Cultural mediation connects audiences to artwork through conversation that meets visitors where they are. It works to communicate an artist’s intent in a way that builds on the viewer’s own understandings and experiences, without mediators dominating any of these exchange as “the experts”. Eight cultural mediators were selected to work in the Australian Pavilion at 61st International Art Exhibition – La Biennale di Venezia, spending time with Khaled Sabsabi’s conference of one’s self and its visitors. These postcards come from two of the mediators, JORDAN AZCUNE and LISA FULLER. conference of one’s self is curated by Michael Dagostino.
In the Pavilion, we take prickly – but workable – statements and turn them into a sort of friendship that spans between us as mediators, the art, the audience and the artist. Statements like, “can you tell me what this is about, but, like, quickly?” “How is this controversial?” “Could they have put in more seats?” Or my favourite: “Is this Austria?”
One Australian visitor tells me, without any introduction: “Oh, it’s an opal!”
“I can see how it could look like an opal,” I reply. “Would you like to know more about the installation?”
“No, it’s an opal. Thank you.”
Who am I to say it’s not an opal? I like this kind of engagement. It’s generous, intuitive, and responsive to audience and environment. Like Khaled Sabsabi himself, I’m interested in the power of the symbolic and spiritual; I swoon over the abstract, as if it contains everything.
There’s also something to be said for its ability (and the artist’s openness) to be flexibly understood like this, with – as Sabsabi has said – no fixed meaning. No fixed meaning is different from no meaning: maybe it’s its opposite? Maybe it opens the infinite? Either way, this emotional and conceptual fluidity acts as a kind of a dance, each of us seeking to understand each other’s world.
I was still warming up, mid-morning, when I saw two middle-aged, conservatively-presenting visitors. They were smiling – nearly giggling with joy – at conference of one’s self, Sabsabi’s installation. This, I thought, is going to be fun.
“I can tell you’re enjoying the work,” I began. “I was wondering, would it be okay to hear what you see in it?”
“I see Jesus!” one of the women replied, genuine and unsarcastic; and beaming into my eyes.
I was raised a Jehovah’s Witness, and braved the streets as one of their missionaries; I smiled over any of my own biases or judgements. “Are you spiritual?”
And we went on to explore what spirituality meant for her – as a meditation, a slowing down of one’s senses, rhythm, community, the sublime. She was a choreographer from Northern Europe, and so I spoke about Sabsabi’s hip-hop background, his Sufi philosophy as a practice of an inner, mystical dimension of Islam. We built shared ground, hitting something deeper, connecting, while we stayed close to the poetics of Sabsabi’s work.
We were looking in, into the space, and into ourselves; it was if we were in a conceptual and spiritually guided tango.
Exploring the work’s details, she noticed abstracted figures and crowds swaying: these are projected onto and synchronised with the gestural marks of paint on Sabsabi’s canvas. This crowd, this community – which Sabsabi recorded in western Sydney – began to bleed out from the artwork’s glow onto the illuminated faces of visitors closer to us. As if at a kind of round table, we were each in equal standing with the artwork but unable to see it in totality. We were seeing others see what we couldn’t see; noticing a shared experience where views of magic were revealed and concealed.
Yes, she said; although she and Sabsabi came from different parts of the world and different faiths, she could see his vision of humanity here. – Jordan Azcune
Khaled Sabsabi’s conference of one’s self is a humming, pulsing, mesmerising work that forces visitors to slow down as soon as they arrive. For the thousands of people who visit every day, it can be a welcome pause. During summer, visitors contend with intense heat, high step-counts and itching mosquito bites in their efforts to “see” La Biennale.
By design, people journey through the octagonal space of the Australian Pavilion in their own time, often leaning close to the artwork’s surfaces. Sabsabi’s technique of projecting images onto painted canvas is intentionally mysterious, and viewers often navigate a phase of bewilderment; curious but confused. His practice of layering media, materials and symbolism also challenges viewers to search for understanding, which makes it a perfect artwork for cultural mediation.
When I began preparing to come to Venice, I read Conference of the Birds by Attar of Nishapur, the twelfth century Persian poem that inspired Sabsabi’s conference. In the poem, a group of birds undertakes an arduous and lifelong voyage in search of a deity who will act as their divine leader. Finally reaching the end of their journey, they are met not with a single godlike entity, but instead with their own reflections.
The divine is within them.
Having spent several weeks in the Pavilion, I’ve been wondering about the poem’s ending. Is Attar’s message that the divine is within each of us? Or within all of us? There’s a distinction here between the individual and the collective that I’ve been turning over in my mind.
As I consider this, I find myself in conversation with an Iranian artist; she has also created an artwork inspired by Conference of the Birds. She’s the first visitor I’ve spoken to who is familiar with the poem – so familiar, she’s attended study groups about it. She’s pleasantly surprised that I have read the poem, and then it’s her turn to surprise me as she admits that she too has become fascinated by the ways others interpret Attar’s ending. As we discuss this, we conclude – together – that it isn’t one or the other. It’s both. Each and all.
This is what’s wonderful about cultural mediation: sharing these moments – which sometimes deliver a profound philosophical conversation with a stranger on a Thursday afternoon. Together we deepen our understanding and connect with one another, thanks to an artwork that invites reflection on our shared humanity. – Lisa Fuller
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Jordan Azcune and Lisa Fuller are two of the eight cultural mediators selected by Creative Australia to work in the Australian Pavilion at this year’s Venice Biennale. Jordan Azcune is an artist and maker based in Magandjin/Brisbane who is driven by materials and their processes. Fascinated with colour, optics, and spiritual connection, his artwork relates to the natural world, the body, and architecture. Lisa Fuller is the Gallery Leader at Redcliffe Art Gallery, City of Moreton Bay, on Kabi Kabi Country. She is committed to connecting audiences with contemporary art and to using it as a catalyst for dialogue around important local and global issues.
All images by Andrea Rossetti.
