The Brooklyn Rail

In 2016, in response to the rapid decline in oil prices, the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia recognised the pressing need to diversify its revenue sources and launched Saudi Vision 2030. Under the directive of King Salman bin Abdulaziz and Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, the country embarked on a wide-reaching reformation program that was to cut through all sectors of society—public, economic, social, and cultural. The official document which launched Vision 2030 formally recognised the indispensable role of culture in enhancing the quality of life, admitting: “We are well aware that cultural and entertainment opportunities currently available do not reflect the rising aspirations of our citizens.”

Less than a decade later, the Diriyah Biennale in Riyadh has emerged as evidence of the Kingdom’s dramatic societal reorientation and strong commitment to supporting cultural events. I had the opportunity to speak to Ute Meta Bauer, the Artistic Director of the 2024 edition of the Diriyah Contemporary Art Biennale, about leading the Biennale’s second edition and Saudi Arabia’s cultural transformation.

Natalia Gierowska (Rail): This year’s Biennale theme is After Rain. Can you elaborate on this theme’s choice and how it resonates with the current societal and cultural context in Saudi Arabia?

Ute Meta Bauer: The title After Rain was chosen with careful consideration, mainly because it needed to resonate with our predominantly Arabic-speaking audience. It was a long debate as Arabic is such a complex language and hence this title stems from an Arabic poem that holds special significance here. The phrase After Rain symbolizes a moment of renewal and nourishment, much like how rain brings life and growth. However, it also conveys the potential for flooding, representing relief and challenge. This duality captures a nuanced, transformative moment—petrichor, the smell after rain, evokes a moment of fresh and clear air, a subtle moment that resonates with most people.

Rail: And is that subtle moment also supposed to refer to the current historical moment in Saudi Arabia’s transition?

Bauer: It is not just specific to Saudi, but it represents a unique moment of transformation and the creation of energy, and this movement is strongly felt here. In my experience working in various parts of the world, I’ve found it fascinating to observe the unfolding of this. When people come together, a vibrancy is released, and you see engagement and change happening. I have always been interested in those short moments, a vacuum, when something new can be created and formed. This period, both here and globally, embodies that transformative arriving force.

Rail: In your past curatorial projects, you have often explored themes that intersect with societal and environmental issues. I wondered if your previous work, such as your involvement with the Singapore Pavilion at the Venice Biennale, or with other Biennales, impacted the development of the After Rain theme.

Bauer: My curatorial work has always been influenced by a range of themes, growing out of feminist and gender debates in Europe. Documenta11 introduced the question of colonialism and postcolonialism, adding another layer to my focus on feminism. The issues of who has access to resources like food, water, and shelter that are centrally discussed here at the Biennale, are directly connected to environmental awareness and people’s livelihoods. It is a triangulation of themes, where everything is in proximity and interconnected, making these issues visible and their interconnectivity is important to me.

In smaller communities, such as those in the Indo-Pacific, voices are often less heard because of their geographical remoteness. This raises the question of how we can listen to and amplify these overheard voices. My sensitivity to this issue undoubtedly stems from my early experiences when female artists were hardly heard. I believe it is crucial to listen to a diversity of voices, including nature, which also wants to be heard.

Large-scale interventions can lead to environmental hazards, especially if they happen rapidly, making them unsustainable. It’s not just about the environment, as each environment is also a lived habitat, that requires a post-human perspective to protect them, acknowledging that we do not live here alone. At the Biennale, you can find such inter-species engagement: artist Tomás Saraceno “collaborated” with spiders, creating spiderwebs, presenting their architectural skill and beauty, natural materials that possess their own intelligence. This prompts us to recognise coexistence, as we humans often act like the elephant in the room, behaving like we are the most important and sophisticated species.

Rail: It is indeed beautiful that nature finally gets to share a platform with the arts. Can you tell us more about the challenges and opportunities you encountered in curating an exhibition that had to highlight both local heritage and contemporary global art trends?

Bauer: When curating a biennale, it’s crucial to work towards a specific location and moment in time, respecting the local context. However, you don’t want to simply present locals with what they might already know better than you. I believe in juxtaposing local elements with works and topics that resonate with, but also potentially challenge, the local debate. I refer to this as an architecture of discourse, with the aim to establish a dialogue between the two. If this dialogue is activated successfully—though I prefer not to create comparisons but rather foster conversations—such curatorial endeavour is usually felt by the audience, who can interpret it at their own pace, without needing extensive explanations.

It is a challenge to communicate effectively, especially when your audience might be unfamiliar with the artists, techniques, or discourse surrounding a particular work. My goal is to make the Biennale accessible and meaningful without oversimplifying it. As curators, it’s vital to question ourselves constantly, ensuring we create engaging and thought-provoking experiences for diverse audiences.

Rail: The Biennale presents 177 works by 100 artists from 43 countries. How did you ensure a cohesive narrative while incorporating such diversity?

Bauer: I don’t believe an exhibition has to be entirely cohesive; it’s beneficial to also create dissonances and provoke questions. Of course, some structure is necessary, especially in an ample space with a vast audience, but you also want to provide the freedom to navigate and allow for temporal experiences. We aimed not to overcrowd the exhibition but to create meaningful juxtapositions so that visitors understand there is a deliberate reason behind each placement.

Knowing the space intimately is crucial. It was immensely helpful to spend a lot of time in the venue, and to work closely with an exhibition designer that I have collaborated with for a long time. Together, we designed the space with the artwork and the audience in mind, ensuring that each piece could be experienced thoughtfully and intentionally.

Rail: You have previously explored sensory experiences in your exhibitions. How did the collaboration with artist Sissel Tolaas develop the signature scent of petrichor to enrich the visitor experience? What were your goals in incorporating this unique sensory element?

Bauer: The notion of petrichor as a smell is clear, but my collaboration with Sissel Tolaas spans thirty years. Initially, her work with smells wasn’t widely accepted as art, but that perspective has changed significantly. It was essential for me to work with artists who understand language vision and could react and translate it through artistic language. I wanted a smell that truly embodied After Rain.

Previously, for the 3rd Berlin Biennale, Sissel created a flacon that merged five neighborhoods of Berlin into a single center. Our environments, particularly cities, are navigated not only visually, but also through sound and smell. In Saudi Arabia, scents like oud and bakhoor are deeply ingrained in the culture, making the use of smell highly relatable to local audiences. It was impactful to create a sensory cartography through the works, incorporating multivocal elements like sounds, food, and storytelling to show that art manifests beyond the visual.

After Rain features film, performance, and books that we translated into Arabic, allowing the diverse artistic expressions to be accessible for the Arabic speaking visitors. As the country opens up, this approach makes the Biennale accessible to a broader public, demonstrating that art provides a wide range of materials, forms and experiences.

Rail: How did the unique topography of Diriyah influence the selection and presentation of works in the Biennale? Can you share any examples where the site significantly impacts the artwork or its interpretation?

Bauer: Diriyah, with its unique historical layers, profoundly impacts the majority of artworks at the Biennale. We are engaging with Wadi Hanifah, a seasonal riverbed, and the House of Saud, and the traditional natural adobe brick architecture. Additionally, Diriyah’s evolution into an industrial warehouse adds another layer and context, making it a heritage site with multiple temporalities.

For example, the Ajax and its warehouses are reflected in a working-class neighborhood. While behind the biennale’s buildings, the Wadi Hanifah created an old natural pass, which is currently being restored and allowed birds to return, an insect hotel for DCAB 2024 that will be relocated to a local farm after the Biennale. The presence of an active palm plantation has led to extensive collaboration with the local farms, which influenced the food and drinks artists created during the Biennale in Pakghor, a social kitchen by Britto Arts Trust from Dhaka or the NJOKOBOK juice bar, created by artist Apolonija Šušteršič and cook Youssou Diop who run a community-geared restaurant in Oslo. I wanted to introduce Diriyah and its complexity as a site and show how much a site matters to various aspects of artistic work.

Rail: You have a strong record of integrating various disciplines into your exhibitions. Could you expand on how you approached the involvement of writers, poets, and scientists and how you envision this interdisciplinary approach enhancing the exhibition?

Bauer: My experience in research and at art school universities made me realize that universities have been siloed into distinct disciplines, but the varied challenges we face globally today require a transdisciplinary approach. Whether dealing with conflict, societal issues, crisis, or climate change, to address these, collaboration and exchange across the aisles is essential. We must acknowledge that working in isolation does not lead to solutions. Cross-disciplinary and transnational information and knowledge sharing are crucial.

Academic knowledge must be in conversation with Indigenous knowledges, and the situated practical wisdom of local communities will often have remarkable insights into environmental sustainability. With the Biennale we wanted to present these resonances and demonstrate how people from different demographics can come together. It was of great benefit for us to collaborate with the Center for Vegetation and Desertification, the Institute of Traditional Arts (TRITA), King Abdullah University of Science and Technology (KAUST), and its marine biology lab, and local farms and chefs.

A biennale is not a museum; it serves a different function. It is a hub for intersectional dialogue and interaction. I wanted to show these possibilities to various policy makers in the Ministry of Culture, as well as the ministry of science, and stress that change should not only occur within their structures but also need to be initiated across different structures.

Rail: Your background as a professor and educator is evident in how accessible and engaging the texts are for a diverse audience, to both experts and laypeople alike. The involvement of thinkers, academics, politicians, and experts from various fields in this Biennale undoubtedly adds significant value. Are you considering doing something with the valuable body of knowledge generated from this Biennale?

Bauer: We are currently working on a visual reader that will serve as an exhibition walk-through, introducing the yearlong Biennale Encounters, the performative and time based work, but also the inquiries and engagements that artists often pursue over years.

Often, after a Biennale, all that remains is a guidebook, which shows some works but doesn’t capture the whole experience. An exhibition is more than a sum of individual pieces; it’s about how these works interact and are perceived in proximity to each other. Our reader will incorporate the artistic research projects. We hope to give access to some of the research material and introduce some places, effectively creating a cartography of the exhibition.

Rail: This Biennale is quite unique, as it transcends the usual remit of the Ministry of Culture. It also intersects with the Ministry of Education, Ministry of Environment, and Ministry of Tourism.

Bauer: Exactly. We had involvement from the Ministry of Energy, Ministry of Transportation, and others. This Biennale represents a new way to engage art with various fields and ticks multiple boxes. Art was always present at certain regional hubs, but it rarely intersected so broadly. This Biennale serves as an arts and culture enhancement, provoking the visitors to ask what the featured artworks mean, from where the artists are etc., and I believe it’s a good moment to pose all these questions.

Rail: How do you contextualize and present works from foreign artists to ensure they resonate with local audiences?

Bauer: I strive to include works that resonate with each other and have a universal appeal, much like music does. For example, Citra Sasmita, an artist from Bali, works with embroidery together with women in Jembrana, West Bali’s Muslim communities, which people here can easily relate to. Another example is works involving spiderwebs, by Tomás Saraceno, which also have a broad appeal with kids and adults alike. Additionally, pieces like the Golden Teardrop (2013) by Arin Rungjang, incorporating the production of Thai sweets that originate in Japan, intersect both Portuguese customs and themes of colonialism whilst installed as a mesmerising geometric hanging form, providing multiple points of entry for viewers.

It’s essential to offer something that allows people to connect with the presented work without oversimplifying it. Equally crucial are our eighty-eight local hosts, who have undergone extensive training, met many artists, and are always available to assist visitors in multiple languages. They take their roles very seriously. The success of this exhibition is a collective effort involving the team, the artists, the communicators, and even the maintenance staff.

Just yesterday, someone from the management operations team, who had previously worked on sports events, expressed gratitude for being part of this project, telling me it has been eye-opening for him. Unlike the Venice Biennale, with its centuries-old infrastructure, many things we did here are done for the first time. We faced failures and struggles but achieving our goals has been immensely satisfying. Personally, I feel that this Biennale has been a deeply emotional experience for me and the entire team, as well the artists, with developing aspects that took decades elsewhere, too.

Rail: How has the support from organizations like Aramco and the Abdul Latif Jameel group influenced the Biennale’s development?

Bauer: They didn’t directly support us; rather, we sought access to visit Aramco, which wasn’t easy [laughs]. The Jameel group supports us with local transportation. Their involvement did not influence the projects, rather, they contributed through conversations and collaborations. Saudi Arabia is an oil-producing country facing significant environmental issues, so navigating this in light of a carbon-free future is complex. We can’t ignore the lack of fresh water in a dry landscape—this requires desalination, and desalination requires energy. It is not as straightforward as one would wish.

It’s a complicated and complex situation everywhere, not just in Saudi Arabia. Therefore, we must continue engaging in conversations with energy producers and indeed shift to more environmentally friendly practices. At the same time, we need to also talk to consumers about reducing our own energy consumption because, ultimately, it’s our consumption that drives market demand. Such ongoing dialogue is critical for addressing these intertwined issues.

Rail: Local community engagement emerges as a critical aspect of your curatorial practice. What strategies have been employed to ensure meaningful engagement with local audiences in Saudi Arabia, and how do you see this Biennale contributing to the cultural fabric of the country and region more broadly?

Bauer: Our co-curator Ana Salazar Herrera mentioned today that every day here feels like the opening of the Biennale. The public workshops are fully booked and have waitlists, as the Biennale has become a destination not only for Riyadh’s residents but also for people from Diriyah who may not have as many resources. They can come here, enjoy a free meal at Pakghor, the social kitchen created by Britto Arts Trust from Bangladesh, and participate in so many different activities offered by PPT—Mr. Zahrani, a local farmer who is actually a doctor working in the local hospital, is here almost every day, inviting people to visit his farm. Over the year, we have built local relationships and involved the local community through our Biennale Encounters that run over the course of a year, and included workshops and talks related to the topics explored by the Biennale.