The 9th Havana Bienal: a reportback
by Sue Williamson
In the years that German chocolate baron Peter Ludwig gave financial support to the Havana Bienal, shipping of the artists' work was paid for, no problem. Now that there is no longer that kind of support, and many artists have to pay for their own work to go, large sculptural installations and canvases sent from the home country become prohibitive, and videotapes or packets of photographs are sent, or brought with the artists, instead. Thus does the financial imperative dictate the look of a biennale.
Only a Pascale Martine Tayou has the self confidence to arrive with nothing in hand, look at his space, look around, pick up a saw, cut up some dead plant material - branches, long palm fronds - construct an elegant bushy growth in the middle of the vaulted space, scatter handfuls of white rocks around on the floor, and hang some discarded plastic bags and other detritus on the branches of his bushes. An instant beautiful but degraded landscape, one which might be viewed from the window of a car driving just about anywhere through Africa.
At least Havana as a city has the political and cultural will to keep their Bienal going, no matter what. Which is more than can be said for the city of Johannesburg. And thus the Havana Bienal, now in its 9th manifestation, remains one of the more important biennales of the world, a critical showcasing for the work of artists of the Caribbean, Central and Latin America, Asia and Africa, a significant and potent voice from the south.
Under the presidency of Alejandro Rojas Blaquier, the directorship of Ruben del Valle Lantaron and eight curators, the theme of this year's Bienal was 'Dynamics of the Urban Culture', 'reaffirming (the Bienal's) fidelity to the concept of plurality' (Blaquier) and examining the way in which the explosive growth of cities in the countries of the world's south impacts in myriad ways on the daily lives of their inhabitants.
As one visiting museum director commented, this Bienal has been tightly curated. Unlike many such events, where the choice of work seems entirely arbitrary and the theme simply a title on the front of the catalogue, the work selected here has a close relationship to the central theme of urban culture. Therein lies both its strength and its weakness. Walking the labyrinth of spaces which make up the Fortaleza de la Cabana, the viewer does reach a point where one more photograph of a vegetable market in yet another city is one too many.
But there are many highlights. Outside the Fortaleza, Cuban artist Duvier del Dago has rigged two intersecting grids of strings between two sets of boards, and used these to make three dimensional 'drawings' in string of the classic symbols of suburbia - a house and a car. His compatriot Reynerio Tamayo does a riff on the classic Cuban theme of leaving the island - an outsized black metal shark's fin with yellow and black emergency markings cruises the cobbled walkways outside the exhibition spaces.
Spanish artist Jordi Colomer's work is hilarious. Playing with the idea of the unyielding nature of a city skyline, Colomer makes small models of buildings, mounts them on platforms supported by a stick, then rushes around at the right distance from the building so his model looks as if it is of a similar scale to the original. His video documentation makes it look as if a building has suddenly come to life and has decided to leave its position in the urban landscape.
Douts, Mohamadou N'doye from Senegal, offers a modest but poignant animation in which simple materials are used to tell the story of a small shanty town in his home country, complete with people. animals, taxis et al. At the end of the story, the little town is swallowed up by sand, and the sudden obliteration of the lively community is the occasion for a moment of real regret.
Employing the services of the women who braid hair in African styles, Meschec Gaba of Benin commissioned them to make models of famous buildings, like the Guggenheim Museum in New York. This engaging concept would have worked better if the original architectural features of the building had been more closely observed - although perhaps that is asking too much, and the imperfect results are part of the piece.
Michele Magema, of Cameroun, mediates on gender politics in a video in which in two panels, her feet, in white high heels but with shackled ankles pace slowly and interminably along a street, pausing only to allow her to pick up puffs of cotton wool and place them in a bag, while in the centre panel her head submissively carries a large container.
Lucy Orta, the British artist who now lives in France, is deeply concerned with the human survival at a basic level, with environmental issues, and with the way that people and groups working together can generate cooperation and support. The cleanly-designed clothing which are a key element of her wide ranging projects is fabricated from materials chosen for their specific technical properties, like the retention of heat. In Havana, Orta's body architecture jackets hang from the ceiling in a linked chain, and documentary photographs on the wall show past interventions.
A workshop run by Orta in the city with local women in which a person's mood and body language will be incorporated into variations of Orta's signature overalls design will develop into a new project for the future.
Unlike previous years, South African participation is minimal. The names of Moshekwa Langa and The Trinity Session, Stephen Hobbs and Marcus Neustetter may appear in the catalogue but lack of funding prevented their attendance. The Trinity Session had intended to paint the black and white image that appears in the catalogue, a game board of tiny pixellated drawings, on an appropriate wall in the city, but this was not to be.
The only painting from South Africa which appears on the show are the graphic images of Conrad Botes, screened and painted on to canvas, and inset with round paintings on glass, The simplicity and starkness of Botes' images link well with the graffiti artist ethic evident in a number of other contributions.
In other parts of the city, French artist duo Anne and Patrick Poirier have constructed a strikingly poetic cityscape using the faintly caramel coloured raw sugar which is one of the chief exports of the island, and Shirin Neshat is showing Zarin, an exquisitely shot film in luminous colours about an emaciated prostitute who raises her eyes from her client's fumblings to find, terrifyingly, his eyes and mouth appear stitched together.
At the Wilfredo Lam Centre, American photographer Spencer Tunick, who must hold the world record for numbers of naked bodies seen in one lifetime, shows his extraordinary city landscapes in which acres of unclothed men and women lie, raise their legs, or drape themselves over some recognisable feature of that city.
But perhaps one of the strongest installations is not part of the Bienal. In front of the American embassy, which I understand was beaming anti Cuban messages on LED screens from the top floor, a grid of flags on poles several storeys high flutter unceasingly, the Cuban star in silver on a silky black ground, screening off completely whatever unwanted messages might be sent out.
Opened: March 27
Closes: April 27, 2006
