Soap towers inscribed with emotive words, an isolated elevated stilt house, a colorful embroidered map marking global migration, and sets of mangrove plants that slide quietly in and out of the water. These are just some of the 177 conceptual art installations on display at the second edition of the Diriyah Biennale, which is being held in Saudi Arabia’s capital, Riyadh.
Until May 24, title of the biennial After the rain it refers to a sense of growth and revitalization and was inspired by a particular earthy smell that emerges from dry soil after a rain, “petrichor”. The theme of this year’s exhibition is the earth, its natural resources, its inhabitants and the environmental concerns, such as sea level rise and heat, which they collectively face. A total of 100 multidisciplinary artists, who delve into textiles, film, performance, painting, sculpture and crafts, from 43 countries participate.
Portrait of curator Ute Meta Bauer
Photo: Christine Fenzl
“We live in an environment that is challenged by climate change. Food, water and shelter are precious for many at this time. Many do not have it”, says the artistic director of the biennale, the curator and university professor born in Stuttgart, Ute Meta Bauer . The Journal of Art. “We see the conflict but we don’t see the real reason behind it and a lot of it it is often about access to basic needs. I wanted to show this but in a more subtle, less journalistic way and through the language of artists.”
Spanning 12,900 square meters of exhibition space in six airy exhibition halls, the event is located in the JAX District, a warehouse-turned-arts center. Many works are not “subtle” in terms of scale. They are, in fact, monumental.
Detail of El Anatsui’s Logarithm logo (2019)
Photo by Alessandro Brasile, courtesy of the Diriyah Biennial Foundation
Take for example the remarkable Ghanaian artist El Anatsui, who recently exhibited a huge hanging piece in the Turbine Hall at London’s Tate Modern. At the biennale he presents an outstanding installation, like a labyrinth, made of curtains of hundreds of sewn bottle caps. It is both physically and metaphorically a multi-layered work, which addresses the themes of colonial imports, consumption and waste. The piece is called “Logarithm of Logoligi”, where “logoligi” means snake in the Ghanaian language of Ga.
In another dimly lit room, five types of enlarged water containers, resembling landmarks, glow in the dark. The sculptures were conceived by Kuwaiti-Puerto Rican sculptor and filmmaker Alia Farid and began as the series Instead of what it is in 2019 on the border between Iraq and Kuwait. “Its reflective, glass-like surfaces radiate a fragility that invokes the complexities of fresh water resources in Kuwait,” according to a text published by the biennial.
The sculptural work is accompanied by a film called “Chibayish” (a wetland town in southern Iraq), where Farid documents his interactions with three marsh boys, describing their way of life while caring for a water buffalo. In recent years, the media have indicated that these vulnerable swamps are drying up and suffering from decades of drought and political instability.
Foreground: Alia Farid Instead of what was (2019)
Photo by Marco Cappelletti, courtesy of the Diriyah Biennial Foundation
For Bauer, the goal was for the show to be a fluid and emotionally engaging experience where the works do all the talking. “It’s still a new experience for the population and I really wanted to make an understandable show, where people can experience and don’t need to read long texts on the wall. You don’t need to have studied art history to understand if you see the work of art is shocking,” he adds. “I had to convince the biennale not to build walls. I wanted to have an open space, determined by the works of art.”
The Diriyah Biennial is just one of many cultural projects that have been launched recently in different parts of the Kingdom, as part of an overall plan to develop a domestic art scene. “I really hope it’s not seen as just a commercial entity,” Bauer says of the country’s cultural expansion. “I really hope that the deep value of art is seen as something invaluable and not just tied to a market. I’m not against the market; artists have to live and survive, but I really want them to see art as part of life.”
