Despite
growing up in the city and living here all of my life, I had never stepped foot
into the Cunard building before, or any of the three graces, for that
matter. This therefore meant that simply entering the space and discovering
what had been hidden from me all of them years, was, art aside, an appealing
prospect on its own. When I entered the building I sensed a notable degree of
opulence radiating from the interior. There was a certain sense
of grandiosity attributable to the fact that
this
was once the central headquarters and main passenger terminal for the world’s
most famous shipping company. This former utilisation of the building
links rather effectively to the biennial’s theme of Hospitality when one regards how the
building would have been a very welcoming and hospitable space for traveling
visitors. I must admit, however, that I deemed the space far less engrossing
than the Copperas Hill building; this was because it deemed itself much more
sparse and rarely displayed any old relics from the building’s former
utilisation. As much as I was there for the art there was an undeniable desire
to uncover some of the building’s magnificent history, so I was rather
disappointed to find myself in a beautiful, yet empty, relic-less shell.
One of the first pieces in which I was confronted with when
entering was Liverpool to Let by a Danish art group called Superflex. Their work is quite
literally a series of hanging ‘To Let’ signs, which make an allusion to
the abundance of empty office and commercial spaces in
Liverpool. Evoking ideas of the recession and economic struggle it
practically epitomises the political
and sociological context, which pervades today’s art biennials.
Unfortunately, the room that Liverpool to Let was
displayed in was one of the worst examples of curation within the whole biennial
I believe. I had heard others criticise the curation within the
Cunard building, but I tried to be unprejudiced and decide for
myself. However, I would undoubtedly agree with their
criticisms. The pieces, which reside in the Liverpool to Let space do
not aesthetically compliment one another - between them, visually, there
is a discordant mixture of clashing styles and aesthetics. Even though I
usually resent pieces being placed together
simply because they harmonise visually, I think some degree of
visual complementation is needed between neighbouring pieces. I would
have criticised less if the pieces perhaps shared some inherent contextual
or conceptual parallel, but from what I could gather - they did not. They
may all subscribe to the biennial’s theme of Hospitality in some way or another but
there is not an evident concept, besides this obvious commonality that exists
between them. I particularly disagreed with Andrea Bowers’ City of Sanctuary being
placed over Mona Hatoum’s Afghan
(red and black), as the visual contrast
between them was overtly disagreeable, in my opinion. I simply
resented the idea of an audacious neon sign hanging oddly over Hatoum’s
piece.
I was thrilled to see Mona Hatoum’s Present Tense in the flesh.
Although I had seen images of it in books and online hitherto, it was quite
another thing to see it first hand. The smell of the soap, for one thing, made
it a very sensory experience, which I obviously would never acquire simply
looking at a secondary source. Notably, Hatoum produced it in response to the
map of the ‘1993 Oslo Peace Agreement’ between Israel and the Palestinians. The
lines produced by the red glass beads identify the territories that are to be
given back to Palestinian authority. Hatoum has employed traditional Palestinian
olive soap in order to symbolise impermanency. Because soap is a transient
material it acts as a metaphorical reference to the idea that one day the new
Palestinian borders shall disappear and be washed away. The most thriving
aspect of this Hatoum work I believe is how the materials she has utilised hold
symbolic and conceptual importance with regards to shaping the work’s overall
meaning.
All in all, it was undoubtedly Mona Hatoum’s work that made my
experience of the Cunard biennial site more than agreeable. My admiration of
her work derives from its effective balance of high aesthetic value and
profound contextual meaning. In other words, she laudably combines
a beautiful visual with an engaging concept, which makes the viewing
experience of her work both visually and mentally stimulating. With most of the
work within the biennial possessing a somewhat non-retinal focus, looking to
pursue concept over aesthetic, it was rather refreshing to see an artist such
as Hatoum achieve the same success in her aesthetic as she more than always
does within her concepts.
