Manifesto Vol.1
1. The Question Popped by the Venice Biennale
This project began after my visit to the 60th Venice Biennale earlier this year. It was my third time attending, and as always, I was eager to engage with the agendas and visions for the future of art presented by curators and participating artists. However, this time, I left with an unsettling feeling, prompting me to reflect on the reasons upon my return to Oslo.
The theme of this year’s Biennale, “Foreigners Everywhere,” tackled multiculturalism and migration, featuring artists of diverse nationalities and racial backgrounds. While viewing the exhibitions, I felt that the invited artists functioned more as narrative devices serving the exhibition rather than as autonomous contributors. Outside of the national pavilions, I noticed that artists of color were still often framed as representatives of specific nations or solely defined by their identities.
Critics from Kunstkritikk offered the following perspective on this year's Venice Biennale:
« Overall, it is truly gratifying and significant that so many artists with Indigenous backgrounds are highlighted at this year’s biennale. However, we have the inescapable fact that through their participation, these artists also place the various nations they represent in a better light than they deserve. Is this a case of artistic takeovers of national pavilions? Or is it rather a case of national virtue- washing and rebranding with Indigenous art? The answer is probably both. ».
“Free Us From the Nation States” By Mariann Enge
« Do you fancy yourself an aesthete? Do you love finely tuned museum shows? Do you fetishise Indigenous art? Then the 60th Venice Biennale might be for you!
The fact that the biennial features significant works that dream about the conquest of new territory as the solution to a political problem, while simultaneously being promoted as the most decolonial edition ever with a total of 331 artists – most of whom come from the Global South and are of Indigenous descent – can be understood as reflecting current global political tensions. But following a closer look, these positions are revealed to be wedded to one another in a logical way. That is, if we adhere to the notion of predestination, the metaphysical belief that some people are more chosen than others depending on who they are.
In Pedrosa’s main exhibition (a review of the pavilions will follow later on), the idea of being chosen is expressed through one of four categories: the foreigner, the Indigenous, the outsider artist, and, lastly, the queer artist. Pedrosa’s curatorial approach is, in other words, representational through and through. In his exhibition, artists who are queer make art about being queer, and those who are Indigenous make art about being Indigenous. Anything else is difficult to imagine, since the artists seem to have been selected precisely in order to represent who they are said to be.
Moreover, according to Pedrosa, everyone is a foreigner at some point or another. We are all “foreigners everywhere.” Yet, everyone is not on display at the biennale, which must mean that those who are being shown are a better or more refined kind of foreigner than others. What is problematic about this idea is the underlying assumption that these ‘chosen ones’ are not selected by a worldly power but rather by history itself. It is as if the position of being foreign, which Pedrosa so fervently covets, would be fated by destiny rather than the result of actual social, economic and political conditions. Thus, we can visit an show that idealises the position of being a foreigner without having to contaminate ourselves with the reality of current refugee crises and their causes. Which is, of course, convenient.». «Phantom Pains» by Frans Josef Petersson 2024
I was born and raised in South Korea and moved to Norway, my first experience of living abroad. Coming from a country that is highly closed to immigration, my upbringing was surrounded solely by Koreans. My move to Norway was driven by curiosity about the unique atmosphere of Nordic cinema rather than any specific expectations.
Due to this background, I find it awkward and uncomfortable to label myself as a “minority” or “person of color.” The term “person of color” highlights certain hues while implicitly asking what the “default” color is. For whom are these categories defined, and to what end?
2. Critique of the Biennale and the Art World
I often sense that artists of color are not treated equitably in art institutions, museums, or galleries. In contemporary art, artists of color are frequently consumed as parts of a narrative rather than evaluated as independent creators. Art institutions often invite artists of color to signal their commitment to political correctness through “exotic” or “multicultural” content. This approach risks reducing these artists to narrative tools or “spokespeople” rather than recognizing their artistry.
When artists of color critique racism or colonialism, the response from white critics and the art world is often either a barrage of empty praise or complete silence. This silence, likely stemming from a fear of appearing critical of such works, can paradoxically be seen as a form of racism.
While I acknowledge the importance of my identity as an Asian woman, I do not believe it defines me entirely. My nationality and race are not choices but rather arbitrary factors, much like a lottery number. Yet, some curators excessively market artists of color through identity-centric narratives. This approach essentializes the “category” of being a person of color, reducing the artistic diversity of individuals into a monolithic identity.
3. The Radicalism and Contradictions of the Art World
The art world prides itself on being progressive and radical. However, its over-obsession—or even OCD—with political correctness ironically contributes to the othering of artists of color. Implicitly, certain narratives are predetermined for artists of color, and there exists an invisible structural pressure to remain within these boundaries.
Nicolas Bourriaud, in Relational Aesthetics, emphasized genuine dialogue and understanding between art and its audience. “. «The exhibition is the special place where such momentary groupings may occur, governed as they are by differing principles. And depending on the degree ot participation required of the onlooker by the artist, along with the nature ofthe works and the models of sociability proposed and represented, an exhibition will give rise to a specific "arena of exchange". And this "arena of exchange", must be judged on the basis of aesthetic criteria, in other words, by analysing the coherence of its form. and then the symbolic value of the "world" it suggests to us, and of the image of human relations reflected by it. Within this social interstice, the artist must assume the symbolic models he shows. All representation (though contemporary art models more than it represents, and fits into the social fabric more than it draws inspiration therefrom) refers to values that can be transposed into society. As a human activity based on commerce, art is at once the object and the subject of an ethic. And this all the more so because, unlike other activities, its sole function is to be exposed to this commerce. Art is a state of encounter.» 18p
Today, some institutional approaches hinder such interactions, reducing audiences to passive observers.
For instance, works featuring traditional attire or symbols of an artist’s birthplace are often highlighted under the label of “exoticism.” In such cases, artists may feel compelled to stay within these confines. Simultaneously, I critique the choices of some artists of color who voluntarily self-objectify. The essence of being an artist lies in transcending national or racial identities, fostering originality, and building a unique artistic universe.
With this critique in mind, I undertook two projects.
4. Mosaic and Postcard Works
Mosaic Work
Mosaic is an ancient art form where small fragments are assembled to create images or patterns, often used to adorn walls, floors, and ceilings, typically for religious or commemorative purposes. I was intrigued by adapting this traditional technique for contemporary art. From afar, mosaics appear unified, but up close, the individuality of each fragment becomes evident.
In this project, I saw parallels between mosaics and how artists of color are presented at the Biennale. While each artist contributes to the larger image, their individuality often becomes diluted, reduced to a homogenized narrative. The colored glass pieces I used for this mosaic were produced in Venice, so I decided that this work should return to Venice.
Postcard Work
I made two postcards: one featuring an image of the mosaic and another parodying the Guerrilla Girls’ iconic question, “Do Women Have to Be Naked to Get into the Met. Museum?” My version asks, “Do artists of color have to represent their country to get into the museum?” This critique underscores the reality that artists of color are too often defined by their nationality and ethnicity on international platforms.
5. Back to the Venice Biennale
On the day before the Biennale ended, I returned to Venice to discreetly place my mosaic and postcards in the exhibition spaces and souvenir shops. By leveraging the interventionist, critical, and socially engaged qualities of public art, I aimed to deliver my message about the Biennale.
I hoped visitors would engage with the work, transitioning from passive observers to active participants. By interacting with the mosaic and postcards in these unexpected contexts, I sought to create new dialogues and challenge the audience to rethink the Biennale’s themes and formats.
I left quickly after placing the works, so they might have been bought, discarded by staff, or simply noticed by a few visitors. Regardless, the transient nature of public art and its interplay with memory ensures that the few who saw the work could carry its message forward in their conversations and reflections.
6. “Oh, There Is a Typical Asian Tourist Over There”
The day after the Biennale ended, I booked a photoshoot through Airbnb. The photographer, who primarily catered to couples and families, captured Instagram-style photos at Venice’s famous tourist spots.
I posed with my banner artwork at iconic Venetian landmarks. While tourist photos typically symbolize romance and joy, my images—with a politically charged banner—subverted these expectations. The photos functioned not only as personal records but also as public messages, raising questions for viewers.
By performing as a stereotypical Asian tourist carrying a banner with provocative text, I softened the perceived threat of the message. This quiet yet powerful form of resistance expanded the scope of public art by exploring how it could operate within everyday contexts.
7. Conclusion
What fascinates me about public art is its capacity to foster social dialogue and drive change through interaction with its audience. Artists of color should not be confined to identity or ethnicity but should be recognized for their multifaceted potentials.
Just as the Guerrilla Girls highlighted sexism in the art world, I aim to extend this critique to issues of race and ethnicity, exposing the intersectional inequities in contemporary art. As Audre Lorde stated in Sister Outsider: “. “As women, we need to examine the ways in which our world can be truly different. I am speaking here of the necessity for reassessing the quality of all the aspects of our lives and of our work, and of how we move toward and through them. I find the erotic such a kernel within myself. When released from its intense and constrained pellet, it flows through and colors my life with a kind of energy that heightens and sensitizes and strengthens all my experience.” 45p
“We have been raised to fear the yes within ourselves, our deepest cravings. But, once recognized, those which do not enhance our future lose their power and can be altered. The fear of our desires keeps them suspect and indiscriminately powerful, for to suppress any truth is to give it strength beyond endurance. The fear that we cannot grow beyond whatever distortions we may find within ourselves keeps us docile and loyal and obedient, externally defined, and leads us to accept many facets of our oppression as women.
When we live outside ourselves, and by that I mean on external directives only rather than from our internal knowledge and needs, when we live away from those erotic guides from within ourselves, then our lives are limited by external and alien forms, and we conform to the needs of a structure that is not based on human need, let alone an individual’s. But when we begin to live from within outward, in touch with the power of the erotic within our- selves, and allowing that power to inform and illuminate our actions upon the world around us, then we begin to be responsible to our- selves in the deepest sense. For as we begin to recognize our deepest feelings, we begin to give up, of necessity, being satisfied with suffering and self-negation, and with the numbness which so often seems like their only alternative in our society. Our acts against oppression become integral with self, motivated and empowered from within.
In touch with the erotic, I become less willing to accept powerlessness, or those other supplied states of being which are not native to me, such as resignation, despair, self-effacement, depression, self- denial. 47p” ”.
Critics’ avoidance of engaging with works by artists of color—often out of fear of appearing insensitive— deprives these artists of the opportunity for growth. As Lorde emphasized, silence erases the voices of the oppressed and perpetuates existing power structures.
Artists of color are often positioned as “outsiders” rather than integrated into mainstream discourse. We must reject this mode of consumption and affirm our agency as creators. My goal is to evolve this project into a manifesto-style magazine, creating a space where artists of color can express their artistic voices without being reduced to singular identities.
List of References:
-Lorde, Audre (1984). ‘Sister Outsider’. London: Penguin.
-Bourriaud, Nicholas. (1998). ‘Relational Aesthetics’. France: Les Presse Du Reel,Franc - 60th Venice Biennale. ‘Foreigners everywhere’. Venice.
-Frans Josef Petersson. "Phantom Pains", Kunstkritikk (Spring 2024) https://kunstkritikk.com/phantom-pains/”
-Mariann Enge. Free Us From the Nation States, Kunstkritikk (Spring 2024) https://kunstkritikk.com/fee-usFromthenationstates/