Mr. Guggenheim, Tear Down This Pavilion! Another biennale tour through the national pavilions is cause for some reflection about the U.S. pavilion building itself. Should we replace it? It might be the most frustrating building of all the pavilions, and possibly the worst exhibition venue in the Giardini. Designed in 1930 by architects William Adams Delano and Chester Holmes Aldrich, its symmetric layout is vaguely Palladian, with a front door leading to a foyer where visitors choose between going left or right. Its small scale also presents challenges, and its normative white walls provide a sterile environment. The only saving grace of the pavilion is its forecourt, which in recent years has been capitalized on with interventions such as Teddy Cruz’s scrim in 2008, the monumental 4-story habitable facade by Paul Preissner and Paul Andersen in 2021, and Marlon Blackwell’s porch in this year’s rendition, curated by Peter MacKeith. However, the most radical intervention into the building came in 1970. In a wave of student protests at the 1968 art biennale, protesters “revised” Fascist statues, which were seen as restrictive and outdated. These protests advocated for a more democratic and less commercial Biennale. Influenced by this movement, in 1970, a group of American artists cut a glass wall in the side of the pavilion, disrupting its symmetrical plan and connecting the interior of the right gallery to the outdoor forecourt. This architectural gesture opened the pavilion and the print exhibition—including an open, active printing workshop—to the public, as well as to various transnational artists participating in the workshops. These artists included Copenhagen’s Per Arnoldi, London’s Michael Fossick, Greek-Parisian artist Rena Tzolakis, and Ibrahim Hussein of Kuala Lumpur. Should the U.S. pavilion building be replaced? (Fred Romero/Flickr/CC BY 2.0) But the real radical move in 1970 was when approximately 25 of these 47 artists—including Andy Warhol, Robert Rauschenberg, Carol Summers, and Claes Oldenburg—withdrew in protest, moving their work and many of the associated participatory workshops to the abandoned U.S. embassy next door to Peggy Guggenheim’s palazzo along the Grand Canal(!). All of this to say: Perhaps the U.S. should leave the pavilion behind for greener pastures. China, Italy, and Uzbekistan have sprawling industrial spaces in the Arsenale complex that are better for showing architecture and art. Maybe we could do a house swap with another country for a couple years or Airbnb our current spot? Or perhaps we could just spring for a random building in Venice, like Taiwan, the Holy See, or Portugal, all of which had venues that were more conducive to immersive exhibition-making. Or in the spirit of Trump, we could sell our dusty old pavilion to a Gulf country. Our location represents 20th-century geopolitical positioning—the U.S. alongside the European powers—but is symbolic at best, with even this symbolism waning in the 21st century as Asia, Africa, and the Middle East have increased influence. Qatar will soon build a new pavilion in the middle of the Giardini, an enormous statement about the state of geopolitics and the flow of money today. The American pavilion is now a landmark, so it is unclear exactly what might be possible to change. Does the enviable Giardini location of the U.S. Pavilion warrant tolerating its outdated and awkward layout and galleries? What kind of pavilion would represent the United States arts community today on the global stage? Likely not a neoclassical, white-wall gallery—at least I hope not. (It’s important not to conflate the antics of each presidential administration with how the U.S. arts community is represented. This is a common misconception to what degree the theatrics of governments are truly connected to that country’s artists and architects who are shown in any given year.) Several pavilions this year, including Denmark, Finland, France, Japan, and the Holy See were about reuse, renovation, and other experimental forms of change. Why not the U.S.? It is time to open a conversation about either renovating, replacing, or abandoning the U.S. pavilion’s 1930 building to better represent our country today. A Banjo in the Giardini On Friday and Saturday, crowds arrived to sit on America’s porch. Charles Sharpless of Someplace Studio set up a kit of wooden pieces for kids to play with, and the duo Meadow Makers serenaded guests with its sweetheart folk. (Their banjo case has a sticker in the shape of Arkansas that says “I carry Narcan.”) A bevy of talks saw leading architects, landscape architects, and artists in dialogue, including Marlon Blackwell, Larry Scarpa, Carol Ross Barney, Angela Brooks, Deborah Berke, Susan Jones, Jed Donaldson, Jerome Haferd, Walt Swanson, Jason Wright, Ceara O’Leary, Benjamin Cadena, Leah Kemp, Owen Nichols, Mark Bollettieri, Frances Anderton, Siddhartha Majumdar, James Shen, Steven Ehrlich, Chana Haouzi, Matt Okazaki, Robert deLeon, Tenna Florian, Andrew Kudless, Katherine Hogan, Matthew Mazzotta, David Baker, John Paul Rysavy, and others. It warmed AN’s heart to see so many practices we cover regularly have a chance to share their talent with the world, within an overall curatorial message of welcoming community. We heard a lot of good things about the new front face of the pavilion. ArchDaily founder David Basulto told AN the pavilion was a “big ass porch, and I liked it.” Diagrams On the way to the AMO/OMA-curated Diagrams show, AN ran into Vishaan Chakrabarti and publicist Rachel Judlowe leaving the Fondazione Prada. The duo immediately and enthusiastically expressed their annoyance with the show. Well, AN enjoyed it, as it is a straightforward concept and presentation about the history of diagrams and their use for constructing meaning, communicating data, and reimagining the world. Ancient documents were included, dating back to the 12th century, expanding the canon of the diagram, which is often considered a 20th-century phenomenon. Later, over negronis, Chakrabarti, Judlowe, and AN were able to come to a consensus: Because nearly all the content is flat, the show makes a great book. (The catalogue was sold out the day we visited.) A number of national pavilions incorporated scaffolding into their exhibitions, including the Holy See. (Andrea Avezzù) Slippery Digits Our ace coverage was slowed when one correspondent took a spill on a bridge over a small canal on the way home Thursday night. He became the laughingstock of the biennale but was undaunted and forged ahead phoneless in the narrow, maze-like Venetian streets. Many people remarked it must be liberating to not have a phone! It was, in fact, not liberating, having to ask people “which way to San Marco?” In the end, it all worked out: He got home safely, and his screentime average for last week was way down. We were somewhat comforted to hear that one of the more talented executive assistants we know (who works for an architect who will not be named) had also dropped hers in the canal. Holy Reformations Scaffolding continues to be a popular approach for exhibitions. Near Arsenale, the Holy See commissioned Opera Aperta, curated by Marina Otero Verzier and Giovanna Zabotti. Tatiana Bilbao ESTUDIO and MAIO Architects handled the design, which is the ongoing renovation of the Santa Maria Ausiliatrice complex. The building is under restoration, so beyond community gathering spaces like a kitchen, it is set up with scaffolding, scrim, and yellow construction lights. (There’s even a piano that guests can play if the spirit moves them.) The impressive activity showcases architecture work as a form of care and follows a decade after Pope Francis’s Laudato Si’ letter, which outlines how we ought to better care for our common home. Construction will continue for four years. CO-EXIST in the China pavilion explores how traditional Chinese philosophy intersects with technology and environmental change. (Andrea Avezzù) MAD Skills China’s offering at the previous architecture biennale was embarrassing, but thankfully not a lot of people had a chance to see it: Quickly after the vernissage, China pulled out of the biennale and closed its show, citing opposition to a piece in the main exhibition by Killing Architects about the re-education/detention camps in China’s Xinjiang province. Now, China returns with CO-EXIST, a great exhibition curated by Ma Yansong of MAD Architects. The show “brings together twelve groups of exhibitors to explore how traditional Chinese philosophy intersects with contemporary technology and environmental change.” There are imaginative pieces by emerging Chinese designers, like Vault of Heaven, a whirling suspended dome by Wang Zigeng, a professor and a director of PILLS; a spiky, moss-clad future city dubbed City in China – Nature of ALL Things by WAY Studio; and answer to Broadacre City with a large model consisted of recycled models composed together by People’s Architecture Office, PAO, who also had a piece in the U.S.’s PORCH exhibition. Don’t miss the big paper umbrella sculpture outside. The Las Vegas of the East A “special administrative region” within China, Macao made the most out of a small exhibition footprint: Pritzker Prize winners Wang Shu and Lu Wenyu of Amateur Architecture Studio have installed detailed handmade models with interventions that stand out in white paper, while the walls are populated with photos by Iwan Baan of the area. Additional university research shows how the city expanded over time from a well-preserved historic district to include a casino city. Mirrored Majesty As covered by AN’s Dan Roche, Uzbekistan’s pavilion, A Matter of Radiance, delivers a big punch with the presentation of The Sun Institute of Material Science, a heliocomplex or sun furnace. Curated by GRACE studio of architecture, design and urbanism (Ekaterina Golovatyuk and Giacomo Cantoni), the warehouse is filled with artistic experiments, photographs, and material samples. The best part is the single mirrored heliostat that slowly rotates at the entrance. Where Is India? India represents nearly 18 percent of the world’s population, so it’s odd that the country doesn’t have an official national presentation at the architecture biennale. Though Indian architects have shown work as part of major exhibitions, it hasn’t had a large presence; it has only made two official appearances in the art biennale. Maybe 2027 will be the year for India to go big and mark 80 years of independence? Lions Released See this post to see who took home the prizes. DS+R told AN that the city government is still completing its two-stage tests on the filtration system for Canal Café. (Marco Zorzanello) But Actually, Who Won the Biennale? The answer is obvious: Elizabeth Diller. With the construction of a temporary bookstore; a long-anticipated café; Boxed: The Mild Boredom of Order, a six-screen video that follows the journey of consumer products on view with the V&A as part of On Storage curated by Brendan Cormier; and the Golden Lion, she had a great week. Bravissima! Diller’s month will likely get better: DS+R’s V&A East Storehouse opens on May 31. Re: Canal Café Permitting is such a drag. While the Canal Café attracted long lines, its espressos aren’t yet made with purified lagoon juice. DS+R principal David Allin shared with AN that the city government is still completing its two-stage tests on the filtration system before allowing the water to be slurped by citizens. The system works, but it hasn’t yet jumped through all the administrative hoops to go live—plus, the last thing La Biennale wants is a gaggle of global archi-influencers experiencing gastrointestinal distress on their long journeys home. It reminds us of when Diller told AN about how the office embraces risk and that its Blur Building could’ve given all of Switzerland Legionnaires’ disease. Re: “A Remark [We] Made” Previously we called a panel with Rem Koolhaas organized by Christopher Hawthorne “boring and largely academic” due to its lack of productive exchange. Other critics were similarly baffled; Fabrizio Gallanti called it “a total car-wreck” as the moderators asked the “wrongest of questions” before ending 20 minutes early. But later, word got out about the circumstances, and it seems Koolhaas was playing hard to get. According to Florencia Rodriguez, he received the questions in advance and in preparation sent a text by Frederick Jameson about himself (maybe this one?). But then on stage he refused to answer questions, instead preferring to dismiss them as “bizarre” or undermine the premise. “It was extremely disrespectful to us organizing this and showed a tremendous lack of generosity,” Rodriguez said in an Instagram comment. The series in part was a way to construct a bridge between the Biennale Architettura and the upcoming Chicago Architecture Biennale that will be curated by Rodriguez on the theme of Shift: Architecture in Times of Radical Change. It will open on September 19. Critics were harsh on the the British pavilion, but it was awarded a special mention by the jury. (Marco Zorzanello) Duck! Here Come The Reviews… Early takes on the biennale are in, and the results ain’t great. Writing in The Observer, Rowan Moore said: “The best thing you can say is that it’s full of energy and ideas, the worst that it’s a hot mess of pretension.” “You might need to bring your scientific dictionary to this year’s exhibition, along with a good deal of patience,” Oliver Wainwright wrote in his review for The Guardian before slighting the British Pavilion, which went on to win a special mention from the awards jury. As usual, the piece is chock full of zingers. If only Wainwright would spend more time in the U.S. to address more stateside carbuncles. Charlotte Malterre-Barthes took to Instagram stories to issue her thoughts. “What a depressing show. This exhibit exemplifies the terrifying future tech architecture is shoving down our throats.” She described Ancient Future by BIG, a wooden beam activated by two Bhutanese artisans crafting alongside a robot arm, as giving “1920s colonial exhibitions vibes,” referencing the turn-of-the-century practice of putting humans from “exotic” countries on display. Other attendees told us they had the same thought. (It also gives John Henry vibes.) BIG’s Kai-Uwe Bergmann told AN that the woodworkers would be onsite for about three weeks and shared that this trip was the first time the guys had flown on an airplane and left the country. Patrik Schumacher loved Carlo Ratti’s exhibition. Writing on Facebook, he said Intelligens was “thrilling to behold after so many years of an increasingly annoying woke take-over of our Biennale.” He didn’t like the introductory “allegoric” room of hot air—something many people cited as their favorite piece, for its bodily shock and critical stance—and also noted the show prizes experiments and studies over full-blown architectural projects. Before continuing on to trash nearly all the national pavilions for not showing architecture, he wrote: “I hope this show represents a turning point that contributes to the resuscitation of the drained/dying discipline of architecture, bereft of discursive-critical feedback and crowded out by the woke agenda or sustainability agenda (however worthy.)” Like Wainwright, Schumacher also complained about this year’s show in the British pavilion, but as mentioned, the jury liked it. Whew, that’s it for now. Stick around for additional reviews online and in our upcoming June print issue.