The Past Echoes: Unpacking the 25th Biennale of Sydney’s “Rememory”
The 25th Biennale of Sydney, under the evocative theme of “Rememory,” invites audiences to delve into the enduring power of the past, a sentiment powerfully captured by William Faulkner’s assertion that “the past is never dead. It’s not even past.” This expansive exhibition, stretching from the tranquil Nepean River in the foothills of the Blue Mountains to the iconic Sydney Harbour, offers a compelling exploration of how historical narratives and personal experiences continue to shape our present.
Curiously, the artistic director, Hoor Al Qasimi, whose background is marked by considerable privilege and whose curatorial choices have sparked discussion, has assembled an exhibition that amplifies voices from cultures often sidelined in mainstream discourse. “Rememory” provides a platform for artists whose experiences and perspectives are integral to understanding our collective history, rather than mere footnotes in the annals of power.
Confronting Identity and Otherness
Abdul Abdullah’s work directly confronts the lived reality of prejudice. His Cronulla triptych, a series of paintings recreated from staged photographs of young white men attacking defenceless men of colour, serves as a stark reminder of how easily individuals can be rendered as “alien” due to their appearance. Abdullah masterfully employs actors and photography to imbue his painted scenes with the gravitas and meticulous detail reminiscent of Renaissance masterpieces, forcing viewers to confront uncomfortable truths about racial animosity and its lasting impact.
In stark contrast, yet thematically linked by the struggle for recognition and rights, the Ngurrara artists’ monumental Canvas II (1997) dominates the floor of the Art Gallery of New South Wales. This vast work is a physical manifestation of their native title claim for the Great Sandy Desert. Each community contributed their unique artistic language to assert their ancestral connection to the land, demonstrating through ceremony and paint the profound and true meaning of their heritage. The decade-long creation of this painting underscores the arduous journey towards reclaiming and asserting Indigenous rights and land ownership.
The Fragility of Rights and the Persistence of Memory
The underlying thread of the fragility of Indigenous peoples’ rights and the potential for their dispossession runs through many of the biennale’s offerings. Within the historic wing of the Art Gallery of New South Wales, Taysir Batniji’s sculpture, No Condition Is Permanent, poignantly highlights this vulnerability. At first glance, it presents as a minimalist composition of interlocking rectangular lines. However, closer inspection reveals that these lines are meticulously crafted from small blocks of soap, each imprinted with Arabic script. The translated words, “no condition is permanent,” carry a profound weight, particularly for Batniji, a Palestinian artist from Gaza now based in Paris. Crafted from olive oil using a traditional Palestinian recipe, the artist encourages visitors to take a bar of soap. The intention is for the sculpture to gradually diminish throughout the exhibition, a powerful metaphor for the impermanence of political states and the enduring resilience of cultural identity in the face of adversity.
Industrial Echoes and Artistic Resilience
The White Bay Power Station, with its imposing industrial aesthetic, has been touted as a new hub for the arts. While its cavernous spaces might lend themselves to certain types of performances, its suitability for displaying delicate artworks is questionable. The raw, decaying machinery and imposing concrete structures often threaten to overwhelm the art, reducing it to secondary elements.
Despite this challenging environment, Chen Chieh-jen’s monochrome videos on incarceration and liberation manage to hold their ground. Enclosed within cell-like structures, these works create a contained space that allows their powerful narratives to emerge without being subsumed by the industrial backdrop. Chen’s practice of collaborating with individuals from his local communities to explore themes of confinement and freedom is a testament to art’s ability to give voice to the marginalised.
Intergenerational Trauma and the Fight for Justice
Further exploring the impact of systemic injustice, the Campbelltown Arts Centre showcases the work of American artist Dread Scott. Scott, who adopted the name of a prominent abolitionist, presents a series of stark black-and-white portraits of young men incarcerated for crimes often linked to poverty. One poignant photograph captures a smiling boy with the accompanying text, “My child was INMATE OF THE MONTH at County Jail,” a chilling indictment of the juvenile justice system.
Adjacent to Scott’s work, Helen Grace’s 1980 photo essay documents the protracted campaign to free Violet and Bruce Roberts, victims of domestic violence who were convicted of killing their abuser. Grace’s powerful images capture the bravery of women confronting lines of police officers, a scene that might be met with arrest in today’s more authoritarian climate. The campaign for Violet Roberts’ freedom was instrumental in shifting legal perspectives on domestic violence, demonstrating the transformative power of activism and art.
Behrouz Boochani, renowned for his account of his time on Manus Island, has collaborated with Vernon Ah Kee and Hoda Afshar to create two impactful installations. These works, presented across both the Campbelltown Arts Centre and the Chau Chak Wing Museum, condemn the Australian state’s treatment of its children. Boochani reveals a disturbing parallel between the punitive practices used on Manus Island and those within the Queensland juvenile justice system, even down to the colour-coded emergency designations. Vernon Ah Kee’s Code Black initially appears as a series of abstract colour fields. However, upon closer inspection, words emerge, revealing a coded language: brown signifies hostage, blue denotes a medical emergency, green indicates an escape, purple represents an external threat, and pink points to self-harm. The ultimate code, “Code Black,” signifies a riot.
The devastating impact of the penal system on Indigenous children is further amplified through a four-channel video installation. This powerful work features Indigenous children who have experienced incarceration, their faces obscured in the lower section to preserve their privacy while amplifying the profound despair and lack of hope for their futures.
Navigating the Biennale’s Expansive Reach
The sheer scale of the 25th Biennale of Sydney presents a unique challenge for visitors. Concerns about the geographical distances between venues, such as the perceived remoteness of Penrith, highlight a broader issue of accessibility within Sydney itself, where areas like Elizabeth Bay can feel equally distant to many residents. While public transport is promoted, reaching some venues, like White Bay, often necessitates a taxi.
The most pragmatic approach to experiencing “Rememory” is to treat it as five distinct exhibitions, dedicating a full day to each. This allows ample time to engage with the numerous extended video works, such as Merilyn Fairskye and Michiel Dolk’s temporal exploration of Woolloomooloo at the Art Gallery of NSW, and Keith Piper’s 22 Yards of Earth at Penrith. Piper’s work offers a profound and witty analysis of cricket, colonialism, and the enduring satisfaction of defeating England, transcending mere sport to delve into historical power dynamics.
In the face of any critical commentary, the advice is simple: engage with the art. Utilise trains, buses, and taxis to traverse the city’s diverse landscapes and communities. By doing so, visitors will not only witness compelling artistic expressions but also connect with the shared concerns and enduring histories that resonate across Sydney’s many vibrant communities.
The 25th Biennale of Sydney runs from March 14 to June 14.
