We spent Day 2 of our Biennale viewing in the Giardini, which is where most of the country pavilions are located as well as the main pavilion. Here's the entrance to the main pavilion....
Belgium Pavilion selfie. Thankfully it was a bright sunny day. There was a wonderful wax cast of a very large felled tree in here but it was so dark my pics didn't really come out.
This was in the Dutch Pavilion
Eva Kotatkova at the Czech Pavilion. A table covered in interesting sculptural objects.
Loved these two small paintings by Ellen Altfest in the main pavilion
Oliver Croy and Oliver Elser, The 387 Houses of Peter Fritz in the main Pavilion
Exquisite sketchbook drawings by Jose Antonio Suarez Londono of Columbia
Hilarious clay sculpture by Peter Fischli and David Weiss
"Dr Spock looks at his home-planet of Vulcanus and is a bit sad that he cannot have any feelings"
"Charlton Heston kisses Dr Zira in Planet of the Apes"
Rialto Bridge before repairs.
Lunch
Not quite as good as yesterday's pumpkin tortellini but some nice salmon and roast beef.
Brazilian Pavilion. Interesting interleaved phone books.
Serbian Pavilion. Mickey Mouse product placement.
Serbian Pavilion, little animal heads from found camera cases.
This was, i think, one of the best pavilions, the Romanians, who were recreating historical performance pieces. Fun, witty, unexpected, somewhat theatrical but also very mundane and even kinda sexy.
Ai Wei Wei at the German Pavilion. Are German artists ok with that?
The little stool that didn't get to be an Ai Wei Wei.
Jim in the British pavilion
Shary Boyle representing Canada.
Some light in a corridor in the French Pavilion, not part of the Biennale.
The Russian Pavilion where a shower of golden coins fell on the female spectators, but not the men. It felt a bit weird to be excluded by gender but i guess that was the point.
Those coins could hurt so an umbrella is provided.
Sarah Sze does an excellent job at the American Pavilion.
After about 5 hours and all but one pavilion, here we are with our legs only slightly longer.
Walking our way back home.