First signs of my research here in Singapore. Australian webmagazine ArtsHub has just published my article on the National Gallery of Singapore, which will open to public on the 24th of November.
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I’m back home after five days in Venice for the 56th Biennale di Venezia, reporting the event for ArtsHub and realizing interviews for Art a Part of Cult(ure). I had a great time, meet with extraordinary people and lost myself in the maze of narrow streets. Venice is so beautiful it cannot be. Between the pavilions, the “All the World’s Futures” show and the collateral exhibitions, the Biennale was overwhelming. So much great work around you couldn’t believe! I didn’t nearly get to see everything I wanted to see. Just like everyone, at the end of this tour de force I had my feet completely broken and I laid sick in bed for a couple of days. But even then, the spirit was high and I now I feel incredibly energized, happy and ready to take on the world! While you’ll see my articles about the Biennale coming out in the next few days (my personal selection for ArtsHub, the Indonesian pavilion on the Manifesto and the Australians in Venice are already out) here’s the visual counterpoint.
My review of the Art Paris Art Fair (in Italian) has just been published on the web magazine Art a Part of Culture with the title “South East Asia in Paris. If we are not going to Singapore, Singapore is coming to us”. In the article I go into the role of Singapore as a hub for South East Asia, as discussed in an interesting talk at the fair, and the other related events going on in France at the moment.
Here’s the link to the article
If you are new to that and want to start learning about contemporary art in South East Asia, I have a book (in Italian) who gives an introduction about Indonesian contemporary art. Find more about it here.
I have just came back from two weeks in Paris. It has been an incredible time. I was there for the Art Paris Art Fair and the exhibition Secret Archipelago at the Palais De Tokyo – yet again on a reporting mission for Art a Part of Cult(ure), the Italian magazine I write for. My boss at Art a Part is the M to my Bond, the Charlie to my Angels, the Xavier to my X-Men, well, you get my drift! In Paris I’ve met with a number of interesting people and had chats with artists I wanted to talk to from a long time, including Eddie Hara and Richard Streitmatter-Tran.
The first week has been a whirlwind of interviews. I already knew what it means to do three interviews in a day – I did it before, and it was crazy! But five interviews in a day? That’s don’t-try-this-at-home insane! Luckily enough, I generally feel energized by working under pressure. Plus, all the artists and gallerists I talked with have been super nice. I can’t wait to share their interviews with you! In this situation it also helped to have the most amazing sidekick a journalist can ever had, a gorgeous Sorrentinian gal called Marta, who also hosted me in Paris. We jumped from metro to metro chatting endlessly about everything from Catilina (ancient republican Rome anyone?) to haircuts, all that while chewing a pan au chocolat (aux amandes, aux pistaches…) and rushing to the next interview.
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Some time ago a friend of mine – Bietolone we will call him – told me that he was waiting at the clinic of venereal diseases in London (a banal candida, he quickly added). In the waiting room a tall slim bombshell from Russia struck up a conversation. She said she was sick of London and she wanted to move elsewhere. Like, in that very moment. She explained she was a sculptor, and England was no place to live for an artist anymore. When he heard that Bietolone gulped. He notoriously had a soft spot for artists. He would have already asked her out if only they wouldn’t have met at the clinic of venereal diseases.
She proclaimed that the future for the arts was in Asia, and she had already picked a city to live: Singapore. She threw her blonde hair behind her shoulders and asked Bietolone in a heavily accented English: “Do you want to come with me?”
“Let me think about it” he replied seriously.
She scribbled her number on a piece of paper, gave it to him and disappeared in the stairwell before even getting her diagnosis.
