Italian Pavilion, reproducing at a 1:1 scale an ordinary textile pavilion from one of the many companies that used to exist but no longer do. A total installation that answers the question of sustainability, posted by pollution, by the pandemic, by war and all artists were instructed to take it into account, as a theme to be explored and which many have explored diligently, as in the case of Tosatti, Gian Maria Tosatti, for completeness. With others, with others...absolutely not, alone, with a repetitive and monotonous succession of workstations, without people, in the silence that marks the end of working hours… collective redundancy pay, mass dismissal. There could have been something else in our pavilion, but there isn't, in a total depression that admits nothing else. Now I ask myself the question: do you like it…!? I reply that pleasure and displeasure can be (and are) subjective, therefore they are not transitive.
The curator did well to create an all-encompassing, totalitarian exhibition. And so far, no issue. Where I absolutely disagree is on theme what has been chosen, a theme too grand and unengaging for artistic creativity, after a glorious (and I say this with reverence) recap of great artists such as Beuys, Christo, the Kabakovs, Gilardi, Nitsch, Hirst; there is something else… of course there is, but it is not the rearguard of the seen, the repeated. I find myself elsewhere and I do not agree with the epigraph of this biennale, nor with Tosatti's response which seems smug to me, when he says we must yield our primacy and we must revolutionise ourselves, being careful where we tread, to avoid crushing even a cockroach. Is this indicative language, or metaphorical, it is unclear and perhaps it does not want to be. However, on this occasion, the Italian pavilion, which has never shone, now leaves much to be desired.
KLESSIDRA | EDITED BY FRANCESCO GALLO MAZZEO
Italiano 
English (UK)