From: Randian

By Girolamo Marri

Translated by Ling

签到威尼斯

 

坐在长椅上

大胡子导演：别说我迷信阴谋论了！证据明摆着，就是因为五个新藏家中有四个都来自安哥拉，他们施加的压力才导致安哥拉馆捧得金狮。

 

在一艘拥挤的汽艇上

从橄榄油转做拍卖行的人：我刚去了安哥拉馆。我不是很确定。我觉得我没明白；它看上去像是对费里克斯.冈萨雷斯-托雷斯（Felix Gonzales-Torres）的致敬，然后我发现所有人都情不自禁地去偷那些廉价的印刷宣传页，没人注意自己周围那些美妙绝伦的宫殿壁画。作品肯定是要批判图像消费主义、资本主义与个体贫穷。肯定是这样的——不过我还是不确定我真的明白了。

 

在一艘汽艇上

Girolamo Marri: 所以你看过安哥拉馆了？我猜你喜欢它，因为大部分人说它糟透了。

刀子嘴艺术夫妇之妇：其实，就它这类型而言，真的不错。

Girolamo Marri: 什么类型？

刀子嘴艺术夫妇之夫：从一大堆东西里挑出来摆一块儿的类型。

 

 

在餐厅巧遇正要为未婚妻点批萨的高调艺术家。

Girolamo Marri: 你怎么看土耳其馆的Ali Kazma的录像？不坏哈？

高调艺术家：不知道；拍得不错，图像很悦目，但五屏投影装置太过气了，那是90年代才用的玩意….

Girolamo Marri: （笑）我喜欢你这么具有洞察力的评价，把“90年代”作为形容词。Flamboyant Artist: 其实我只是引用了Hyperactive美术馆馆长的话。

 

在一艘驶向花园的汽艇上，沿途路过Marc Quinn制作的巨大女子头像雕塑，它被摆在一座教堂的门口

德国旅客：那是什么？

威尼斯人：我不知道。

德国旅客：它会一直杵在那儿？

威尼斯人：上帝啊，千万别。

 

颁奖那天，我在立陶宛和塞浦路斯联合馆狂饮，我猜正是因为这座馆不干不净、朋克风格着逗人喜爱，所以才获得了评委特别奖。我经人介绍认识了策展人Raimundas Malasauskas，并向这个穿着印有迷幻热带海景的华丽塑料质感连帽衫的家伙道了贺。高调艺术家指出，那个海景图案里，水中棕榈树的倒影颜色不正。

 

坐在长椅上

Girolamo Marri: 我很高兴提诺.赛格尔（Tino Sehgal）赢得了金狮。

大胡子导演：你在说什么啊？这是一个只会拉屎的艺术家创作的史上最屎的一坨。

 

香港馆中一名很有礼貌的助理：真可惜昨晚您没能来我们馆用晚餐。昨晚可棒了！他们把Rialto渔市的露天广场整个改造成了一家露天餐馆，我们吃到的都是当天捕捞的新鲜水产。不过入夜后，天有些凉，但工作人员发给我们人手一条白毯子，可以披在肩上或盖在腿上。背景音乐是艺术家李杰亲自挑选的80年代金曲；整个儿看起来像一场演出。

 

如果你喜欢Berlinde de Bruyckere，那你一定得去比利时馆，因为它真的太Berlinde de Bruyckere了。

 

在Garibaldi街上，运河走到头，我和一个红头发的策展人一起喝Spritz（一种用意大利起泡酒，加金巴利、鲜榨橙汁、鲜橙片和冰块调成的鸡尾酒，在夏天喝很解暑——译者注）

一个常驻迈阿密的古巴老艺术家：如果你们想要一起拍张照，我可以帮你们拍。其实只拍她一个人就可以了，因为你太丑了。

…我听见你们在说拍照片的事。因为我们古巴人聪明还细心，所以我们可以同时听见周围发生的所有交谈。

你真的应该去参观考古博物馆的古巴馆；真的很棒——是最棒的。

 

在Giudecca的起居室喝早茶

Girolamo Marri: 你每到一处都会评分？你给意大利馆打几分？

刀子嘴艺术家夫妇之夫：10分里边我们打2分。

Girolamo Marri: 什么？这太荒唐了！就只有这一次我觉得他们没给意大利人丢脸！这次比上一回和上上一回都好多了！

刀子嘴艺术家夫妇之妇：你说的没错，我们给上两次的打分要低得多。

 

中国馆糟透了。要是想炫耀高科技，那也得正经着来。王庆松极具感染力的图像完全被套在外面的那些不着调的怪灯箱糟蹋了；展厅右侧的投影屏幕好像挂歪了，整个空间里作品们的灯光都显得不协调。这让我回想起那句对中国不无道理的评价：只看数量，不看质量。

 

与之相比，我更喜欢卫星展“噪音”（Noise），我猜它预算不高，科技对它而言不是炫耀的工具，而是观测与批评的目标。我还喜欢它依附于隔壁普拉达基金会展览的策略。

 

虽然说了中国馆的坏话，但我还是得感谢他们请我去Danieli吃饭，很美味；海鲷素珍珠配土豆泥真是一道佳肴。

 

多动症博物馆馆长早上8点钟在Facebook上留言说“我们10点在圣马可广场集合，共同抗议土耳其正在经受的压迫吧！”

 

我立即对这一行动充满了同情，并自动按下了“关注”。然后，我满怀善意地又睡了过去。

 

汽艇检票员开始挨个查票。我和艺术家Loca被迫在目的地前好几站就得跳下船。不过刀子嘴艺术家夫妇不知为啥竟然有票，呵呵。

 

百科全书主展区太棒了。对此我不会矫情的。在那些喜爱该馆的人中间，我应该是最喜爱它的那一个。我在军械库待了差不多四个小时，之后又在花园待了五个小时。我还想今年秋天再回来。这是场真正意义上的百科全书展，你能看到很棒的当代艺术，你能触摸到那种推动个人和集体继续开拓、诠释周遭世界甚而其自身存在的动力。这是一座真正意义上的博物馆，展品之间的联结是松散的，节奏是飞快的——就像搜索引擎——直觉与逻辑齐飞。

 

我们在Lido上专程的接送巴士去老机场参加丹麦派对。地方很可人，是1930年代的建筑风格，墙上高高挂着后未来主义的画布。人们站在户外望向舞台，一群半裸的舞女们正在扭屁股。不过丹麦人实在抠门——竟然还要老子自己付钱买酒喝——妈的，我是来工作的耶，不是来玩的耶！——不过有可人儿陪我说话，音乐也让人陶醉，我开心地跳了很久的舞，沉浸在10年前的回忆里，我看见舞女们尖叫着、舞动着、朝罗马的俱乐部主顾们撒假血，我身边是个喝醉了的美人，我觉得我可以走个大运，请她和舞女陪我玩3P，不过显然没这种好事。

 

我离开了威尔士派对，你肯定猜到我喝了不少啤酒，我跟着一个漂亮的音乐家和她的朋友们，照理是往爱尔兰馆派对去寻更多的酒。天在下雨，我抱着那个女孩子的吉他，佯装绅士，但自己骂自己猪头，因为那个吉他重死了。很快我就意识到这群人根本就不会去另一个派对，于是我走人了，希望自己可以在别的派对和我的朋友们回合。但这一点也不好办；我一没地址，二手机没电（我发现手机在威尼斯很容易没电），三没头脑（喝醉着呢），四没方向感（生来如此，阿门）。我发现自己老往死胡同里走， 有一条通向运河，我撒了泡尿，但在这个没车的鬼地方，一泡尿听起来都像是片瀑布，轰隆隆的。过了好久，我才寻回酒鬼的正路，摸到了爱尔兰派对，和我的朋友们干了一杯。哎，善始善终哪！

 

法国馆比较难评。我在那儿傻乐了半小时，听了上下两段分别由两名钢琴师演绎的交响乐，场地的音效颇佳，造价也想必不菲，没个10万欧元我猜也搞不定。体验不错，但我不确定这是个让人去艺术展的理由。

 

我在瑞士馆外用起泡酒把自己喂了半饱并以此庆幸，当时我与一个瑞士姑娘久别重逢：

 

Girolamo Marri: 你觉得这个馆有什么好的？

那位久别重逢的姑娘: 建筑确实漂亮。

 

从橄榄油转做拍卖行的人: 你要去看Palazzo Fortuni的台北馆；台北很好，建筑也好。

 

Girolamo Marri: 我是您的忠实粉丝，我为今晚终于能吃上你的手艺而感到高兴，但请允许我问您一个我一直以来都在想要问您的问题。请问您的姓究竟该怎么发音呢？

正吮着一口酒的艺术家Rirkrit Tiravanija: Tiravanit

Girolamo Marri: 真的嘛？我做梦都不会想到是这样！泰国人的名字是最复杂的。

 

在Gervasuti基金会的一个派对上

我不记得了的那个谁: 瞧你身后那个戴着顶黑帽子的老家伙，那是Joseph Kosuth。

Girolamo Marri: 真的嘛？那个观念艺术家？哇，那我一定得跟他聊聊，他肯定是个很有劲的人。

我不记得了的那个谁: 其实他刚才跑上楼往水槽里撒了泡尿。

 

伦敦来的有范儿画廊主: 我喜欢百科全书展的理由在于他们把Ryan Trecartin又大又乱的装置和Wade Guyton干净冷静的作品放在一起….

 

坏脾气的艺术总监: 截止目前，Trussardi派对是最好的；DJ很棒，Jarvis Cocker也到场助兴。有喝不完的酒，我们待了通宵，直到我那有名的英国艺术家男朋友跑来让我跟着他出去，我还以为他要找点货让我highhigh，结果没想到，他是要让我嫁给他。

Sitting on a bench
Bearded Film Director: Stop saying I’m obsessed with conspiracy theories! It’s just plain evident that it’s only because of pressure from four of the five new collectors from Angola that the pavilion won the Golden Lion.

On a very full vaporetto
Olive Oil Producer-Turned-Auctioneer: I just went to the Angola Pavilion. I’m not sure, I think I don’t get it; it’s like a tribute to Felix Gonzales-Torres, and then I see people who compulsively steal all these cheaply made printouts, none even glancing at the marvelous frescoes all around them in the palace. It must be a comment on consumerism of the image, on capitalism and private property. It must be — but I’m not sure I get it.

On a vaporetto
Girolamo Marri: So, you saw the Angola Pavilion? I’m guessing you liked it ’cause most people said it was horrible.
Female Half of the Overcritical Artist Couple: Actually. it was excellent, in its genre.
Girolamo Marri: What genre?
Male Half of the Overcritical Artist Couple: The pick-stuff-from-a-pile genre.

On a serendipitous encounter at a restaurant where Flamboyant Artist is about to order pizza with his fiancé.
Girolamo Marri: What do you think of Ali Kazma’s videos at the Turkish Pavilion? Not bad huh?
Flamboyant Artist: Not sure; very well shot and pleasing images, but that five-projection installation was very nineties….
Girolamo Marri: (laughing) I love how you can make such a knowing comment as “that video is so nineties”!
Flamboyant Artist: Actually I’m just repeating what Hyperactive Museum Director said.

On a vaporetto going towards the Giardini, passing in front of a huge Marc Quinn sculpture of a female torso, placed in front of a church.
German tourist: What is that?
Venetian: I have no idea
German Tourist: Is it going to stay there forever?
Venetian: Fingers crossed, no.

Marc Quinn’s inflatable sculpture “Breath”.
马克·奎恩的充气雕塑《呼吸》。

On the day the winners are announced, I stumble upon the celebratory drinks for the combined Lithuanian and Cyprus Pavilions, which won a special mention from the jury (I’m guessing for being also such a pleasantly non-clean, punk pavilion). I am introduced to and congratulate the curator, Raimundas Malasauskas, who’s wearing a fantastic plasticky hoodie with a print of some psychedelic tropical seascape. Flamboyant Artist points out that the reflection of the palm tree in the water is not chromatically accurate.

View of the Lithuania and Cyprus Pavilion, which won a Special Mention by the jury, during a live performance.
立陶宛和塞浦路斯馆场景，获评委会大奖，现场表演中。

 

Tino Sehgal’s performance in The Encyclpedic Palace show of people turning into crawling human beatboxes, won him the Golden Lion as Best Artist of the Biennale.
提诺·赛格尔在“百科殿堂”中的表演，展现了人逐渐变成了爬行的人类B-box，作品为他赢得了双年展最佳艺术家的金狮奖。

Sitting on a bench
Girolamo Marri: I am quite happy Tino Sehgal won the lion.
Bearded Film Director: What are you talking about? That was the shittiest piece by an artist who only does shit pieces.

Very Polite Assistant at the Hong Kong Pavilion: It’s a shame you couldn’t make it last night to the Pavilion dinner. It was really beautiful! They rented out the whole square of the Rialto fish market and turned it into an open air restaurant where we ate fresh daily catch. It was a little chilly really, but we were all given white blankets to wear on our shoulders and legs. Lee Kit made a selection of 80s music; it looked like a performance.

If you like Berlinde de Bruyckere, you should go and see the Belgian Pavilion, ’cause it’s really Berlinde de Bruyckere.

While I’m drinking a spritz with Ginger-headed Curator at the end of the canal in Via Garibaldi
Old Miami-Based Cuban Artist: I’ll take a picture of you two if you want. Actually of her alone, ’cause you are too ugly.
…I overheard what you were talking about, ’cause we Cubans are so smart and attentive that we can listen to all conversations around us at once.
You should really go and see the Cuban Pavilion at the Archeological Museum; it’s really good — the best.

Having morning coffee in the living room at Giudecca
Girolamo Marri: You actually gave marks to what you saw? And how did you rate the Italian Pavilion?
Male Half of the Overcritical Artist Couple: We gave it 2 out of 10.
Girolamo Marri: What? That’s ridiculous! For once I was not embarrassed to be Italian! Christ, it was much better than the last time, and the time before!
Female Half of the Overcritical Artist Couple: You’re right, we rated it as much worse the other times.

People watching a documentary video on “Straight” the work presented by Ai Weiwei in Zuecca project Space in Venice
威尼斯的祖埃卡计划空间，人们在观看由艾未未带来的纪实性视频作品《Straight》

The Chinese Pavilion is awful. If one wants to show off on technology, it needs to be done properly at least. The very compelling images by Wang Qingsong were completely ruined by the strange hues cast by the light boxes they were in; the projection screens in the room on the right all looked slightly mismatched, and the lighting of the works of the whole place was inconsistent. It really reminded me of those times when it made a lot of sense to say that in China quantity matters, and quality doesn’t.

I much preferred visiting the collateral show “Noise,” which I guess was produced with a fraction of the budget. In it, technology was not a tool to impress, but rather the object of speculation and critique. And I loved the way they were parasite-izing the Prada Foundation show, which opened just next door.

Having said this about the Chinese Pavilion, I want to thank them for having me at their dinner at the Danieli, which was delicious; I especially enjoyed the potato purée with vegetable pearls and sea bream — a real delicacy.

Hyperactive Museum Director posts on Facebook at 8 am something along the lines of “Let’s meet at 10 am today in Piazza San Marco to protest against the repression happening in Turkey right now!”

I feel instantly sympathetic and press “like”. Then, full of good intentions, I fall asleep again.

An inspector on the vaporetto walks around checking tickets. Artist Loca and I are forced to jump off way before our stop, while the Overcritical Artist Couple, who for some reason have tickets, giggle.

The main show, The Encyclopedic Palace, is fantastic. I will not restrain myself. I am probably among those who loved it the most. I spent about four hours in the Arsenale section and another five in the Giardini, and I intend to go back after the summer. It really is an encyclopedic show, where, while you see some really good contemporary art, you are also reminded of the drive which pushes individuals as well as communities to try to interpret the world around them and their existence at large. It is a truly contemporary museum, where links between different items on display are loose and the pace is fast — like a search on the web — and intuition has exactly the same weight as logic.

We are picked up at Lido by a special shuttle bus to go to the Danish party in the old airport. The place is lovely, with its 1930s architecture and late-Futurist canvases hung high on the walls. The crowd is outside facing the stage where Peaches is performing half naked. Although the absurd demand of the Danes that I pay for my drinks slightly upsets me – Christ, I’m here to work, not for fun! — I’m in such good company and the music is so mesmerizing that I dance happily for a long time, lost in memories of when ten years ago I saw Peaches screaming and dancing and spitting fake blood on the audience in a club in Rome, and I was with a very beautiful and drunk friend and I thought I would hit the jackpot by suggesting that she, Peaches and myself have a threesome, which clearly didn’t happen in the end.

I leave the Welsh pavilion party, where predictably I drank a lot of beer, following this beautiful musician and her friends, theoretically on our way to the Irish Pavilion party where we predict more drinking. It’s raining and I’m carrying the girl’s guitar pretending to be a gentleman but hating myself, for the thing is astoundingly heavy. Soon I realize these people are never going to get to the other party, and I leave them, hoping to make it to my friends at the other party by myself. It’s not going to be easy; I don’t have the address, my phone is out of battery (a common issue in Venice I found), I’m not sober and I was not blessed at birth with any sense of direction. I find myself in many a dead end, including one in front of a canal, where I try to quietly rid myself of some liquids and instead, damn this city with no cars, I cause the roar of a waterfall. It’s only after a very long time that I follow the right trail of drunkards and land at the Irish party where I can have a toast with my friends. All’s well that ends well!

Difficult to judge the French Pavilion. I spent there half an hour in sheer pleasure, listening to the combined executions of a Ravel symphony by two different pianists in a room built for perfect acoustics for a cost of, I presume, no less than 100,000 Euros. It was amazing, but I’m not 100% sure this is why I go to an art show.

2 frames from Anri Sala’s videos at the French Pavilion.
法国国家馆中来自杏·萨拉的双屏视觉作品。

Viewer at the Swiss Pavilion
瑞士馆的参观者

Outside the Swiss Pavilion, where I’m thankful as I’m fueled with Prosecco, I meet a Swiss girl I have not seen in a long time.

Girolamo Marri: What did you think was good about this pavilion?
Swiss Girl I Had Not Seen in a Long Time: The fact that it’s in a very beautiful building.

Olive Oil Producer-Turned-Auctioneer: Go and see the Tapies show at Palazzo Fortuni; Tapies is great and the building is fantastic.

Girolamo Marri: I am a serious fan of yours and I’m so happy tonight that I’m going to eat food cooked by you, but please let me also have an answer to this question that I have always wanted to ask you. How do I actually pronounce your surname?
Artist Rirkrit Tiravanija Sipping on a Glass of Wine: Tiravanit
Girolamo Marri: Really? I would have never guessed! That’s incredible! Thai people have the most complicated names.

At a party in the Gervasuti Foundation
I Don’t Remember Who: Hey, see that old guy behind you with a black hat? That’s Joseph Kosuth.
Girolamo Marri: Really? The conceptual artist? Wow, maybe I should talk to him, he must be quite an intense character!
I Don’t Remember Who: Apparently he just went upstairs and pissed in the sink.

Hip Gallerist from London: The only thing I really liked of the Encyclopedic Palace show was the juxtaposition of the very messy and overwhelming work of Ryan Trecartin with the cleanliness and calm of Wade Guyton next door….

Temperamental Art Director: The Trussardi party was by far the best; they had amazing DJs and Jarvis Cocker played too. There were endless drinks, it lasted all night and at some stage my Renowned British Artist boyfriend asked me to follow him to what I presumed would be drug consumption, and instead he asked me to marry him.