29 Jul Marco Fusinato
This Friday is a bit atypical. When I started Contemporary Art Friday, I envisioned it as my safe space, where I can step away from my daily job and chores and let art guide the way. I’ll call it therapeutic even, because I find the whole process of researching the work of an artist who inspires me absolutely mesmerizing. Still, this week I feel drained.
This year has been a whirlwind regarding my career, as part of the medical residency at some point you have to complete multiple rotations. It seems to be getting harder every single time the few months are up because of the sum of variables which make these changes absolutely exhausting. Furthermore, although they are supposed to account for valuable teaching, I feel like I’m constantly stepping further away from the specialty I chose and absolutely love – endocrinology, as I haven’t been able to work there for a long time.
Therefore, when I thought of who I should write about this Friday, I was stuck not because I don’t already have a long list planned, but because I felt I simply cannot provide the same energy and passion levels. I closed my eyes in disbelief and suddenly Marco Fusinato ’s “Desastres” project which represents the Australian Pavilion at the Venice Biennale appeared and I knew I had to share my take on how I perceived the live experience.
The moment you get close to the Australian Pavilion in the Giardini, there is a intriguing noise coming your way. But once you step inside, the musical notes become excruciating because of the volume intensity chosen: you see a floor-to ceiling LED wall featuring a stream of images running at fast pace, and to its right, you will notice the artist himself, Marco Fusinato, as the sole interpreter of the notes and noise which take over the entire space.
I knew right then the installation is a test of endurance, with the sounds coming from the artist’s electric guitar immediately occupying my whole body and mind. I caved after two minutes, and it’s not because I didn’t understand the concept, or I wasn’t entranced by the pictures changing within seconds, but because the noise was simply too much for my ears to bare. In contrast, my partner stayed there for over twenty minutes and I believe he would have spent even more time there, if we weren’t behind schedule. He still cites the installation as his favorite Pavilion of the entire array of countries. I think my mind immediately jumped back to this experience to highlight a situation where I simply couldn’t make it through and I chose to take a step back, as there is no running away from my responsibilities in my current life situation – I have to be present and deal with all the events unfolding, just as I should have let all the pictures and noises flood my conscience that day in the Giardini.
In my time leading up to our Venice trip, I tried to avoid reading all the press and reviews on the National Pavilions, I really wanted to be in touch with how I feel about the art I see, and not risk any bias, but I did read some titles that said something along the lines that you either hate the Australian Pavilion or you love it with your entire heart. It intrigued me, but I’m glad I resisted and didn’t even glance at a photo of the installation view, because the experience completely shook me to the core.
I think what makes the encounter so visceral is the fact that images flicker so fast and in full synchronicity with the discordant noise generated by the artist and his electric guitar. Perhaps the most shocking element is the fact that the artist himself performs every day of the 2022 Biennale, during all the hours the Pavilion is open and you can’t help but admire his commitment to his project. I find it funny that as I waited for my partner outside the Pavilion – where the noise was still so loud – people who would exit would voice the same simple question I first had “I sure hope the artist wears the best earplugs”.
Then there were the images: I could distinguish many of the were related to war, but then there were some still life scenes which I couldn’t link to the others. I learned afterwards that this selection of images which may seem disconnected at times was generated by the artist by searching the name of the project “Desastres” translated in multiple languages on various platforms, which made me appreciate Marco Fusinato ‘s artistic practice even more. Not only searching for a word in several languages will generate so many divergent results, but also the choice to improvise the musical notes and noise every single day of the Biennale will generate a slightly different experience. And if you are wondering what keeps the artist inspired throughout the process, you will notice in the almost empty exhibition space that in front of him lays a 17th century Italian painting with depicts a severed head.
No matter what you make of your visit of the Australian Pavilion this year, there is no running from the intense physicality you will experience. Will your mind prevail when your body will urge you to start running? Or will you feel right at home and want to take residence in the space yourself? Either way, it’s in one of the most confronting works of art I’ve ever encountered.
References:
Marco Fusinato website
All photos and video taken by © Adrian Cojocaru
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