Two teenagers stand on the center court of the NGV International: a girl texting, and a little further away, a boy with his hands in his pockets. They stand 12 meters tall and are black, and are on display as part of the third edition of the NGV Triennial: the National Gallery of Victoria’s massive exhibition of contemporary international art and design, which opened on Sunday.
These giant youths, the work of British sculptor Thomas J Price, are a distinctive choice for this central location. While they’re impossible to miss, they’re missing the spectacle of the massive reclining Buddha (by Chinese artist Xu Zhen) and the super-sized rotating digital display (by Turkish-American artist Refik Anadol) that occupied this central spot for the inaugural Triennial in 2017. ) in 2020. In contrast, Price’s sculptures have an anti-monumental feel; everyday. They ask the question: What is worthy of greatness? What space does it take up in public and museums? How do these Big Important Things make us feel as viewers? Is bigger actually better?
This moment seems emblematic of this latest edition of the Triennial and the changing nature of the show over its nine years. The Triennial, which is free to enter and has proven itself with record attendance numbers and secured its place as a major event in the national arts calendar, may now try a little less hard; Be more superficial and fun.
There’s a sense of shameless provocation in the giant thumbs-up sculpture by British satirist David Shrigley at the gallery’s street entrance, and in the two banners hung at the building’s entrance: one with a photograph of art prankster Maurizio Cattelan’s infamous banana work, the other with a banner. A photograph of British artist Ryan Gander’s precocious animatronic mouse, its head sticking out of a small hole in the wall. (NGV doubles down on Catellan’s joke by giving the banana its own white cube space, with Gander’s talking mouse in a conveniently anti-heroic corridor position.)
That doesn’t mean this year’s Triennial isn’t a Great and Important Spectacle. The numbers alone are huge – almost 100 works or projects by more than 120 artists, designers and collectives are spread across three floors of the gallery – before you even try to wrap your eyes and brain around the exhibition. (Do not under any circumstances attempt to do a “Triennial” in one visit.)
There are show-stopping moments and big-name acts aplenty: a text-based work by Yoko Ono on the building’s north façade, and a participatory installation about mothers inside, a suite of newly acquired works by Tracey Emin, and a collection of fantastical works. The look and accessories are from Maison Schiaparelli. This year’s Instagram bait will include Sheila Hicks’s giant blue thread-like balls (a soft antidote to Ron Mueck’s giant skulls from 2017) and Swiss artist Franziska Furter’s “weather room”: delicate, delicate, depicting infrared satellite images of hurricanes A hyper-coloured carpet covered with patterns. transparent glass beads that resemble rain.
But the placement of Price’s youthful figures at the center of the Triennial seems to represent shifting priorities and the gallery’s sensitivity to worldwide debates about representation in museum spaces, and the visibility of black people in particular.
This is supported by excellent artwork by black artists; these include works by US photographer Tyler Mitchell (who rose to fame at just 23 with Beyoncé’s history-making Vogue cover photo) that “recreate small moments in the everyday”; and two works by New York-based artist Derek Fordjour (also a favorite of Beyoncé) include the hugely successful video work Fly Away, in which the puppet figure of a young black man struggles not only to survive but to thrive while trying to exist. taking. is guided by four white (and human) puppeteers.
Textile works are also featured in this year’s edition, reflecting the revival of the art form. Alongside the Sheila Hicks work, a large room on the ground floor is given over to Mun-dirra: a maze-like installation of 10 large woven pandanus panels created over two years by 13 women from the Burarra language group in West Arnhem Land. It utilizes traditional techniques used to make fish fence traps. As I wandered through the channels of this installation, inhaling the grassy scent of dried pandanus, I fell into ecstasy; In a dream moment, I dreamed that I was a fish.
Another standout among major textile commissions is Mexican designer Fernando Laposse’s 40-foot-long epic narrative tapestry Conflict Avocados, which presents a remarkable real-life story of environmental degradation, human exploitation, and Indigenous resistance in disarmingly soft pastel tones ‘type. Pigments obtained from avocado seeds and marigold flowers are used.
There are also powerful works on a smaller scale: as I lose my way through the rabbit-bird collection galleries on the second floor, I suddenly find myself face to face with a striking symbolist tapestry woven from hand-dyed cotton by the US artist Diedrick Brackens. A black figure kneeling on dark red soil, holding a chain between his raised fists.
Painting is also in force at this edition, from veteran APY artists Iluwanti Ken and Betty Muffler to mid-career Melbourne painter Prudence Flint and Tehran’s Farrokh Mahdavi. It predominates in works by so-called “ultra-contemporary” artists (born after 1975), including British art market stars Lucy Bull and Flora Yukhnovich, New York-based painters Chase Hall and Ilana Savdie, and Czech artist Vojtěch Kovařík .
Among the packed gallery spaces that often command the viewer’s attention, these paintings stand out for their presentation: Yukhnovich’s radiant works are juxtaposed with examples of Dutch floral still lifes and the French Rococo paintings that inspired him; A special carpeted corner is reserved for Flint’s suite of enigmatic domestic portraits, placed next to striking 16th- and 17th-century female portraits by Flemish masters; it is a style that shapes his practice.
Among the many impressive displays spanning the room, including installations by Japanese floral artist Azuma Makoto and Kosovo artist Petrit Halilaj, one of the most spectacular is Melbourne artist Richard Lewer’s large, jewel-toned paintings depicting biblical sacred flowers. It is divided into one suite. The story of Adam and Eve. In the dark space, two sets of six paintings face each other from opposite walls, while on the adjacent wall is a breathtaking 16th-century altarpiece of the Passion of the Christ. In the center of the room, two church pews were placed in a row for quiet contemplation.
As in previous editions of the triennial, these moments when old and new art come together are some of the most magical, with each work creating strange, exciting vibrations in the other. New York-based artist Diana al-Hadid won the grand prize for two major new sculptural exhibitions inspired by (and incorporating) ancient and medieval objects and artworks from the NGV collection, including two magnificent Renaissance paintings.
Set within a figure-of-eight gallery space adorned with gold, dramatically lit and draped in dramatic black velvet, this is a moment of theatrical coup.
Similarly, many of the Triennial’s weakest moments have to do with design and presentation. While many contemporary works are successfully incorporated into collection displays to illuminating effect (in the Chinese and South Asian collections, for example), there are a number of installations that feel confusing, even harmful. Italian artist Diego Cibelli’s dramatic white throne sculpture made of fruits and vegetables gives the feeling of being lost at sea among impressionist landscape paintings and 19th century portraits. Almost all the contemporary works installed in the much-loved, densely hung Salon room feel overwhelmed (and therefore overwhelming), including the carved tree scenes by Natsiaa award-winning Aurukun artist Keith Wikmunea and Vernon Marbendinar that should rightly be blasted.
Off to the side, Guatemalan artist Vivian Suter’s refreshingly vibrant canvases threaten to overshadow three striking but relatively stark black-and-white paintings by Pitjantjatjara artist Timo Hogan; There is no apparent logic behind the juxtaposition; it’s a feeling that’s strengthened by inclusion. It’s in the same room as a 19th-century English landscape by Constable and an 18th-century marine piece by Thomas Gainsborough.
In such a large exhibition, representing a wide range of art forms and aesthetics in a relatively limited space, it is not possible to present every work in its best light. Inevitably some will shine and some will not. As I wandered for hours through the labyrinthine NGV galleries to find each work, I felt that less art could mean more impact. Maybe bigger isn’t actually better.
However, you’ll be hard-pressed not to be rewarded by taking even 20 minutes to explore this Triennial; With so much work chosen with love and care by the entire curatorial staff of the NGV, finding great works of art can be like trying to catch fish in a barrel. You definitely can’t miss it.