PLATFORM: A Lab for the Present? Post-Mortem Considerations of the 18th Architectural Biennale in Venice

As the 2023 iteration of La Biennale di Venezia closed its doors in November, and with some distance from the glitzy inaugural days, the limelight, the flood of Instagram stories, and the free-flowing Spritz, it could be a good time to engage in some reflections. About the venue and its goals; and about architecture and its role in today’s context.

The first impression that strikes us is not a novel one; it is a sensation that has been growing over time and is not exclusive to this particular edition. There is a palpable sense that the format of the world's most celebrated architectural gathering is evolving into something akin to a summer music festival (Figure 1). Think of it as Lollapalooza or Glastonbury for those of my generation, and perhaps a Coachella for the younger ones. It has become a large event with a sprawling program that aims to cater to every taste and expectation. The size of the venue is not far from this kind of global event: 285,000 visitors attended this edition (the second most attended in Architectural Biennale history) and 64 nations participated.

Figure 1. Canal Grande, Venice (Photo: Marco Sosa, 2023)

On the one hand, it is heartening to see that the architectural scene is in good health to attract so many spectators. On the other hand, much like the music festivals mentioned, La Biennale has evolved into an event where the primary objective is not necessarily exploration, experimentation, or the debut of new or different concepts. Instead, it has become a platform to offer a snapshot of what the architectural world has to offer today. It is a reflection of the current state of architectural thought, trends, and practices. In essence, the Biennale seems to have transitioned from a harbinger of the future at the turn of the century (e.g. Hollein’s Sensing the Future, Sudjiç’s Next, K.W. Foster’s Metamorph), into a showcase of contemporary architecture.

Two years ago the commissioner Roberto Ciccutto appointed the architect/writer Lesley Lokko, whose previous works at the African Futures Institute in Accra, Ghana and the Graduate School of Architecture at the University of Johannesburg, South Africa promised a new curatorial direction. Following current global trends, the 18th International Architecture Exhibition in Venice suggested that the future of architecture is uninterested in starchitects, has a less Western-centric angle, greater environmental awareness, and more gender and racial equity. It also aimed to showcase unheard voices, less-known stories, and indigenous geographies.

For the 2023 Biennale, Lokko envisioned "The Laboratory of the Future," focusing on Africa, the African Diaspora, and non-West narratives, that aim to bridge a 'story' (a history?) of architecture which, in her words, has been so far “incomplete. Not wrong, but incomplete”.

“Is architecture, as we know it, incapable of addressing social injustice and cogent aspects of urban life in the contemporary world? Or is it possible that clients do not expect designers to engage with these concerns?”

Walking through the Corderie dell’Arsenale, one can appreciate the consistency of Lokko’s project in the works of 89 invited participants (“practitioners” in her language) engaging in “being an agent of change”. Half of them have geographical or cultural ties with Africa. Half of them are women. Many of them are young, working individually or in small teams.

Lokko’s earthy-colored exhibition rooms delivered the less-known stories promised in the curatorial statement. Among the many projects, Studio Looty proposed Mnemonic (Sa ‘EY’ AMA: To Commemorate) an attempt to a digital repatriation of stolen art. Through the utilization of remote sensing (LiDAR) and non-fungible tokens (NFTs), this installation sought to provide access to Africa's ancestral cultural production, predominantly preserved abroad in the Global North, for African students, creatives, and artists. Time and Chance by Ghanian artist Serge Attukwei Clottey was an outdoor sculpture and a reflection in global material culture. A large floating installation suspended between the Gaggiandre, stitched yellow plastic pieces from gallon containers, which were imported during the Kufour-era and later discarded (Figure 2). Studio DAAR delved into the examination of the fascist colonial architecture by replicating and deconstructing the façade of the main building in the rural settlement of Borgo Rizza. Erected in 1940s by the regime to modernize Sicily, this project drew parallels with coeval plans for new towns in Libya and Somalia. Bengali architect Arinjoy Sen contributed to the exhibit with a series of tapestries embroidered by local artisans. These artworks employed traditional visual language to depict various potential uses for the Khudi Bari, a modular housing structure designed by Aga Khan Award winner Marina Tabassum for refugee camps or as a response to floods. The installation by Killing Architects investigated with photos and videos the scale of the network of internment camps built in Xingjian, by the Chinese government.

The exhibition displayed a variety of projects that differ significantly in location and purpose, and utilized various visual languages, including video projections and short films. Throughout, the narratives interwove architecture, environmental and urban challenges.

Figure 2. Serge Attukwei Clottey, Time and Chances, Gaggiandre dell’Arsenale, Venice (Photo: Lina Ahmed, 2023)

In the same rooms, one could hear echoes of previous editions, such as the condemnation of urban injustice, the right to the city, the reaffirmation of architecture as a collective knowledge and practice, away from state and corporate interests, as in Aravena's 2016 Reporting from the Front and Sarkis's 2021 How Will We Live Together? This continuity between different curators demonstrates that some critical aspects of Lokko's vision are not geographically specific, but, at different scales, they are part of the global urban condition.

Figure 3. Ghost Stories. Carrier Bag Theory of Architecture, Türkiye (Photo: Roberto Fabbri, 2023)

Decolonization and decarbonization were the key words for the exhibit. Considering the latter, it is difficult not to reflect on the impact of an event that attracts an extra 300.000 people during the summer to one of the world’s largest tourist centers – also a delicate heritage environment - while discussing sustainability. As for the former, it is regrettably clear that very few countries have the financial means to participate in an inherently expensive event. In the end, it was a mix of financial possibilities and political soft-power strategies that determines which country could participate. Consequently, much of the Global South was left unrepresented. If we exclude the curator's selection, Africa and Central America had very few national pavilions. In Asia, India, Pakistan, and Indonesia—three of the most populated countries in the world—were represented but not actively part of the debate.

Figure 4. Unbuilt Together, Republic of Uzbekistan. Photo: Roberto Fabbri, 2023

The national pavilions, outside of the curator's domain, encompassed a wide array of themes and ideas. Leaving the Corderie, one was exposed to a kaleidoscope of approaches: Argentina unveiled a photographic exhibition centered on water resources; Turkey (Figure 3) and Uzbekistan (Figure 4) reflected on diverse interpretations of heritage; China conducted an insightful analysis of the intricate interplay between rural and urban environments; Bahrain and the UAE focused on arid landscapes; Germany declined to build a conventional display and gathered materials from the previous edition to be reused in a future productive infrastructure; Mexico showcased a rural basketball court as a space of resistance for indigenous cultures (Figure 5); Latvia staged a supermarket, sharply underscoring the commodification of culture and architecture (Figure 6); Canada’s was a campaign headquarters for the pressing issue of housing shortage (Figure 7). As we know, the national pavilions remain independent of the curator's overarching argument, even though there is an implied invitation to align. The inclusion of diverse proposals brought variety to the curator’s vision; however, they could also be seen to dilute the message instead of strengthening it.

Figure 6. Utopian infrastructure: the Campesinos Basketball Court, México (Photo: Roberto Fabbri, 2023)

Figure 3. T/C LATVIJA (TCL), Latvia Photo: Roberto Fabbri,2023

Lastly, the marginalization of starchitects and the reduced focus on built projects had some significant consequences. As exposed by architectural critic Prestinenza Puglisi, the entire exhibition flirted more with sociology, geography, ecologies, activism, and art installation then architectural design and contemporary practice. While the exhibition was full of reflections and academic speculations, tangible design examples were relatively scarce.

In the aftermath of the Biennale's opening, Patrik Schumacher, a principal at Zaha Hadid Architects, provocatively suggested on social media that the label 'architecture' be removed from the Biennale's billboards. "What we are witnessing here is the discursive self-annihilation of the discipline". He questioned whether his conception of architecture as a discipline was too narrow in expecting to see architectural design at an architectural biennale: “Whatever social, political or moral issues we want to address, the way to show their relevance to architecture is via projects that claim to respond to these issues."

I must admit that I found myself sharing a similar sentiment during my three-hour train journey back home from Venice. In the subsequent days, I discussed my perspectives with colleagues and friends both in academia and the industry, observing a shared and consistent opinion on the event. Beyond a doubt, the narrative presented at La Biennale was intellectually stimulating, but a part of the architectural process was not included or remained abstract. Is architecture, as we know it, incapable of addressing social injustice and cogent aspects of urban life in the contemporary world? Or is it possible that clients do not expect designers to engage with these concerns? Construction is more and more a corporate world; are contemporary architects equipped to conjugate instances such what Lokko exposed with the market?

As expected, Schumacher's confrontational post triggered a landslide of comments. In one, Joana Sá Lima, partner at Comte Bureau in Oslo, argues, "Although I may agree that the Venice Biennale has transformed into a vanity fair over the past years (…) there are now very few good cases to showcase. It is crucial for us to recognize that the field of architecture is going through a necessary reset." She continues, "It is an opportunity to start anew, rising from the ashes of what you [Schumacher] and your peers have turned architecture into: a mere formalist exercise devoid of substance … and servitude to capitalism." (Fig.7)

Regrettably, this debate, like many others, unfolded on social media rather than at the Biennale itself, despite ample opportunities for discussion during its six-month run. Nevertheless, it underscores the critical role that the Biennale continues to play. Despite the shift towards a festival-like atmosphere, the scarcity of architectural examples, and the excess of academicism, La Biennale is a critical juncture for the architectural world to contemplate its identity, purpose, and the delicate balance between being a reflection of the now and perhaps a catalyst for the future.