Unfolding Pavilion: #OPENGIARDINI

The fourth Unfolding Pavilion, a pop-up exhibition concept inspired by the space it occupies on each occasion, opened on May 19 at the opening of the 18th Venice Architecture Biennale. After previous editions in Ignazio Gardella's Casa alle Zattere, Gino Valle's Giudecca social housing and the lost replica of John Hejduk's House, #OPENGIARDINI was dedicated to the Giardini della Biennale: the Venetian site with the highest concentration of modern architecture, with buildings by Alvar Aalto, Josef Hoffmann, Gerrit Rietveld, Carlo Scarpa, James Stirling, Sverre Fehn and more. ț
The Giardini Pubblici, commissioned by Napoleon in 1807 to provide a green lung for the densely built city of Venice, was a public park designed by local architect Giannantonio Selva in the style of neoclassical landscape gardens. Much of the fabric of the city, including three Renaissance churches and a monastery, had to be demolished to build the public gardens. Permanent pavilions were built in the park from 1895, when the first International Art Exhibition opened. Much of the area has since been fenced off and given to the Biennale, removing it from public use. In 1932, the perimeter of the enclosed enclave of the Giardini della Biennale was extended to include land on the neighboring island of Sant'Elena. Today, only a third of the total area of the Giardini is open to the public, the rest being accessible only during the visiting hours of the Art and Architecture Biennale.
The Giardini della Biennale, on the other hand, are not private property: they are located on public land that the city of Venice grants free of charge to the Biennale in exchange for maintenance and security. This is a clear case of private expropriation of public territory by an institution that has colonized Venice for the last 100 years: something worthy of discussion at a Biennale dedicated to decolonization. Incidentally, when there are no exhibitions and the pavilions are closed, the entire Giardini could theoretically be open to the public 6 months of the year. However, access to the park part of the Biennale is restricted and controlled year-round by the system of gates, walls, fences, CCTV cameras, metal spikes, barbed wire and armed guards that define the Giardini's urban front.
Unfoldin Pavilion's most visible intervention was a large banner hanging from Sant'Antonio di Castello's Lando Arch. This was no accident: the arch is the last surviving remnant of former churches that were demolished to make way for public gardens. The banner, designed by Michele Galluzzo, was strategically placed in the public part of the Giardini, directly in front of the Biennale's entrance gate, on the opposite side of the visual axis that ends with the British Pavilion. The banner featured an angry emoji face demanding that the Giardini be given back to the people. A sticker campaign with the same graphic was also launched across the city.
The opening of the pavilion took place behind the Lando Arch. Laurian Ghinițoiu's photographic project was exhibited there: the result of several walks around the perimeter of the Giardini made to document the various devices through which the permeability and impermeability of the Biennale is negotiated in space. The images were printed on transparent Plexiglas, so that viewing them required looking through them, symbolically dissolving the edges in the image.
The recent proliferation of the Biennale's hostile access devices has caused people to 'jump the fence' and sneak into the Giardini without tickets or invitations: a form of resistance practiced by locals since the first editions of the Biennale. However, the boats moored on the banks of the canal that runs through the Giardini, well within the confines of the Biennale, indicate that the Biennale's border is not completely impenetrable. These boats are owned by Venetians who have been randomly assigned docking places by the city of Venice and therefore require free access to their vehicles, crossing the Biennale border without the Biennale's permission.
This web of conflicting interests has generated two territorial exceptions where the Giardini fence is interrupted by the canal: two weak points in the fortified perimeter of the Biennale where boat owners have developed their own system of access to the enclosed enclave. These unofficial entrances are neither comfortable nor safe, requiring leaping over high barriers, descending ladders suspended above the water, and avoiding medieval-class deterrents such as spiked fences and walls with broken glass embedded in mortar. Not the most dignified way to go to work every day.
Since the Biennale seems to have no intention of finding alternative solutions to the boat owners' surreal situation, we thought we could at least try to make their entry routines easier and more dignified. At the same time, we wanted to make a clear statement in hopes of sparking a discussion between the city, the Biennial and the National Pavilions, all of whom are responsible for the current gridlock situation.
At the southern end of the canal, behind the Greek pavilion, an archway with the #OPENGIARDINI sign stood atop the riverside access. Alessandro Mason, Davide Tommaso Ferrando and Lucas Geiger designed this portal to resemble a ceremonial doorway. Beyond the portal, three staircases installed to mediate height differences led to a long red carpet that accompanied the walk up to a rusty spiked fence. Red tape was applied to cover the rust, swollen clown noses were glued to the spikes, and a soft grip was installed where the bargoos hung to swing around the barrier. The red carpet stretched across the fence to the first docking stations.
At the opposite end of the canal, a steel ladder inserted into the thickness of Giardini's brick wall on the back of the Austrian pavilion (whose theme and exhibit we greatly appreciate) was taped with red tape to make it more visible and enhanced with more reliable fastenings.
Built during the preview of the exhibition, most of the installations were removed by Biennale staff in the following days, once entry to the Giardini became possible by ticket. Of course, we expected the Biennale's reaction: the removal of our unauthorized interventions, however, had the sole effect of making the daily life of the bargees as difficult as before.