Albania Pavilion: Geopathies
Artists: Anila Rubiku, Orion Shima, Gentian Shkurti, Eltjon Valle, Driant Zeneli
Curator: Riccardo Caldura
Venue: Spazio Rolak, Giudecca 211/b
Images of Driant Zeneli’s work, courtesy of Driant Zeneli and Prometeogallery di Ida Pisani:
Some say the moon is easy to touch…- video - 05’00” 2011
This is a Castle! 2010
The Dream of Icarus was to make a Cloud - video - 4’05” 2009
Kamila Kocialkowska interviews Driant Zeneli
“I am interested in the road that leads to utopia, when it is still imbued with dreams” says Driant Zeneli, the Albanian representative of this year’s Venice Biennale. “Someone once said that utopia is like the horizon, you take one step towards it and it moves ten steps away, you take twenty steps and it moves twenty steps away. As you walk, you never reach it.”
It’s a bold statement for the artist, considering that, by and large, utopia is a woefully outdated concept within the contemporary art world. Its generally perceived to be suggestive of a naïve idealism, a quixotic hopefulness, it’s seen as misplaced notion, an irregular piece in the jig saw of the twenty-first century world view.
But for Zeneli, it is precisely the Romantic inflection and replete historical significance of Utopia which offers us an engaging and unique new lens through which to view the changing nature of national identity.
The diversity of Albania’s historical and political past is continually evoked in his performance-based work. As for many Eastern European artists, one of his key focuses is dealing with the aftermath of communism in the country. Much of his work stems from the foundational paradox that the bleak reality of the Soviet state was built upon a fairytale of Utopia.
“About a year ago, my dream was to touch the moon” says the artist, “a dream that had haunted me. Over the past eighteen years, the moon had never been so close to the earth, so my desire became a necessity. On 20 March 2011, finally, I used a bungee jump, in the middle of the night to touch the reflection of the moon in a lake. This is the work I am exhibiting for the 54th Biennale”.
Kamila Kocialkowska: Your work This is a Castle (2010) documents some of the post-communist architecture of Albania. How far do you feel architecture can represent the identity of a nation?
Driant Zeneli: I don’t believe that architecture only belongs to those who realized it, but also to the people who actually live in it, as well as people who perceive it from the outside.
The history of Albanian architecture is pretty interesting. During the Communist regime between 1950-1990, the dictator Enver Hoxha built approximately five hundred thousand bunkers throughout the country, and in recent times, some free-thinkers like Ludwig II of Bavaria have been building castles instead.
Albania has gone through some fairly extreme economic developments in recent decades, both covering the Communist era of fast food and low costs, and then seemingly embarking upon a paradoxical “return” to the middle Ages. The castles built in the last decade in Albania are mostly restaurants or public places intended for fun and for consumption.
I was deeply intrigued by this peculiar and unusual take on the built environment, so I proposed a trip across Albania as tourists and archaeologist along with gallery owner Ida Pisani and curator Denis Isaia. Ida Pisani photographed me in front of various castles, whilst Denis Isaia wrote down everything that happened on the trip. One of his diary entries reads; “This is a Castle tells the story of the social, commercial, and architectural changes that are sweeping through the country after the fall of the Communism, and of the imbalances that are moving from the west towards the south and east, only to return in a sinister new form”.
KK: There is a palpable element of ‘heroism’ in your work. This particularly comes across in work such as your 2007 Mur-Art installation and the references to Icarus in your recent work. What’s your stance on the modern artist as hero?
DR: I certainly think that contemporary heroes could be compared to Icarus – after all, he was someone who tried to challenge the impossible. He relates to Samuel Beckett’s concept of an artist; someone who means to look for a failure which no one else dares.
Still, in common perception, the stereotype of the hero has been handed down by contemporary American culture. I explored this in my work Born in U.S. and A in 2007. President George W. Bush was then making a trip to Europe and would be visiting Albania, and you could sense a real enthusiasm in the people. The work I made in response to this was a photomontage made by taking a photo of Diane Arbus, American Boy. I installed this image on the wall of a building in Tirana during Bush’s visit.
KK: There is a poetic lyricism to your works such as The Dream of Icarus (2009), in which you succeed in creating a cloud. Is imbuing your work this is sort of neo-Romanticism important to you?
DR: From my point of view, being Romantic means having a pinch of folly, being able to ‘move’ a view, not only through the artist’s gesture and through image, but also through imagination. Without these elements in art and life, we would not have even been able to realize this interview. For me Romanticism is primarily a dream – its pure, free escapism, but its also an illusion – like a lover who enchants or disenchants himself with its own imagination.
KK: You were born and brought up in Albania, but live in Italy. This put you in a uniquely informed position to fill the Albanian pavilion in Venice. How does your relation to both counties affect the work which you will be exhibiting here?
DR: I don’t think that this fact influences my work directly, especially the new work realized for the Venice Biennale, Some say the moon is easy to touch …. However, I do certainly often feel that I live on a bridge, and this gives me some instability. However, at the same time, it gives me a chance to look from different points of view.
But moving, nowadays, is common to men. I explored this notion in my 2008 video This will be my space!, which was more directly linked to concepts of mobility, travel and location. A month before leaving a house where I lived for a year (in Italy), the owner decided to rent it to other people. So with two hidden cameras I documented the passage of people interested in renting the house.
The video reflects on the concept of living space that for many of us now has become like a sliding scale in which we all pass and no one stops.
Albania Pavilion: Geopathies
Artists: Anila Rubiku, Orion Shima, Gentian Shkurti, Eltjon Valle, Driant Zeneli
Curator: Riccardo Caldura
Venue: Spazio Rolak, Giudecca 211/b
Images of Driant Zeneli’s work, courtesy of Driant Zeneli and Prometeogallery di Ida Pisani:
Some say the moon is easy to touch…- video - 05’00” 2011
This is a Castle! 2010
The Dream of Icarus was to make a Cloud - video - 4’05” 2009
Kamila Kocialkowska interviews Driant Zeneli
“I am interested in the road that leads to utopia, when it is still imbued with dreams” says Driant Zeneli, the Albanian representative of this year’s Venice Biennale. “Someone once said that utopia is like the horizon, you take one step towards it and it moves ten steps away, you take twenty steps and it moves twenty steps away. As you walk, you never reach it.”
It’s a bold statement for the artist, considering that, by and large, utopia is a woefully outdated concept within the contemporary art world. Its generally perceived to be suggestive of a naïve idealism, a quixotic hopefulness, it’s seen as misplaced notion, an irregular piece in the jig saw of the twenty-first century world view.
But for Zeneli, it is precisely the Romantic inflection and replete historical significance of Utopia which offers us an engaging and unique new lens through which to view the changing nature of national identity.
The diversity of Albania’s historical and political past is continually evoked in his performance-based work. As for many Eastern European artists, one of his key focuses is dealing with the aftermath of communism in the country. Much of his work stems from the foundational paradox that the bleak reality of the Soviet state was built upon a fairytale of Utopia.
“About a year ago, my dream was to touch the moon” says the artist, “a dream that had haunted me. Over the past eighteen years, the moon had never been so close to the earth, so my desire became a necessity. On 20 March 2011, finally, I used a bungee jump, in the middle of the night to touch the reflection of the moon in a lake. This is the work I am exhibiting for the 54th Biennale”.
Kamila Kocialkowska: Your work This is a Castle (2010) documents some of the post-communist architecture of Albania. How far do you feel architecture can represent the identity of a nation?
Driant Zeneli: I don’t believe that architecture only belongs to those who realized it, but also to the people who actually live in it, as well as people who perceive it from the outside.
The history of Albanian architecture is pretty interesting. During the Communist regime between 1950-1990, the dictator Enver Hoxha built approximately five hundred thousand bunkers throughout the country, and in recent times, some free-thinkers like Ludwig II of Bavaria have been building castles instead.
Albania has gone through some fairly extreme economic developments in recent decades, both covering the Communist era of fast food and low costs, and then seemingly embarking upon a paradoxical “return” to the middle Ages. The castles built in the last decade in Albania are mostly restaurants or public places intended for fun and for consumption.
I was deeply intrigued by this peculiar and unusual take on the built environment, so I proposed a trip across Albania as tourists and archaeologist along with gallery owner Ida Pisani and curator Denis Isaia. Ida Pisani photographed me in front of various castles, whilst Denis Isaia wrote down everything that happened on the trip. One of his diary entries reads; “This is a Castle tells the story of the social, commercial, and architectural changes that are sweeping through the country after the fall of the Communism, and of the imbalances that are moving from the west towards the south and east, only to return in a sinister new form”.
KK: There is a palpable element of ‘heroism’ in your work. This particularly comes across in work such as your 2007 Mur-Art installation and the references to Icarus in your recent work. What’s your stance on the modern artist as hero?
DR: I certainly think that contemporary heroes could be compared to Icarus – after all, he was someone who tried to challenge the impossible. He relates to Samuel Beckett’s concept of an artist; someone who means to look for a failure which no one else dares.
Still, in common perception, the stereotype of the hero has been handed down by contemporary American culture. I explored this in my work Born in U.S. and A in 2007. President George W. Bush was then making a trip to Europe and would be visiting Albania, and you could sense a real enthusiasm in the people. The work I made in response to this was a photomontage made by taking a photo of Diane Arbus, American Boy. I installed this image on the wall of a building in Tirana during Bush’s visit.
KK: There is a poetic lyricism to your works such as The Dream of Icarus (2009), in which you succeed in creating a cloud. Is imbuing your work this is sort of neo-Romanticism important to you?
DR: From my point of view, being Romantic means having a pinch of folly, being able to ‘move’ a view, not only through the artist’s gesture and through image, but also through imagination. Without these elements in art and life, we would not have even been able to realize this interview. For me Romanticism is primarily a dream – its pure, free escapism, but its also an illusion – like a lover who enchants or disenchants himself with its own imagination.
KK: You were born and brought up in Albania, but live in Italy. This put you in a uniquely informed position to fill the Albanian pavilion in Venice. How does your relation to both counties affect the work which you will be exhibiting here?
DR: I don’t think that this fact influences my work directly, especially the new work realized for the Venice Biennale, Some say the moon is easy to touch …. However, I do certainly often feel that I live on a bridge, and this gives me some instability. However, at the same time, it gives me a chance to look from different points of view.
But moving, nowadays, is common to men. I explored this notion in my 2008 video This will be my space!, which was more directly linked to concepts of mobility, travel and location. A month before leaving a house where I lived for a year (in Italy), the owner decided to rent it to other people. So with two hidden cameras I documented the passage of people interested in renting the house.
The video reflects on the concept of living space that for many of us now has become like a sliding scale in which we all pass and no one stops.
Posted 1 year ago
