mongolian Pavilion, is an incredible display. Referring to the “Masters of the Charnel Ground,” it evokes a deeply spiritual feeling with skeleton ghosts seemingly guiding, warning, and inviting us into something deeply hidden and interconnected.
There are many more I could mention, but I’ll close with Paula Nicho Cumez’s paintings. She is a Maya artist exploring the beauty of bodies adorned with ancient and contemporary motifs. Her work speaks to her own experience of being forbidden to wear her traditional clothing in school, which she translates into a celebration of indigenous bodies reclaiming their cultural heritage.
I saw many artists addressing the themes of immigration, the consequences of global movements, and the demands for love, acceptance, peace, and respect for nature. No matter where people come from or what they believe in, as long as love is the foundation, we must all coexist. I hope more large exhibitions follow the example of this Biennale, including even those areas of the world with underrepresented art movements.
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