BIENNALE OF SYDNEY 2000  LOOKING BACK  1973  1976  1979  1982  1984  1986  1988  1990  1992/93  1996  1998  2000 Looking Back The Biennale of Sydney 1973-1998 Paula Latos-Valier The Biennale of Sydney was created in 1973 as an international showcase for contemporary art. Conceived, invented and financially supported by Franco Belgiorno-Nettis, it grew out of the Transfield Art Prize for contemporary Australian art, an acquisitive prize which reached its peak in the 1960s. It operated for about a dozen years before Transfield decided to transform what was a local initiative into an international exhibition. From the beginning of his association with contemporary art Belgiorno-Nettis aimed to encourage creativity, as well as change the attitudes of Australians towards recent art. He felt that the inventiveness in new art would energise the broader community and encourage innovation and creativity. The Biennale of Sydney, which he modelled on the successful Venice Biennale, was a way of opening up Australia to the world at a time when it remained relatively unknown. His aims were to encourage communication and dialogue as well as build links between Australia and other countries. In 1973 the Biennale of Sydney held its first, modest exhibition of thirty-seven artists in the exhibition hall of the new Sydney Opera House, an event opened with fanfare by the Prime Minister, Gough Whitlam. Taking part were artists from fifteen countries, over half being from nations in the Asia Pacific region. This recognition of the links between Asia and Australia, and the showcasing of Asian contemporary art within a wider western context, was quite visionary for that time. After a three year interval the second Biennale exhibition was held in 1976. Titled Recent International Forms in Art it took place against a backdrop of heated political debate concerning the dismissal of the Whitlam government. The opening ceremonies, presided over by the new Prime Minister, Malcolm Fraser, met with an artists' walkout. This was the first Biennale held at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, which was to become the primary venue for the exhibition over the next two decades. The 1976 exhibition was also the first with a clearly articulated curatorial theme developed by one artistic director. The decision to allow a single curator to determine the theme and the selection of artists became the hallmark of the Sydney Biennale and is perceived to be one of its enduring strengths. The work in the 1976 exhibition explored new forms in sculpture including video, performance and mail art, each of which tested the basic definition of sculptural form. Much of the work selected by Thomas McCullough caused considerable debate in the community. People were confronted by the non traditional mediums of Stelarc, an artist who suspended his body from hooks piercing his skin, to Fujiko Nakaya whose fog piece which filled the Domain Park at the entrance to the Art Gallery of New South Wales, was literally a sculpture with no substance. In all, eighty artists from ten countries participated in the second Biennale, which was strongly focused on recent work from the Pacific Rim. The exhibition also included a small number of European countries such as Italy, Germany, France, Holland and Britain. The third Biennale in 1979, European Dialogue, was substantially larger, involving over one hundred and thirty artists from nineteen countries, and including special exhibitions of recent European drawing and uses of photography which toured nationally. Nick Waterlow's concept was to explore the influences and links between Europe and Australia, and questioned the predominance of New York as the international art centre. Many major European artists were seen in Australia for the first time, and made an enormous impact on local audiences. The late 1970s was a period of considerable political debate and polarisation, on issues such as equality of women's representation and the percentage of Australian art required in international exhibitions. Public demonstrations and street marches coincided with the opening of the third Biennale and the exhibition became a backdrop for sometimes heated discussion. A small grass roots publication, Biennale of Sydney: Red Herring or White Elephant captured the essence of the debate and today gives considerable insight into the spirit of that time. In 1982, the largest of all Biennale exhibitions involved over two hundred and twenty groups and individuals and seventeen countries took part. Bill Wright's Vision in Disbelief was an inclusive event which featured separate sections devoted to performance, video and sound, the latter being presented in part at a new venue, ABC Radio. Memorable performances included Min Tanaka, Anthony Howell and Terry Allen. The video section presented at the University of Technology drew enormous interest and the video works of Laurie Anderson and Brian Eno were particularly popular. A pivotal exhibit was the creation of the largest Aboriginal sand painting ever presented indoors. It was an enormous undertaking. Truckloads of red earth were delivered and packed down to create a smooth surface which filled one entire gallery of the Art Gallery of New South Wales, over a number of days the white patterns taking shape. Other memorable works included the enormous projections of Krzyzstof Wodiczko's anonymous corporate persona which gave the high rise facades of the city skyline an unsettling presence. This Biennale was also distinguished by a vibrant six week program of lectures, performances, and international panel discussions, as well as a broad based program of satellite exhibitions. An ambitious national outreach program took international visiting artists to many cities around Australia for lectures and workshops, and provided direct contact in a way which had never happened before. This program left a legacy of friendships and professional relationships which subsequent Biennales would continue. Enormous controversy erupted over a painting by Juan Davila, and its seizure by the vice squad fuelled heated media coverage. The Premier of New South Wales and Minister for the Arts, Neville Wran, rose to the occasion and defended freedom of expression in the face of police censorship of an art exhibition. The resulting media frenzy, as well as threatening references by the extreme right to confiscate the exhibition catalogue which illustrated the work, kept the exhibition on the front pages for weeks. In 1984 Private Symbol: Social Metaphor, the fifth Biennale of Sydney, brought together the work of sixty-six artists from twenty countries and spanned several generations. It took as its theme the expression of personal and public political issues and explored the metaphors and symbols used by artists to express their beliefs. There was a strong figurative thread running through the exhibition, and an intensity of imagery as well as conceptual belief. Leon Paroissien selected works with clear political references and powerful images invited viewers to contemplate their own positions on issues as varied as sexual politics and economic rationalism. A new approach to photo-based media by artists like Barbara Kruger, Cindy Sherman, Hans Haacke and Gilbert & George - who displayed one of their largest works ever - communicated powerfully to a broad cross section of society. The 1986 and 1988 Biennale exhibitions were directed by Nick Waterlow and both made use of a major new venue, Pier 2/3. It was also used as a major venue in the 1998 Biennale. This huge timber wharf provided rough, industrial space of enormous proportions for large installations and site specific work. It is remembered for such captivating pieces as Wolfgang Laib's sifted flower pollen, and the massive rough hewn structures of Magdalena Jetelová. Pier 2/3 made it possible to bring to the public work of a scale hitherto difficult to house, and inspired many artists to make new work specifically for Sydney. Its dramatic, cathedral-like ambience transformed many unforgettable installations, including the two hundred Ramingining burial posts in 1988. The theme of the exhibition in 1986, Origins Originality + Beyond, questioned the concept of what constitutes originality in the work of artists as diverse as Malcolm McLaren, Eric Fischl, Carlo Maria Mariani and Glen Baxter. Baxter created a memorable and eloquent image for the catalogue and poster, It was Tom's first brush with Modernism which playfully engaged some of the serious undercurrents of the theme, as did McLaren's spray painted framing of his album cover image for Bow Wow Wow's Go Wild in the Country. At a time when the transition between modernism and postmodernism was at its height, the sixth exhibition explored the origins of form and imagery as well as the nature of quotation and appropriation in the art of one hundred and twenty three artists from twenty one countries. In 1988, the year of Australia's Bicentennial celebrations, the Biennale of Sydney toured for the first and only time to Melbourne making it a national event for that year. The theme presented a particular Australian perspective on world art from 1940 onwards and featured key early works by artists such as Léger, Duchamp, Klein, Balthus, Bonnard, Beckmann and de Kooning. Pier 2/3 was chosen to house the moving Aboriginal memorial, a work made of two hundred hollow log coffins from Ramingining, one burial post standing for each year of white settlement in Australia. Also at the Pier was a large installation by Hermann Nitsch whose video tapes provoked a second visit and confiscation by the vice squad. Simulated blood proved equally controversial and Arnulf Rainer's crucified teddy bear provoked demonstrations by local teddy bear societies. Specially programmed to mark this Bicentennial exhibition, a Japanese art and performance festival, Close Up of Japan, was presented in Australia for the first time. It featured traditional drummers, butoh dancers and the Suzuki Company of Toga, as well as an enormous outdoor installation by Imai. The 1988 event brought one hundred and twenty seven artists from fifteen countries together in an exhibition whose works spanned nearly fifty years. In the eighth Biennale in 1990, René Block demonstrated the distinctive historical connections of the 'readymade' as it spirals conceptually through twentieth century art. 'Art is Easy' was splashed across the cover of the catalogue, a deceptive statement given the complexity and subtlety of Block's curatorial concept. Titled The Readymade Boomerang, the exhibition centred on three key figures at the start of the century, Duchamp, Man Ray and Picabia, and the distinctive historical connections with their work throughout the century. Artists of the sixties such as Warhol, Hamilton, Beuys and Cage, and conceptual artists such as On Kawara, Manzoni and Nauman were positioned surrounding these three. Artists of the seventies and eighties such as Koons, Gober, Mucha and Polke formed a second circle. This configuration revealed a mainstream of aesthetic innovation based around the idea of the readymade. The 1990 Biennale spilled into a new and immense venue, the Bond Store, where site specific works by artists like Olaf Metzel and Simone Mangos were created. The exhibition was also marked by performances and special events including pianist Carlos Santos, who played as his piano was pulled on a barge under the Sydney Harbour Bridge. In all one hundred and forty-eight artists from twenty-eight countries participated. Due to the strength of its art historical references this Biennale had a particular resonance for artists and educators. The 1992/3 Biennale reflected a shift away from Europe and the USA, and over ninety per cent of the artists chosen by Anthony Bond had not been exhibited before in Australia. Titled The Boundary Rider, its theme explored conceptual and cultural boundaries. It examined their transgression through the work of such controversial artists as Orlan, whose surgical manipulation of her own body captured the imagination of both the public and the media. This was an expansive international event with some thirty-six countries participating, many not traditionally included in previous Sydney Biennales, such as Benin, Cameroon, Haiti, Ghana and South Africa. An extensive lecture, film and public program marked this Biennale, and a special course on contemporary art was offered to broaden audience awareness, as well as intensify debate. In addition to the traditional venues of the Art Gallery of New South Wales and others such as the Ivan Dougherty Gallery, which housed an overwhelming painting installation by Igor Kopystiansky, the Bond Store once again provided a dramatic location for installations and site specific works. These included the Border Art Workshop, a group based around the US/Mexico border, who worked in the outer suburbs of Sydney with young, disenfranchised, immigrant communities, in ways that changed the lives of some of the young participants. This interaction with the local community and its legacy are emblematic of many Biennale exhibitions and programs, which expose people to new ideas and experiences. Perhaps more than anything else the Biennale's real strength has been to act as a catalyst. The tenth Biennale in 1996 was the most tightly focused and smallest held. Titled Jurassic Technologies Revenant, it featured forty-eight artists from twenty four countries. Lynne Cooke's exhibition reappraised older reproductive technologies including photography, video, film and print media. It compared artists' various uses of technology to comment on the world, and revealed how some issues transcend generational, gender, ethnic and national boundaries. Themes which ran through the exhibition included identity, memory versus history, the fantastic and the Gothic. The section of the exhibition presented at Artspace is remembered for a number of powerful works including a large Franz West installation. In 1996 satellite exhibitions and programs were hosted in Sydney as well as Canberra and Melbourne, and a dynamic nationwide outreach program for the visiting artists and curators took the art and artists, as well as the current debate about contemporary art, to many cities and regional centres. The Biennale of Sydney outreach program, which began in the first decade of the exhibition, has consistently fulfilled one of the longstanding aims of the organisation, that is to increase dialogue, interest and participation in the visual arts and to foster new relationships and professional networks. Jonathan Watkins' 1998 exhibition, every day, was one of the largest and most expansive Biennales in recent years. It exhibited one hundred and one artists in ten venues. The Museum of Contemporary Art participated for the first time, showing interactive works like Ann Veronica Janssens' fog room and Patrick Killoran's observation deck which allowed people to lie down on a sliding platform with their heads outside the third floor window. Martin Creed's balloons filled an entire house on Goat Island, a new location reached only by a special Biennale ferry. Other heritage architecture on Goat Island housed work by artists such as David Cunningham, whose interactive sound installation transformed the old powder magazine. Pier 2/3 exhibited large scale works by artists including Thomas Struth, Ernesto Neto and Beat Streuli as well as Perry Roberts' enormous outdoor painting, which could be viewed from the Biennale ferry against the Sydney skyline. The 1998 exhibition was distinguished by a large outdoor component of site specific work which transformed the city's parks and gardens. Particularly memorable and controversial were Tadashi Kawamata's corrugated garden sheds which were scattered throughout the Royal Botanic Gardens. Gereon Lepper's floating and submerging discs, located in one of the Gardens' ponds, became as amusing to the local birds as they were to visitors. Rasheed Araeen created an enormous pyramid sculpture constructed of industrial scaffolding which was set in the lush gardens of Government House. The theme of the eleventh exhibition explored the simpler materials of everday life and showed how artists from many different cultures draw inspiration from the domestic and everyday environment. Simpler processes and materials, the small repetitive gestures of everyday life, the passage of time and the integration of art and life were sub themes. As we look back over a quarter century of intense activity a few things emerge clearly. Since 1973 eleven Biennale of Sydney exhibitions have been presented and more than 1000 artists from some sixty countries have participated. Most of the artists were brought to Australia by the Biennale, which also facilitated their travel and coordinated their professional engagements in many art schools and universities across Australia. From the beginning the Biennale has acted as a catalyst for cultural development and discussion. It has created unique opportunities for direct contact between foreign artists, writers, and curators - as well as collectors and dealers - with their counterparts in Australia. This outreach program has involved hundreds of educational and cultural institutions over the past quarter century and invigorated artists, students and educators alike. Over the years many important works imported for exhibition in the Biennale have remained in the permanent collections of state galleries and art museums. A listing of only a few examples more than illustrates the point. Fujiko Nakaya's fog sculpture (1976 Biennale) was acquired by the National Gallery of Australia. Works by Rebecca Horn and Miriam Schapiro (1982 Biennale) were acquired by the Art Gallery of New South Wales. From the 1984 exhibition a massive canvas by Jorg Immendorf entered the collection of the Museum of Contemporary Art, along with photographic works by Cindy Sherman. Enormous works by Jannis Kounellis and Richard Deacon (1988 Biennale) and works by Haim Steinbach, Gerhard Richter, Perejaume and Svetlana Kopystiansky (1992/93 Biennale) were all acquired for the Art Gallery of New South Wales. For two decades the Biennale of Sydney's regular importation of works of art by major artists has offered rare collecting opportunities to many public institutions across Australia. Works of substantial scale by artists of international renown, which would otherwise have remained out of the reach of local collections, became accessible. The cumulative impact on the holdings in public collections, though probably little known, is another example of the Biennale of Sydney's enduring contribution to Australian art and culture. The Biennale of Sydney 2000 was a citywide event encompassing six venues and including a number of affiliated exhibitions and satellite events throughout the greater Sydney area. Unlike previous Biennales, an International Selection Committee comprised of internationally distinguished directors and curators and chaired by Nick Waterlow, selected the artists for the 2000 exhibition. The International Panel included: Fumio Nanjo (Tokyo), Louise Neri (New York), Hetti Perkins (Sydney), Sir Nicholas Serota (London), Robert Storr (New York) and Harald Szeemann (Zurich). The concept of the show revolved around a tight selection of 48 artists from 23 countries, whose work and ideas had made a significant impact and endured the test of time. Artists such as Louise Bourgeois, Bruce Nauman, Yayoi Kusama and Gerhard Richter were shown in-depth or represented by signature works. Yoko OnoŐs one hundred coffins with live trees and Cai Guo-QiangŐs ten-day performance with a live horse and nude model transformed the Art Gallery of New South Wales. The Museum of Contemporary Art devoted all of its four floors to the Biennale exhibition. Free admission opened the doors to the whole community and helped break attendance records with over 250, 000 attending. In addition to the exhibition, the Biennale of Sydney has left a tangible legacy in public collections. Over the years significant works imported for exhibition in the Biennale of Sydney have remained in the permanent collections of state galleries and art museums. For two decades the Biennale of Sydney's regular importation of works of art by major artists offered rare collecting opportunities to many public institutions across Australia. The Biennale of Sydney's enduring contribution to Australian art and culture can be seen everyday in public collections across the nation. Since 1973 twelve Biennale of Sydney exhibitions have been presented and more than 1000 artists from some sixty countries have participated, with almost two hundred of these being Australian. Most of the foreign artists have been brought to Australia by the Biennale, which has also facilitated their travel and coordinated their professional engagements in many art schools and universities across Australia, as part of the Biennale Outreach Program. From its inception the Biennale of Sydney has acted as a catalyst for cultural development and discussion, and its public and education program remained committed to broadening the audience for contemporary art and bringing new experiences and understanding to the community. The following texts are based on my interviews with the artistic directors of the past eleven exhibitions. I have had the pleasure and the challenge of working alongside many of them during my involvement in six Biennale exhibitions. The interviews provide insight into their curatorial thinking, and how the concept for each Biennale developed. Some reminiscences and descriptions of memorable artists and events as well as the political environment of the time are quite extraordinary. 1973 The Biennale of Sydney November - December Franco Belgiorno-Nettis AC CBE Founding Governor Since 1973, and for more than a quarter century, the Biennale of Sydney has been an event of great importance for contemporary art in Australia. Over the years it has contributed to changing audience attitudes, influencing art, fashion, design, and contemporary culture. There is a new maturity making Australia part of the globalisation process in a much wider context. I am an engineer. Transfield is a company with an Italian connection, engaged in all aspects of construction. From a local competition - the Transfield Art Prize early in the 60s - the Biennale has grown to become one of the great festivals that contribute to the quality of life we enjoy every day. My love affair with Venice, where I have been a frequent visitor for years, is the source of inspiration for the Biennale. How do you break the isolation of Australia, which I felt strongly myself in the early 50s? How do you inject that flavour of international extravaganza, originality and explosive vision that you see at gatherings in Venice, in the Giardini, in the Corderia, in the Arsenale, with their centuries of tradition? With the concept of an event such as the Biennale in a city so vibrant, so eclectic and now so multicultural as this great city, the city of Sydney. Italy was very much alive in the early 1970s - there were many parts to the Venice Biennale, not only the avant-garde in art but also in furniture and design. Such an event was exactly what Australia needed, a link to the world. To break the tyranny of distance, Australia needed some sort of connection. I felt it was important do something about opening up Australia and that is why I felt a Sydney Biennale could follow on the example of Venice. That was my great inspiration. You have to start somewhere - and so I began with the Transfield Art Prize for contemporary Australian art which had already played an important role in the 60s. I now made it into an international event, making Sydney part of the avant- garde art movement which so much influenced our life. I had the chance of meeting young artists in that period - prolific, rebellious artists - and I was intrigued by their originality. I saw the possibility of a dialogue to open the door to a much wider audience. The artists of many countries became ambassadors in a two-way traffic between distant and far away places. The first Biennale of Sydney started with a modest trial at the Sydney Opera House, in the Exhibition Hall, and already then we had artists not only from Europe and America but a large representation from the closer area of South East Asia. It is often said that Australia is part of Asia but the distance was much greater then. Thinking back on the first Biennale with which I was closely involved, there were about 37 artists and, without really planning it, a link with Asia was established. Over half the countries represented in the 1973 Biennale were Asian countries, including Japan, Thailand and the Philippines. The second Biennale, three years later in 1976, also focused on the Asia-Pacific region. In this respect, in forging new links, we were ahead of our time and I think we really opened new ways of seeing Australia. I see the first Biennale with nostalgia - the poster of John Coburn on the first catalogue and the presence of the Prime Minister, Gough Whitlam, with his wife Margaret on the opening night. "Yes", he said, "this is another first - the first Biennale of Sydney". We opened the gate for a new chapter in the history of art in this country, as we do with every new Biennale - so many nations, so many artists from distant lands, critics, visitors, all breaking the distance of these shores, forging new ties and bringing Australia closer to the rest of the world. This is a great continent with few inhabitants and one of the oldest civilisations, and now Aboriginal art is exported and well known outside Australia. Aboriginal art has been a powerful presence in our Biennales and some very important pieces were seen for the first time in our exhibitions. In 1982 the largest indoor sand painting ever created covered the floor of one entire gallery at the Art Gallery of New South Wales. And in the Bicentennial Biennale in 1988 we brought together 200 burial posts, the Aboriginal Memorial, a moving tribute and the highlight of the Biennale at Pier 2/3. Many people ask how a company that is involved in civil engineering came to link itself to contemporary art. But the fact is, as an engineer with a keen interest in science, I have always seen a clear link between science and art. They may appear on opposite sides of the fence, but they are very much a continuum. One of the world's greatest inspirations is Leonardo, a man of unlimited versatility. He was a great scientist and a great artist. Leonardo is at the apex of human endeavour and represents the best of human genius, art and design, engineering and construction. I like to believe that the Biennale of Sydney, like every biennale in the world, links all these elements, introducing innovative technology and communication, as well as new ways of seeing the world. Engineering is science and art is also engineering. There is no doubt in my mind, when I talk about invention and inventors, that the greatest progress has been in engineering. Today our standard of living - and I include in this communication, exploration and technology - reflects the inventiveness of engineering. But in all aspects of human creativity the artist is the greatest wellspring. Therefore, we should give artists the maximum chance and latitude to express their ideas. This is for me the heart of every biennale. Art has no boundary and we should not put up fences. The Biennale of Sydney should always open the gates to newcomers, to the experimental and to innovative technologies. Originality remains the distinctive power of the human race. Participating artists - 1973 Affandi, David Aspden, George Baldessin, Sydney Ball, John Brack, Robert Brown, Gunter Christmann, Kevin Connor, Fred Cress, Biren De, John Firth Smith, Renato Guttuso, Patrick Heron, John Hopkins, Bob Jenyns, Roger Kemp, Robert Klippel, Colin McCahon, Ian McKay, Clive Murray-White, John Olsen, Park Suk Won, Antonio Pelaez, Peter Powditch, Ron Robertson Swann, Solomon Saprid, Rollin Schlicht, Emil Schumacher, Clyfford Still, William Sutton, Minami Tada, Joseph Tan, Sawasdi Tantisuk, Dick Watkins, Fred Williams, David Wilson 1976 Recent International Forms in Art 13 November - 19 December Thomas G. McCullough Artistic Director When I was invited to do the 1976 Biennale exhibition it was an opportunity to get away from the earlier emphasis on painting. The first Biennale had taken place at the Opera House three years before and the Board wanted the 1976 exhibition to be a curated exhibition and to happen in the state art gallery. I was known for the innovative Mildura Sculpture Triennials of the 1970s, so in this sense the theme was already set. There was an expectation of a shift away from formalist object-sculptures, because the Mildura events had already moved well away from the formal, romantic works of the 1960s. Artists who were extending three-dimensional ideas beyond the pedestal into installations, earth-works and performance art were regularly showing in Mildura by the 1975 Triennial, and I consulted them on new concepts, contacts and ideas for the upcoming Biennale. In 1976 I visited only two countries while preparing for the Biennale, as we didn't have much money. I was only allowed two weeks overseas so I decided to focus on a Pacific triangle (the first Biennale had quite an emphasis on Asia). New Zealand, California and Japan were selected for their ambience of experimentation that would suit Australian attitudes to sculpture and art generally. One of the pieces that still resonates over 20 years later is Fujiko Nakaya's Fog Sculpture which was installed in the Domain (and later acquired by the National Gallery in Canberra). I found Fujiko a most engaging person and a very thorough planner. The fog sculpture was a difficult proposal with great engineering requirements. High-pressure water was pumped through very, very fine nozzles to create mist. The hydraulic problems were tremendous as Sydney water required metal gauze filters that would not break up (we couldn't use paper filters because of the water pressure). This piece took a great deal of planning and expertise, yet it was such a simple concept - water pumped through pipes in a park. It was a pivotal concept and questioned the whole idea of sculpture being a set, static form. Fog Sculpture was kinetic; it changed form. It was temporal; it only happened for a certain length of time. And it was attractive to the public as well as to other artists! This was noticeable when a non-exhibitor, Ellis D Fog (a psychedelic nom-de-plume), put on a light show at night playing colours through Fujiko's sculpture, using laser beams - possibly for the first time in the visual arts. We also had a representation of Joseph Beuys' work in the 1976 exhibition (for the first time in Australia). Beuys' attitude to art was liberating; that everybody is capable of being an artist ... that one lives art ... that even speaking can be a form of sculpture. Art is not just for dealers, connoisseurs and curators, but must touch the people as a whole. His idea of breaking those barriers down was a very central one in the 1970s. Many other artists incorporated this socio-political aspect too - for instance, the British artist Stuart Brisley. He worked with very accessible, common materials - pine framing, a saw, hammer and nails - and he built this fantastic-looking cage in nearby Hyde Park. He tapped and hammered and sawed. Everybody loves to watch somebody working. But all the time he was talking to passers-by who became increasingly curious. So his wooden structure was not an end in itself: it was the performance ... the making of sculpture. Stuart had already worked in English mining towns and involved ordinary, working class people in the art-making process. In Sydney he 'educated' office workers coming down for their lunch ... he even slept inside his sculpture at night. You have to be a little bit mad to do things like that. There were drunks around, and times when he was threatened, but he stuck it out. The day Stuart eventually caged himself in completely, people still brought him food but talked less to him, and aggression appeared - though there was great sympathy for him among some. Why would an artist do this? It raised the question: what is art about and why do people do it? Then at the nominated hour we all went down to see him break out of the cage. After nailing himself into the metaphorical 'art corner' he then broke free and stood up on top of his shattered cage as a throng of people cheered. It was a great, glorious moment in that Biennale. As an avid photographer of sculpture I visited Stuart often and took a lot of photographs. Some of that documentation was very pleasing and I have since donated all my slides and papers to the La Trobe Library, Melbourne. Going back 25 years, my main criticism of the 1976 Biennale of Sydney is the lack of documentation. I didn't have many essays published or artists' statements printed in the catalogue which I'm looking at now ... it even smells awful! Unfortunately I did what I thought was pretty groovy in 1976, using one-colour ink on a cheap cardboard cover and spirex-bound pages of brown paper inside. I felt it was more in keeping with the arte povera spirit of the exhibition, but it meant that all of the illustrations are a dull monochrome, printed on cheap, sepia paper. I did a great dis-service to the 1976 Biennale by not putting together a big, glossy book on the exhibition (even though I really did not have the time, money or resources to do so). The exhibition deserved commemorating, the artists deserved better representation, but at the time this poor publication seemed adequate and it saved a lot of money. Of course in those days, there were no computers; I had to have eighty individual biographies manually typed out, catalogue pages separately typeset and there was also endless proof-reading at each stage. If only we could have e-mailed the artists around the world instead of putting letters in the mail and waiting for replies. Months and months often went past in silence - Italy seemed to go up in smoke at one stage and it was very difficult contacting Europe, apart from Germany. The British and Americans were fast, the Japanese were great, and the New Zealanders were falling over themselves to get into the exhibition, making it seem good fun. The trouble with the Europeans began because of the lack of communication, so it seems ironic that the next Biennale was called European Dialogue! Thinking about changing attitudes, themes and the presentation of contemporary art, I have just one other broad observation. I felt that the 1976 Biennale was a great apex of achievement for those visual artists who were not painters. Leaving Mildura after the 1978 Sculpture Triennial, I went on to do the first Australian Sculpture Triennial in Melbourne in 1981, so it really looked as though sculpture was going to continue receiving the attention it deserved into the 1980s. However, subsequent Biennales were differently selected and both of those Sculpture Triennials were eventually abandoned, so the swing back to the usual interest in two-dimensional artforms was obvious. I would like to see a built-in guarantee that there is a fair slab of every Biennale that deals with other aspects of the visual arts than painting and drawing. Other important surveys also should take this oversight into account if they use 'art' in their title. When I think further about the relevance today of the Biennales, there are a number of interesting points. First, even back in 1976, we were trying to address the idea of people going to art in galleries, etc. Getting art to people via the postal service was one of the exhibits that Terry Reid presented in his Art In The Mail project. He was posting stuff all over the place from Sydney, like the movement originating in Europe called 'Fluxus' where art-in-the-mail suggested an alternative to mounting complicated art exhibitions. The concept was that ideas could be put down on a postcard or into a letter. Now that's an appropriate tool for a certain kind of art and certain ideas work well that way - and the same applies to the electronic media of the 2000s. They're just other palettes for the creative mind to use. As a museum man I believe that 'the original' needs to be shown, and needs to be interpreted. The problem with e-mail and the web - and I love them for their convenience - is that you're experiencing them effectively on your own. That's an advantage of the new communications, but that's also their problem. I'm a great believer in festivals and live activities, and the Biennale is like an international meeting place or living conference of artists and critics. Every time you bring people together a new chemistry comes into being ... the activity changes in itself making the whole greater than the sum of the individual parts. Twenty-five years ago the Art Gallery of New South Wales was a different place to what it is today. In the mid-1970s it also had very exciting curators working there: Daniel Thomas, Frances McCarthy, Bernice Murphy and Robert Lindsay. They were talented individuals but I think their employers placed too much emphasis on traditional things like the Archibald Prize to give them the scope to experiment. On the other hand, I was appointed as a youngish 'Guest Director' in his 39th year, and felt very much like a country hick from Mildura. But I had a concept for that old building coming to life with international forms of art that would go beyond the walls of the Art Gallery and into Hyde Park and the Domain for the first time ever. I had these little drawings for illustrating my talks with the AGNSW Trustees, when I needed to persuade them that there weren't going to be blocks of stone just sitting around. There would be 'happenings' for the people, and performance artists would do extraordinary things that would attract the great international arts audience … I also needed to involve their curators as much as possible because I had virtually no staff. It was Tom McCullough, full stop, for most of 1976 and one really had to get on with the professional staff of the gallery. Luckily, my colleague Peter Laverty, who was their director, was quite happy to step back quietly - he did not interfere one bit throughout the whole exhibition and I was able to build great bridges with the staff and designate areas in which to install specific works that I believed related to each other. The AGNSW curators then got in touch with the artists I nominated to present work, and they jointly organised the final installations according to my overall plans. Really, this laid foundations for the ongoing Biennale project, which began virtually in 1976, as far as the Art Gallery of New South Wales is concerned. One memorable moment in 1976 wasn't about the art at all: it was the Official Opening, which triggered the artists' walkout. Gough Whitlam, a Prime Minister we all loved, had opened the first Biennale in 1973. The political scene had changed dramatically since the 'coup' took place on the 11th of November, 1975. Gough's Labor Government with its generosity towards the Visual Arts Board (which was one of the Biennale's sponsors) fell, and Malcolm Fraser's conservatives took over Australia … These were fiery times. Artists felt very strongly about politics and the dismissal of the Whitlam Government. It split some families, but the 1976 Biennale of Sydney itself went off like a rocket and shook the art world. It caused great divisions and certain people never forgave me for putting together an exhibition called Recent International Forms In Art. The formalists somehow assumed that the word 'sculpture' was being tampered with and that "this performance stuff really isn't art and it certainly isn't sculpture". It caused a great schism and I guess by the end of the 70s you were in either of two camps: the formalists (aligned with the conservative English school and Anthony Caro's followers) and the other camp which some sculptors referred to as 'the lunatic fringe'. The strange thing is that the lunatic fringe didn't die out or get lost. Performance and video, for instance, are very much part of the whole art scene today. Contemporary art has not changed all that much, I suppose, and certainly not nearly as much as it changed in the 25 years before 1976. I thought the decade of the 70s in Australia was really very revolutionary. I thought that we were on a wave of invention and if you look at the 50s and the 60s, they bear almost no relation to the 70s. There are lots of things happening now that I see simply as 'swings and roundabouts' ... the post-modernist attitude of recycling or re-inventing, rather than inventing. At that time things were ripe for experimentation and the great works of 1976 were ground-breaking. Think of an artist like Stelarc. When I went to Tokyo and first met this friendly, helpful Greek-Australian he was working in Japan because they wouldn't let him legally investigate his own body in Australia. The Biennale photographs of his Suspension still make my blood run cold. Later he came to Melbourne quietly, and I saw him actually suspend himself in an old lift-shaft, using only his skin for supporting points for small hooks. I then realised how transforming and cathartic his work could be. One of the sad things about revisiting the 1976 Biennale is to remember some of the artists who are my age (some are now dead) and to think of how rich that whole 70's era was. The affection which I felt for lots of those artists is still very real to me, and I like to visit a few of them - Marr Grounds for instance, who made an instructive and amusing Art Bit Installation under some stairs inside the Art Gallery of New South Wales. How the hell he talked the guards into letting him bring his dog into the building each day is still a mystery! I think that most artists are very valuable members of their society. They're ordinary people basically, but I do believe there is occasionally magic in what they can achieve. The truly creative artist helps less gifted people, like myself, to learn more about everything in life, and even a little about the future as well. Participating artists - 1976 William Robert Allen, Giovanni Anselmo, Ant Farm, John Armstrong, Robert Arneson, Lynda Benglis, Joseph Beuys, Stuart Brisley, Tony Coleing, Gianni Colombo, Michael Craig-Martin, Marleen Creaser, John Davis, Agnes Denes, Mark Di Suvero, Jan Dibbets, Koji Enokura, Robert Grosvenor, Marr Grounds, Nigel Hall, Noriyuki Haraguchi, Julian Hawkes, Noel Hutchison, Tony Ingram, Robert Janz, Tatsuo Kawaguchi, Robert Kinmont, Gloria Kisch, Les Kossatz, Kyubei Kiyomizu, Lee Kang-So, Lee U-Fan, John Lethbridge, Les Levine, Loren Madsen, Yutaka Matsuzawa, Michael McMillen, James Melchert, Shigeo Miura, Maurizio Mochetti, Kevin Mortensen, Clive Murray-White, Tsuneo Nakai, Natsuyuki Nakanishi, Fujiko Nakaya, Manuel Neri, Michael Nicholson, Minoru Nishiki, Bernard Pages, Ti Parks, Philip Pasquini, Jonh Penny, Guiseppi Penone, Carl Plackman, James Pomeroy, Terry Powell, Insik Quac, Terry Reid, Jock Reynolds, Ron Robertson Swann, Fred Sandback, Joel Shapiro, Noel Sheridan, Shim Moon-Seup, Morio Shinoda, Robert Smithson, Stelarc, John Sturgeon, Kishio Suga, Noburu Takayama, Kakuzo Tatehata, Kenji Togami, David Troostwyk, William Tucker, Greer Twiss, Ken Unsworth, William Wiley, David Wilson, Elyn Zimmerman, Gilberto Zorio 1979 European Dialogue 12 April - 27 May Nick Waterlow Artistic Director The concept and themes of the 1979 exhibition evolved from the range of new work that was coming out of Europe, that hadn't been seen in Australia, which I knew about before moving to Australia in 1977. There had also been a couple of major American exhibitions here so there existed more of a need to show the European avant-garde in relation to Australia. The exhibition did bring a lot of post-object work that hadn't been seen before as well as artists like Marcel Broodthaers, Gerhard Richter, Hanne Darboven, Mario Merz, A R Penck, Valie Export, Daniel Buren and Armand Arman. There was also some terrific performance work from Marina Abramovic and Ulay, Jürgen Klauke, Ulrike Rosenbach and others. The 1979 Biennale caused quite a stir and it made people sit up; there were even demonstrations. Contemporary art became a very hot item. There were great expectations then, because not much work from the rest of the world was seen in Australia, and the anticipation was extraordinary. But in 1979, the feminist movement and the Left united and they wanted greater Australian representation, and in particular more women in the exhibition ... 50% Australian representation and 50% female representation. I had to walk a tightrope, and they were a very persuasive bunch. In the end there was a very sizeable Australian representation, but it was not possible in the whole Biennale to include as many women as men. The Australian representation however did achieve this and I remember very well the impact. One work for example, Feathered Fence by Rosalie Gascoigne, epitomised for the visiting Europeans the psyche of the Australian landscape and it helped them understand it more effectively. There were people, however, who didn't see it as purely educational. The exhibition became very controversial. Over time the 1979 Biennale has been an extraordinary catalyst. For instance the struggle surrounding it accelerated the formation of the Artworkers Union, an organisation for artworkers intent on protecting artists' rights. Many critics visited Australia for the first time, Giancarlo Politi and Helena Kontova for instance, which resulted in much coverage over the years in Flash Art. The controversy surrounding the exhibition reached the whole art community and really got people discussing future needs. Partly as a result of all this, a year later in 1980 the first national survey of recent Australian art, Perspecta, took place. There were many memorable moments in that 1979 exhibition and, for me, many projects have stood the test of time. It included Aboriginal artists, which was the first time they had been shown in an international contemporary context. Mario Merz was unforgettable, in every way. When he arrived in Sydney the first thing he wanted was a python for his work, so we had to dissuade him from that. There are many hilarious stories of Mario: when he was in Melbourne he was taken to a theatre-restaurant and he got up on the stage and had the audience in convulsions; he mimicked the actors who didn't know how to handle it at all. In Sydney he created an extraordinary piece, Objet cache toi, that dominated the whole of the entrance court of the Art Gallery of New South Wales. There was also Tadeusz Kantor, a remarkable Polish artist and dramatist, who ran the Cricot Theatre, some of whose sculptural work was also part of his theatrical piece The Dead Class. Other highlights included Daniel Buren, who had never been to this country before; Marina Abramovic and Ulay and their remarkable performance work, and a film loop with them both naked - Ulay with an erection; provocative performance pieces by Jürgen Klauke and Ulrike Rosenbach; paintings by Stephen Buckley, Louis Cane, Howard Hodgkin, Laszlo Lakner and Gerhard Richter; and terrific work by Mike Parr, Peter Kennedy, Tom Arthur and Rosalie Gascoigne, among others. Another very particular piece was that by Nikolaus Lang, which combined Aboriginal ochres from South Australia with European pigments - literally a bringing together of two cultures, a real dialogue. This work is now in the collection of the National Gallery of Australia. Casting my mind back over the eleven exhibitions over twenty five years - three of which I did - I can say that each Biennale has been a particular and different achievement. Joseph Beuys, for example, appeared for the first time in Australia in Tom McCullough's Biennale in 1976 with that wonderful piece Eurasia, the work with the dead hare. And the first major showing for Anselm Kiefer was in a Sydney Biennale. Bill Wright's Biennale in 1982 introduced people to extraordinary Aboriginal sand painting for the first time. Since 1979 the themes, attitudes and presentation of contemporary art have changed greatly. One of the factors, of course, has been the development of technology and many exhibitions of contemporary art around the world now include electronic and digitally manipulated work. The resulting experience is quite different. But strong painting continues to be created and performance has been an extraordinarily energetic element in the history of the Biennale, and it still flourishes. In the early years of the Biennale, artists were very concerned with certain social and political issues but that's changed a bit too. The post-modernist movement and the appropriation of existing images changed the focus of many artists, but now the modernist/ post-modernist nexus has broken open again. In spite of the amount of travel, electronic communication of images and information transfer that is so much part of today's world, I still think the important thing about these events is the way the art world is brought together. It is the experience of sharing that people from all over the world want. The Venice Biennale is such a beautiful place to meet, as indeed is Sydney. There is also always work that wouldn't come to the fore if it wasn't for this or that particular event. In 1999 in Venice, for example, it was the work of Doug Aitken. It is also important to be able to see the work of artists from countries you don't hear that much about. Now that there is a proliferation of biennales, it is crucial to consider what another Biennale of Sydney can offer: how will it be different to others? You need to keep ahead of the game and be very clear-headed. At some point one could focus on performance or on painting, or one could look at using artists as curators. You need to be constantly inventive and not work in the same old way. Biennales have a place, but directors and organisers need to be aware of what's happening in the entire field. It's essential to ensure an event like the Sydney Biennale retains its pre-eminence and that it makes people want to visit Sydney which, after all, is an extraordinary location. It is very important that it continues as there is still relatively little opportunity to see recent work from the rest of the world regularly in Australia. Another necessary thing about this event is that it grows out of Australian soil. There must also always be a significant range of indigenous Australian work in it. Rather than creating an exhibition that might have been put together from any other part of the world, I think people coming to Australia expect to see work that they wouldn't otherwise be confronted by; it also gives artists and the Australian public the chance to see the culture of their own country in a broader context. The Biennale of Sydney is distinct in many ways from similar events around the world. For a start, the use of Pier 2/3 as a venue has given it a very close relationship with the harbour setting. It is also the event responsible for showing Aboriginal art for the first time in a contemporary international context. Many parts of the world still experience relatively little art from Australia and other parts of Asia, so it is essential that Australia corrects the imbalance. It is fair to say that the Biennale of Sydney has helped with this and it has created memorable exhibitions that have uniquely showcased artists from this part of the world with their international peers. Participating artists - 1979 Marina Abramovic & Ulay, Hermann Albert, Pierre Alechinsky, Carlo Alfano, Gisela Andersch, Armand P. Arman, Eduardo Arroyo, W. Thomas Arthur, Joannis Avramidis, Bruce Barber, Gianfranco Baruchello, Bernd & Hilla Becher, Laszlo Beke, Joseph Beuys, Olive Bishop, Christian Boltanski, Peter Booth, Bernard Borgeaud, Mark Boyle, George Brecht, Marcel Broodthaers, Stanley Brouwn, Anatol Brusilowsky, Stephen Buckley, Bungawuy, Daniel Buren, Victor Burgin, Tim Burns, Louis Cane, Barbara Chase-Riboud, Eduardo Chillida, Virginia Coventry, Philip Dadson, Aleksander Danko, Hanne Darboven, John Davies, Janet Dawson, Jan Dibbets, Braco Dimitrijevic, Rita Donagh, Richard Dunn, Valie Export, Hamish Fulton, Wolfgang Gäfgen, Rosalie Gascoigne, Jochen Gerz, Paul Armand Gette, Raimund Girke, Zbigniew Gostomski, Elizabeth Gower, Gotthard Graubner, Alan Green, Joan Grounds, Hetum Gruber, Sigurdur Gudmundsson, Renato Guttuso, Erich Hauser, Tim Head, David Hockney, Howard Hodgkin, Alfred Hofkunst, Rudolph Hoflehner, Horst Janssen, Tadeusz Kantor, Peter Kennedy, Michael Kenny, Ronald B Kitaj, Jurgen Klauke, Jiri Kolár, Laszlo Lakner, Nikolaus Lang, Maria Lassnig, Jean Le Gac, Alun Leach-Jones, Kerrie Lester, Bernhard Luginbühl, Urs Luthi, Heinz Mack, Robert MacPherson, Bea Maddock, Malangi, Kenneth Martin, Mario Merz, Annette Messager, Henri Michaux, Milpurrurr, Bernard Moninot, Marcello Morandini, Francois Morellet, Ugo Mulas, Ann Newmarch, Hermann Nitsch, John Nixon, Robert Owen, Panamarenko, Giulio Paolini, Mike Parr, A. R. Penck, Wolfgang Petrick, Anne and Patrick Poirier, Arnulf Rainer, Martial Raysse, Gerhard Richter, Bridget Riley, Klaus Rinke, Ulrike Rosenbach, Dieter Roth, Leszek Rózga, Antonio Saura, Sam Schoenbaum, Jan J Schoonhoven, Bernard Schultze, Ursula Schultze-Bluhm, Helmut Schweizer, Daniel Spoerri, Antoni Starczewski, Madonna Staunton, Feliks Szyszko, Antoni Tapies, Sandra Taylor, André Thomkins, Imants Tillers, Jean Tinguely, Gérard Titus-Carmel, Günther Uecker, Ger van Elk, Ben Vautier, Carel Visser, Klaus Vogelgesang, Krzysztof Wodiczko, Zoran Music, Alberto Porta Zush 1982 Vision in Disbelief 7 April - 23 May William Wright Artistic Director Earlier this year I was interviewed by Paula Latos-Valier. We spent a little over two hours in an enjoyable ramble across the craggy terrain of the 4th Biennale, its successes and failings, and what follows is a liberal encapsulation of my responses to my own and Paula's reminiscences and questions. My involvement with the Biennale of Sydney was unexpected and of unexpected duration. It began in 1980 when I accepted the directorship and continued well beyond this when, immediately following, I became a member of the Biennale Board of Directors - a position I held in varying capacities for the next seventeen years. It all began in mid-1980. I had just returned home to East 20th Street in Manhattan from the State University of New York at Purchase, entering the city as usual via the whispering arch at Grand Central with a requisite readjustive stopover at its renowned oyster bar: a dozen bluepoints apiece and a bottle of best white (co-enjoyed by Hilarie Mais, my then as now companion). Upon arrival at our 8th floor loft I was greeted by a pile of mail including an alarming number of telegrams: four, each from a different member of the Biennale Board and each inviting me to consider returning to Australia to take up the directorship of the next Biennale. I was bemused as to the motivation behind this mysterious collective invitation, especially so given that, while known for my exploits in the art educational sphere, I had up to that time only organised exhibitions of incommensurably small scale and scope as part of my various college programmes. However all became apparent when later the same evening I received a phone call from my old friend, the artist Robert Owen, who was - requisite in those days - an artist member of the Board and who, it emerged, had been the instigator. His arguments as to my suitability to undertake the onerous task were detailed and persuasive and upon reflection I became increasingly convinced that the project would relate cogently to the focus of my interests in contemporary art practice; the prospect of a period of extensive revision and research into the emerging visual arts also engaged my imagination. Australia Council had provided a grant enabling me to spend time in Europe on my way back to Sydney, and I used this as a lead-in to Biennale selection, making and renewing contact with European artists and curators, as in similar consultation I had spent the months prior to leaving New York. It was a process of informing, updating and cross-referencing, a kind of no stone unturned mosaic approach precursive to determining the event's form and spheres of content. As then, I still regard the Biennale as being central in a greater sphere of informational and educational enrichment, for creative development as much as informing the population at large. It follows, if it is to enmesh with local perception and imagination, that it should, as in most biennales, include adequate representation from the host culture. From the outset I had favoured the notion of an inclusive, of necessity large biennale, one that would meaningfully contextualise a plurality of diverse creative forms in a way that would engage the creative attention of Australian artists, students and public alike. I had not lived in Australia for over twenty-two years but had kept in touch, making numerous visits linked to educational programs and exchanges for Australian artists and students I had initiated and run during the two previous decades. But while my knowledge of Australian art infrastructure was extensive, my awareness of current developments and issues was fragmentary. Given the intention to represent Australian art as a focal component of the 4th Biennale, I engaged in a program of research and travel immediately upon my return, to familiarise myself with the state of activity in the various regions around Australia. I was naturally more aware of the art of the northern hemisphere than Australia at the time and my desire was to compose a biennale that would encompass a wide range of current practice and interconnections between various visual and aural modalities; innovation in both new and reinvested fields of application. The thing that gave me the most gratification was the way the Biennale 82 intersected with and enriched the diverse terrain of art practice in Australia. It is difficult to talk of individual works that stand out retrospectively from the vantage of eighteen years hence but I might nominate the large earth painting/performance work of the Walpiri group (Lajamanu) in the central void at The Art Gallery of New South Wales. Beside its sheer mesmeric presence it had the effect of interposing the dimension of cultural time, with an impact on the many artists who came from other countries; the experience of exhibiting alongside tribally integrated artists of such deep and extensive cultural memory was profound. Others which come to mind are Mary Kelly's Post Partum Document, John Baldessari's Blasted Allegories, Mike Parr's Parapraxis III, Brian Eno's Memories of Medieval Manhattan, the performances of the Japanese Bhutto master Min Tanaka, and Krzysztof Wodiczko's sardonic projections onto various strategically chosen buildings across central Sydney, including the facade of the Art Gallery of New South Wales. With over 220 artists included it is inevitable that I will fail to mention most, but I would cite the works by Laurie Anderson, Katharina Sieverding, Rebecca Horn, Susan Rothenberg, Bill Henson, Lucas Samaras, Fiona Hall, Bernhard Blume, Ken Unsworth, Miriam Schapiro, Philip Guston, Michael Snow, General Idea, Terry Allen, Jorg Immendorff, Georg Baselitz, Francesco Clemente, to name a few among an equally deserving cast of many. Another feature which distinguished the 4th Biennale was the way we opened it out, into and across both Sydney and Australia, via an extensive, well orchestrated outreach program of forums, lectures and events. In Sydney alone there were six full weeks of external events beyond the eight venue exhibition and soundwork programs, and visiting artists and critics were contracted to visit other cities and towns across Australia. The rebound energy resulted in an unprecedented level of attendance and involvement at the events and forums. It is vital to its ongoing success to fully comprehend that the Biennale is not just an exhibition; its scope and diversity are critical factors for nourishing artistic development as much as wider audience engagement. I have listened recently with some dismay to people reiterating the view that small is beautiful, a show tailored only to engage the enthusiasm of the culturally committed few. I daresay one of the most satisfying aspects of the Biennale 82 was its scale/scope, its energy, its public engagement, and its flow-on of debate and conjecture. When I arrived back in Sydney in late 1980 there was a palpable sense of both expectation and healthy suspicion surrounding the Biennale. The artist community was alive and energised, with more fervent discussion between artists and factions in Sydney than exists now. The reasons for the present complacency may be that we no longer live in a bipolar system of world power but exist in a less resistant, overtly corporatised social environment, blanketed by a pall of accommodating conservatism. Nearer home - for art - this is characterised by career-option negativism on the part of many of our more prominent art critics who fail to account for the fact that the critical core of any period's artistic endeavour is distinguished by radicalism and innovation. This is compounded editorially in our public media by an unwillingness to embrace society's counter views, which are usually not published when offered, resulting in a general aura of futility. Apart from Transfield's continuing sponsorship throughout its 27 years of existence, the Biennale of Sydney has been consistently restricted due to inadequate local support. For years it was bolstered by support from the participating countries (often up to 60%) and consistently it had to survive on below 5%, now nearer 10%, of the operating budgets of Venice, Săo Paulo, Kwangjiu and other peer events abroad. What at this juncture does the Biennale need? It is always well managed so, apart from more enlightened and courageous art critics in the public media, it needs money. It may be considered remiss if I fail to mention the abortive arrest, by the NSW vice squad, of Juan Davila's now legendary work Stupid as a Painter, an event in itself which became an autonomous cause célčbre, briefly railroading everyone's attention away from the work of every other artist. Fortunately - for the exhibitions - we had at the time a culturally engaged and courageous Premier, Neville Wran, who saw through the whole charade at a glance and ordered it returned with the now legendary declamation: "the police have no business meddling in matters of art, give it back". Another fortuitous occurrence, of a more optimistic tenor, came in the form of a radio station 2JJJ and its presenter Graham Bartlett, who provided a unique and far reaching sonic venue for our contemporary sound/music component, additionally providing a program of historic sound works from the time of the Futurists to the (then) present. Unquestionably the Biennale of Sydney has been pivotally influential in the development of contemporary art practice in our country, intrinsically so, while spawning a number of other seminally important events in its wake such as Australian Perspecta, the Adelaide Biennial, the Asia Pacific Triennial and, recently, the all too briefly extant Melbourne Biennial. The Biennale has brought more important artists, curators and critics to Australia than otherwise ventured here throughout our entire post-1778 history, and (largely) because of this event, begun in the isolation of 1973, our own artists are better known and increasingly included in the programs of art museums and galleries world-wide, no longer victims of cultural seclusion to the great extent that we once were. Participating artists - 1982 Marina Abramovic, Mac Adams, John Ahearn, Davida Allen, Terry Allen, Frederic Amat, Laurie Anderson, Anti-Music, Billy Apple, Jacki Apple, Robert Ashley, Christian L Attersee, Frank Auerbach, John Baldessari, Sydney Ball, Ray Barrie, Judith Barry, Georg Baselitz, Didier Bay, Yann Beauvais, Frank Bendinelli, Luis F. Benedit, Vivienne Binns, Skip Blumberg, Bernhard J Blume, Claus Bohmler, Marion Borgelt, Ed Bowes, Ian Breakwell, Bill Brown, Ronald Brownson, Gunter Brus, Wojciech Bruszewski, Barbara Buckner, Bungawuy, Michael Buthe, James Byrne, Peter Callas, Colin Campbell, Michel Cardena, John Carson, David Chesworth, Sandro Chia, Gunter Christmann, Shirley Clarke, Francesco Clemente, Norman Cohn, James Coleman, Alan Cote, Enzo Cucchi, Roger Cutforth, Radomir Damnjanovic-Damnjan, Juan Davila, Philipe de Montaut, Juan Downey, Russell Dumas, Jean Dupuy, Ed Emshwiller, Brian Eno, Sue Ford, Dale Frank, Alphons Freijmuth, William Furlong, General Idea, Harry Georgeson, Paul Armand Gette, Dan Graham, Philip Guston, Sakumi Hagiwara, Adrian Hall, Fiona Hall, Goji Hamada, Nanette Hassall, Christine Hellyar, Bill Henson, Alberto Heredia, Gary Hill, Susan Hiller, Leigh Hobba, Charlie Hooker, Madelon Hooykaas, Rebecca Horn, Anthony Howell, HP, Alexis Hunter, Mako Idemitsu, Norio Imai, Jörg Immendorff, Mitsutaka Ishii, Joan Jonas, Lyndal Jones, Stephen Jones, Just Another Asshole, Shinichiro Kato, Mary Kelly, Roger Kemp, David Kerr, Ken Kiff, Richard Killeen, Per Kirkeby, Hakudo Kobayashi, Christine F Koenigs, Maria Kozic, Derek Kreckler, Yoshinobu Kurokawa, Robert Kushner, Vineta Lagzdina, Olavi Lanu, Gilbert Lascaut, Laughing Hands, Micha Laury, Bertrand Lavier, F. Uwe Laysiepen, Jean Le Gac, Christopher LeBrun, John Lethbridge, Dianne Lloyd, Annea Lockwood, Chip Lord, Markus Lupertz, MAG Magazin, Liz Magor, Leopoldo Maler, Anne Marsh, Toshio Matsumoto, John McEwen, Bruce McLean, Michael Moon, Ian Murray, Kou Nakajima, Fujiko Nakaya, Maurizio Nannucci, David Nash, New Wilderness Foundation, Gerald Newman, Nancy Nicol, Keisuke Oki, Jorge Ortiz, Hannah O'Shea, Tony Oursler, Nam June Paik, Mimmo Paladino, Mike Parr, Peter Peryer, Lutz Presser, Hilary Radner, Robert Randall, Susan Rankine, Dean Richards, Josef Robakowski, Clive Robertson, Miguel Rojas, Martha Rosler, Susan Rothenberg, Ulrich Ruckriem, Claude Rutault, Hiroya Sakurai, Andraz Salamun, Salome, Lucas Samaras, Dan Sandin, Sankaijuku, Gareth Sansom, Sarkis, Miriam Schapiro, Eva Schramm, Edita Schubert, Jill Scott, Ilene Segalove, Kathleen Seltzer, Peter Sengl, Terry Setch, Severed Heads, Kevin J Sheehan, Kuniichi Shima, Yasuo Shinohara, Katharina Sieverding, Signals, Tony Sinden, Slave Guitars, Michael Snow, Eve Sonneman, Miriam Stannage, Elsa Stansfield, Lisa Steele, Kishio Suga, Rod and VEC Summers, Min Tanaka, Clorindo Testa, The Connotations, Claude Torey, Niele Toroni, David Troostwyk, Philip Trusttum, Tsk Tsk Tsk, Katsushi Tsumara, Shotaro Uchiyama, Ken Unsworth, Luis Fernando Valencia, Paul van Dijk, John van't Slot, Steina & Woody Vasulka, Jacques Vieille, Jean-Luc Vilmouth, Bill Viola, John Walker, Ryszard Wasko, Jenny Watson, John Watt, Boyd Webb, William Wegman, Rodney Werden, Gary Willis, Krzysztof Wodiczko, Bill Woodrow, Gary Wragg, Katsuhiro Yamaguchi, Keigo Yamamoto 1984 Private Symbol: Social Metaphor 11 April - 17 June Leon Paroissien Artistic Director The theme of the Fifth Biennale of Sydney was my response to a succession of international exhibitions I had seen in Europe: The 'Aperto' section of the 1980 Venice Biennale (shown in the Magazzini del Sale), Westkunst in Köln in 1981, and in 1982, the Venice Biennale, documenta, and Zeitgeist, a major international survey shown in the recently restored Martin Gropius Bau in Berlin, in the same year. Common to these exhibitions was a focus on the resurgence of figuration, with an emphasis especially on so-called Neo-expressionist painting. Bill Wright's 1982 Biennale of Sydney surveyed for Australian audiences many of the newly prominent artists spanning expressionist and other figurative tendencies, and I found myself questioning the category labels being applied to work that was quite dissimilar in its intent. I became interested in the interaction between context, form and content in some of this work, in the continuing issue of the socialisation of images, and in the work of other artists not included in these shows. Artists whose work had figurative motifs, but was informed by a tradition of abstraction, were bracketed together with artists whose work drew on aspects of conceptual and political art that had evolved in the 1960s and 1970s. Such work displayed a newly intense vibration between images and signs, whether in traditional media such as painting, or in photography, installation and video. Often similar concerns could be found in the work of three generations of artists: social issues expressed through an evolved personal language of signs. It was also apparent that such work had appeared spontaneously in non-metropolitan art centres. While I knew a little of what was happening in countries outside Western Europe and North America, travelling to research the exhibition, especially in Asia, Latin America and Eastern Europe, amplified my interpretation of the theme. Some of the most significant moments in working on the exhibition occurred in discussions with young artists who had never been in a major international show, and with artists in countries such as Poland, Japan and Chile where, for different reasons, the opportunity of exhibiting abroad was an infrequently provided opportunity to intervene in the mainstream of contemporary art activities internationally. I was equally fascinated by an emerging generation of American artists whose work embraced social themes, but using media such as photography, text and installation in new ways - artists such as Cindy Sherman, Barbara Kruger and Mike Kelley (who was at that time yet to show in New York, and whose visit to Australia instigated the next phase of his work). The Biennale of Sydney has established a reputation for being selected by curators who exercise great control and who are given freedom by the governing body and the institutions in which the exhibition is exhibited. There is also an absence of pressures from dealers to include artists currently prominent in the art market. This freedom to include young artists, possibly projecting them into a more international arena, has become one of the hallmarks of the Biennale of Sydney. The 1979 Biennale took Australia back into a strong relationship with Europe, exposing Australian audiences to what had been happening in Europe during the previous decade, when artists and their audiences had focused on New York. René Block's 1990 Biennale also, in part, revealed multiple historical paths in putting the readymade in context. However that Biennale, and every other exhibition, has brought to Sydney an exceptional range of work by young artists. Over the years of the Biennale of Sydney's life, information about international contemporary art has become more and more accessible. Audiences have travelled much more, and are relatively well informed. In an age when Internet imagery spans every conceivable form - literal and virtual - contemporary art is seldom likely to engage purely through its ability to confront. Competing interests (even non-art museums show contemporary art), and the great number of biennial exhibitions in Australia and abroad, now put far greater pressure on curators to justify the rationale for mounting such massive exhibitions. Unlike Europe, Australia does not have a potentially huge audience for contemporary art within easy travelling time of its main venues, and Biennale of Sydney attendances - although high on a per capita basis - are still small compared with the numbers attending major historical shows in Australian museums. However, there is no substitute for the physical presence or material form of the works of art, and even people familiar with international contemporary art through travel may enjoy extending their experience if the concept and realisation of an exhibition are challenging and engaging. Major exhibitions, historical as well as contemporary, must now acknowledge the presence of generally informed audiences, but ones that may be unfamiliar with the work of preceding decades or with the contemporary context in which the work was created, and respond with appropriate strategies, without suffocating contemporary art's fundamentally resistant spirit. The idea of an exhibition spreading throughout a city was initially a very exciting concept. The first Melbourne International Biennial in 1999 adopted and modified the model of the Venice Biennale by establishing 'national pavilions' in various art institutions throughout the city. While the central exhibition was vigorous and achieved considerable critical approval, the attempt to capture the whole city with 'pavilions' was generally found to be the weakest aspect of the event. Similarly, the city-wide spread of the 1999 Australian Perspecta exhibition of Australian art dissipated much energy that such exhibitions are capable of discharging. Such a geographic spread depends on a strong core exhibition, with a meaningful theme behind the juxtaposition of works. Participating artists - 1984 Davida Allen, Armando, Art & Language, Terry Atkinson, Breda Beban, Frank Bendinelli, Joseph Beuys, Tony Bevan, Annette Bezor, François Boisrond, Peter Booth, Tomasz Ciecierski, Tony Cragg, Juan Davila, Antonio Dias, Gonzalo Díaz, Eugenio Dittborn, Felix Droese, Marlene Dumas, Edward Dwurnik, Mimmo Germana, Gilbert & George, Mike Glier, Hans Haacke, Jenny Holzer, Ralph Hotere, Jörg Immendorff, Berit Jensen, Birgit Jürgenssen, Mike Kelley, Peter Kennedy, Anselm Kiefer, Karen Knorr, Barbara Kruger, Robert Longo, Syoko Maemoto, Colin McCahon, Sandra Meigs, Cildo Meireles, Gianni Melotti, Annette Messager, Olaf Metzel, Sara Modiano, Josef Felix Müller, Christa Näher, Annick Nozati, Anna Oppermann, Andy Patton, A R Penck, Robert Randall, Jytte Rex, Georges Rousse, Klaudia Schifferle, Hubert Schmalix, Cindy Sherman, Vincent Tangredi, Peter Taylor, Dragoljub Rasva Todosijevic/, Vicki Varvaressos, Jenny Watson, Michiko Yano, Eva Man-Wah Yuen 1986 Origins Originality + Beyond 16 May - 6 July Nick Waterlow Artistic Director In the first Biennale in 1973, nine or so of the 15 countries were Asian, so more than half the participation in national terms was Asian. Looking back, this now seems visionary. Tom McCullough's Biennale in 1976 focused on the Pacific Rim. Ten years later in 1986, with postmodernism rampant, the premise was to ask the question, the death or resurrection of originality? At the time appropriation was overly dominant, and the intention was to look at the nature of the postmodern world and a reliance on preceding imagery, as well as at related and supportive thought structures. Alongside this was work that was not based on appropriation, but that was closer to certain modernist ideals. So, essentially, it presented a critical survey of postmodernism in its many guises. Naturally you can only critique something if the work itself is present. Some of the most memorable works for me were by Eric Fischl, Bruce McLean, Stuart Sherman and Rosemarie Trockel; but there were many many others too. Stuart Sherman's performances at the Performance Space were extraordinary. And there was a Japanese artist Hiroshi Hori, who did astonishing work at the same venue. Also part of that country's New Generation, Katsuhiko Hibino looked at images from all over the world and brought them together in a very dynamic way. Kuniko Kisanuki's remarkable Butoh dancing, in front of Magdalena Abakanowicz's strange burlap figures based on the female form, was utterly memorable. And it was wonderful to have the very rare opportunity to show Cy Twombly in Australia. There was amazing sculptural work by Magdalena Jetelova, both at the Pier and at the Art Gallery of New South Wales, and there were wonderful woven mythical figure pieces by Indian artist Mrinalini Mukherjee. Australian artists made memorable contributions, amongst them Colin Lanceley, Tony Coleing, Richard Dunn, Tim Johnson, Hilarie Mais, Ramingining Performance Group, William Robinson and Michael Nelson Tjakamarra. The extraordinary thing still about the Biennale of Sydney is that it always brings to Australia remarkable artists who have yet to be seen in this country. There is not that continuity of exhibitions that you have in London, Tokyo and other large, metropolitan art centres in the western world. In 1986 artists like David Salle and Eric Fistula were represented and they had not been seen here before the Biennale exhibition. Kounellis was in the 1986 Biennale and had hardly been seen here. Kiefer also had some terrific painting and Miriam Cahn presented a remarkable installation of her drawings and books. Glen Baxter was a godsend; his image used on the cover of the catalogue, It was Tom's first brush with Modernism, encapsulated the meaning of the exhibition for me and the general public. Likewise, Malcolm McLaren's version of Manet's Déjeuner sur l'herbe for the pop group Bow Wow Wow seemed to cause as much controversy as the original! Works such as these attracted a totally different audience to the Biennale and to the artists' talks as well. It is worth remembering that Biennales have often brought work to this country, which subsequently entered public collections, that probably wouldn't have happened otherwise. This has been another long-term contribution. Works by Richard Deacon and Jannis Kounellis were purchased by the Art Gallery of New South Wales, and William Tucker by the National Gallery of Victoria, and their inclusion in the Biennale assisted their purchase; these are just a few examples. I do think the Biennale has had a major impact on the community as it has enabled people to see work that otherwise they would not; it has helped develop an understanding of what is happening around the world in every arena from painting to new technologies. I also believe the public has become better informed not only about contemporary art generally, but how effective and varied Australian art looks in an international setting. This has been one of the most significant benefits. It helps to appreciate the qualities of work from your own country when it can be seen alongside peers from elsewhere and I think that the Biennale has given both the public and artists greater understanding and therefore confidence about what has been happening in Australia. Origins, Originality + Beyond provided the opportunity, through texts by Rosalind Krauss, Jean-François Lyotard, Hal Foster, Thomas McEvilley and Thomas Lawson amongst others, to examine comprehensively the postmodern arena, forcefully represented by so many of the aforementioned artists in the Biennale itself, as well as through the related forums and other public programs, reinforced by the presence in Sydney of many of the artists such as Bruce McLean, Laurie Anderson, Malcolm McLaren, Wolfgang Laib and Thomas Lawson, and writers such as McEvilley. Participating artists - 1986 Magdalena Abakanowicz, Robert Adrian, Laurie Anderson, John Armleder, Miguel Barceló, Glen Baxter, Joseph Beuys, Peter Booth, Joan Brassil, Julie Brown-Rrap, Bazile Bustamante, James Lee Byars, Miriam Cahn, Bruno Ceccobelli, Marek Chlanda, Tony Clark, Tony Coleing, Stephen Cox, Nicola De Maria, Stefano Di Stasio, Braco Dimitrijevic, Jiri Georg Dokoupil, John Dunkley-Smith, Richard Dunn, Eric Fischl, From Scratch, Flavio Garciandia, Gerard Garouste, Naoko Goto, Anne Graham, Bill Henson, Katsuhiko Hibino, Hiroshi Hori, Neil Jenney, Magdalena Jetelovŕ, Tim Johnson, Lyndal Jones, Junji Kawashima, Niek Kemps, Richard Killeen, Kuniko Kisanuki, R. B. Kitaj, Astrid Klein, Robert Klippel, Pierre Klossowski, Komar & Melamid, Gickmai Kundun, Wolfgang Laib, Colin Lanceley, Bertrand Lavier, Thomas Lawson, Lindy Lee, Francisco Leiro, Carlos Leppe, Sherrie Levine, Hilarie Mais, Rainer Mang, Carlo Maria Mariani, Agnes Martin, Malcom McLaren, Bruce McLean, Lisa Milroy, Marta Minujin, Pieter Laurens Mol, Malcolm Morley, Reinhard Mucha, Mrinalini Mukherjee, Avis Newman, John Nixon, Susan Norrie, Nunzio, Luigi Ontani, Eric Orr, Therese Oulton, Robert Owen, Mimmo Paladino, Mike Parr, Piero Pizzi Cannella, Sigmar Polke, Norbert Prangenberg, Richard Prince, Ramingining Performance Group, Jacky Redgate, Ad Reinhardt, William Robinson, Gerwald Rockenschaub, Carol Rudyard, David Salle, Gareth Sansom, Thomas Schütte, Vivienne Shark LeWitt, Stuart Sherman, Jose Maria Sicilia, Laurie Simmons, James Simon, Nancy Spero, Yumiko Sugano, Philip Taaffe, Masami Teraoka, Imants Tillers, Michael Nelson Tjakamarra, Rosemarie Trockel, Cy Twombly, Peter Tyndall, Ken Unsworth, Hans Van Hoek, Dick Watkins, Robin White, Joel-Peter Witkin, Alberto Porta Zush 1988 From the Southern Cross: A View of World Art c1940-1988 18 May - 3 July, Sydney 4 August - 18 September, Melbourne Nick Waterlow Artistic Director The 1988 Sydney Biennale was special in that it took place in the year of Australia's Bicentennial celebrations and was able to travel to Melbourne; it also offered a natural yet rare opportunity to display a rich range of Australian art over half a century. It looked thematically at the historical context for the development of a number of key Australian modernist artists whose work was presented alongside their peers or inspirations from around the world. It was therefore possible to show seminal artists like Sidney Nolan alongside Lčger, who had so positively influenced him, Nolan having seen Lčger's work in the 1939 Herald exhibition that Rupert Murdoch's father Sir Keith had brought to Australia. Fred Williams was shown in relation to the extraordinary late flowering of Georges Braque, when he contradicted Cubism and created those remarkable landscapes with a horizon line reminiscent of Williams. The Biennale also provided the opportunity to look at Balthus, for example, in relation to images by a younger generation artist Julie Brown-Rrap, who had referenced his work. So it was possible to weave together the work of many artists and generations under the exhibition title, From the Southern Cross, a view of world art c.1940-1988. It was also exciting to be able to show a Matisse collage Polynésie la mer that related to the southern hemisphere and the Pacific in particular, to show Peter Booth in relation to Francis Bacon and Max Beckmann, Rosalie Gascoigne in relation to Colin McCahon, Mike Parr to Arnulf Rainer, and so on and so forth. There were also two remarkable Australian-based modernist pioneers in the exhibition, Ian Fairweather and Tony Tuckson, who developed an uncanny understanding of the cultures of the region, not to mention Ralph Balson, Joy Hester and Arthur Boyd. Perhaps the most remarkable single work in 1988 was the Aboriginal Memorial. This piece originated through Djon Mundine, then art advisor at Ramingining. It consisted of one memorial for each year of white occupation of Australia. Each took the form of a traditional hollow log coffin. The 200 burial poles have been on display since then at the National Gallery in Canberra, their permanent home. This year they have also been exhibited, to considerable acclaim, in Germany and Russia. This Biennale, with the support of the Australian Bicentennial Authority, travelled to the National Gallery of Victoria and thus brought to a very large audience a coherently structured and broad view of unique developments in Australian art, from the ground breaking moment of Margaret Preston to the postmodern generation of Vivienne Shark LeWitt and Jacky Redgate. Coherent relationships between ideas expressed in this part of the world, with corresponding ones from artists of similar generations in Asia, Europe and the Americas, allowed the creation of a rich exhibition. It expanded the meaning and understanding of the present by clearly articulating, through the inclusion of remarkable precursors and their work, the way ideas from so many parts of the world connect. Catalogue essays by authors such as Ian Burn, Jürgen Habermas and Terence Maloon, with a vibrant series of forums and lectures in both Sydney and Melbourne involving artists and writers, gave sustained, informed and informative meaning to the project. Participating artists - 1988 Renate Anger, W. Thomas Arthur, Richard Artschwager, Gianni Asdrubali, Francis Bacon, Ralph Balson, Balthus, Max Beckmann, Michael Biberstein, Ross Bleckner, Christian Boltanski, Pierre Bonnard, Peter Booth, Marie Bourget, Arthur Boyd, Georges Braque, Julie Brown-Rrap, Günter Brus, Michael Buthe, Genevičve Cadieux, Sarah Charlesworth, Hannah Collins, Robert Combas, Neil Dawson, Willem De Kooning, Richard Deacon, Marcel Duchamp, Lili Dujourie, Lesley Dumbrell, Richard Dunn, Brian Eno, Luciano Fabro, Ian Fairweather, Helmut Federle, Bill Fontana, Katharina Fritsch, Gérard Garouste, Rosalie Gascoigne, Isa Genzken, Godbold & Wood, Franz Graf, Peter Halley, Eitetsu Hayashi, Joy Hester, Roger Hilton, Taishi Hirokawa, Jenny Holzer, Rebecca Horn, Robert Hunter, Toshimitsu Imai, Irwin, Michael Johnson, Anselm Kiefer, Yves Klein, Robert Klippel, Jannis Kounellis, Barbara Kruger, Nikolaus Lang, Maria Lassnig, Fernand Léger, Ingeborg Lüscher, Len Lye, Hilarie Mais, Henri Matisse, Colin McCahon, Victor Meertens, Gerhard Merz, François Morellet, Robert Morris, Olivier Mosset, Natsu Nakajima, Hermann Nitsch, John Nixon, Sidney Nolan, Gianfranco Notargiacomo, Maria Olsen, Tatsumi Orimoto, Sonja Oudendijk, Guilio Paolini, Mike Parr, Guiseppe Penone, Pablo Picasso, Margaret Preston, Martin Puryear, Arnulf Rainer, Ramingining Artists Community, Edward and Nancy Reddin-Keinholz, Jacky Redgate, Gerhard Richter, Mark Rothko, Gareth Sansom, Anna Maria Santolini, Eva Schlegel, Richard Serra, Severed Heads, Vivienne Shark LeWitt, David Smith, Henryk Stazewski, Gary Stevens & Caroline Wilkinson, Andrzej Szewczyk, Imants Tillers, William Tucker, Tony Tuckson, Bill Viola, Jeff Wall, Andy Warhol, Caroline Williams, Fred Williams 1990 The Readymade Boomerang: Certain Relations in 20th Century Art 11 April - 3 June René Block Artistic Director The development of western art has often been regarded as a linear process. In my opinion, it takes place in cycles, in rings. When you take a look at the art of the last century, this becomes very clear. The developments are like the annual rings on a tree trunk which differ according to colour. The colours reflect different styles in art. And just as the colours repeat themselves after a few years, so artists constantly return to earlier developments. One series of rings reflects emotionally intensive painting from Expressionism to the present day. Other rings represent Constructive art movements. Still others, Object and Concept Art. These cycles became the theme of my Biennale - for example, the Ready-made from its invention and pure use by Duchamp, to its resurgence in Nouveau Realism, Pop Art, and Fluxus of the 60s, all the way to new versions by young contemporary artists. I got the idea in 1988, on a train trip lasting several days from Sydney to Perth, after the Board of the Biennale had asked whether I wanted to direct the 8th Biennale in 1990. The idea crystallised in the following months after several encounters with artists and art historians. Lynne Cooke, the author of the catalogue text, was particularly encouraging. I view a biennale as a workshop, a specific place where artists from different countries come together, show their works, and find out about the works of fellow artists. Something like a fair of ideas. Originally, this workshop atmosphere was to be supplemented by a well-curated historical exhibition on the topic of the ready-made. However, constant budget cuts forced me to merge the two into a single exhibition, which turned out okay in the end. I had a wonderful team, and we developed very creative ways of ignoring the constraints imposed by the then Biennale Board and the manager appointed by it. With the help of the chairman, Franco Belgiorno Nettis, we managed to put on the Biennale despite the Board. That made us incredibly close. And when the artists came along, it became a weeks-long party. Ten years later, I still have fond memories of it. A highlight was the piano concert given by Carlos Santos, on a timber raft in the harbour in front of the opera house - but I don't want to talk about individual works. The Ready-made Biennale has stood the test of time well. It has remained current. I didn't see all the Biennales, but Nick Waterlow's European Dialogue in 1979 made a strong impression on me. It had a good atmosphere and was clear and easy to grasp. I was a fan of the Sydney Biennale after that. The Biennale's greatest achievement is doubtless the great effect it has had on young artists in Australia. The art scene underwent an enormous transformation. Artists, galleries, collectors, and international exchange turned Sydney into a lively art centre. This makes me very happy, and I invite Australian artists to my projects whenever I can. The mobility brought about by faster means of travel, on the one hand, and the flood of electronic images, on the other, have made exhibitions such as biennales more necessary than ever. This is evident in their great resonance with the media and with the public. In an age where everything can be reproduced, encounters with originals are of the utmost importance. This applies to all works created by artists. Virtual artworks, some media art, and audio and video art reach audiences through the media in their original form too. This is just another kind of original. It is wonderful that everything is side by side and is being developed side by side - paintings, sculptures, objects, installations, photographs, video art and computer art - and is to be seen in biennale exhibitions side by side. And the Sydney Biennale is now the most important exhibition of contemporary art, both national and international, in Australia. Participating artists - 1990 Dennis Adams, Arman, Mrdan Bajic, Joseph Beuys, Ernst Billgren, Barbara Bloom, Anna Blume, Bernhard Blume, Jennifer Bolande, Christian Boltanski, Peter Bonde, Montein Boonma, Jonathon Borofsky, George Brecht, KP Brehmer, Marcel Broodthaers, Stanley Brouwn, Janet Burchill, Ian Burn, James Lee Byars, Genevičve Cadieux, John Cage, Sophie Calle, Ernst Caramelle, Ian Carr-Harris, César, Ouhi Cha, Giuseppe Chiari, Tony Cragg, Michael Craig-Martin, Peter Cripps, Bill Culbert, Hanne Darboven, Stan Douglas, Marija Dragojlovic, Marcel Duchamp, Richard Dunn, Lauren Ewing, Öyvind Fahlström, Robert Filliou, Fischli & Weiss, Alain Fleischer, Terry Fox, Dale Frank, György Galántai, Rosalie Gascoigne, Robert Gober, Zvi Goldstein, Angela Grauerholz, Asta Gröting, Kristjan Gudmundsson, Federico Guzman, Hans Haacke, Raymond Hains, Hulda Hakon, Richard Hamilton, Ian Hamilton Finlay, Bill Henson, Rut Himmelsbach, Jenny Holzer, Rebecca Horn, Christina Iglesias, Alfredo Jaar, Megan Jenkinson, Ilya Kabakov, Allan Kaprow, On Kawara, Milan Knizák, Alison Knowles, Jeff Koons, Arthur Křpcke, Brigitte Kowanz, Jaroslaw Kozlowski, Derek Kreckler, Christina Kubisch, Shigeko Kubota, Raimund Kummer, Marie Jo Lafontaine, Ange Leccia, John Lethbridge, Sonja Lixl, Joan Logue, George Maciunas, Robert MacPherson, Simone Mangos, Piero Manzoni, Helmut Mark, Allan McCollum, Cildo Meireles, Truls Melin, Annette Messager, Olaf Metzel, Tatsuo Miyajima, Joo Moon, Juan Muńoz, Maurizio Nannucci, Bruce Nauman, John Nixon, Bjřrn Nřrgaard, Julian Opie, Ingrid Orfali, Nam June Paik, Panamarenko, Francis Picabia, Hermann Pitz, Sigmar Polke, Stephen Prina, Rober Racine, Markus Raetz, Fritz Rahmann, Mel Ramsden, Man Ray, Jacky Redgate, Robert Rooney, Mimmo Rotella, Dieter Roth, Carol Rudyard, Ilona Ruegg, Ed Ruscha, Reiner Ruthenbeck, Sarkis, Julian Schnabel, Jill Scott, Servaas, Cindy Sherman, Michael Snow, Wolfgang Staehle, Barbara Steinman, Bent Stokke, Ilkka-Juhani Takalo-Eskola, Rosemarie Trockel, Merylyn Tweedie, Peter Tyndall, Ken Unsworth, Ger van Elk, Ben Vautier, Andy Warhol, Robert Watts, Boyd Webb, Lawrence Weiner, Richard Wentworth, Arthur Wicks, Emmett Williams, Anne Zahalka, Rémy Zaugg 1992/93 The Boundary Rider 15 December - 14 March Anthony Bond Artistic Director When I started working on The Boundary Rider in 1990, two years before the exhibition, it was a very interesting time: boundaries were collapsing, the Iron Curtain was coming down, and there was a shift in the economic balance away from Wall Street towards South East Asia. 'Shifting boundaries' was the current theory. It was the buzzword that included physical borders as well as those to do with gender and difference and also psychological boundaries. A previous proposal for a biennale that I made in the mid-1980s had concerned itself with materials as signifiers in modern art with an emphasis on artists working with the forms of design, furniture, architectural models and so on. I wanted to pick up on some of those 'boundaries' between art and life and conflate them with current theoretical issues. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but it became unmanageable. I'm older and wiser now, and I don't think I'd attempt to conflate so many ideas again. I think I included the largest number of countries to date in the 1992-93 Biennale, about 35, many of which had never been represented before in Australia. I included mainstream figures alongside emerging artists from beyond the traditional centres. If you're dealing with 'breaking boundaries', you need to expand the understanding of Internationalism. One of the pleasing aspects was that, a long time afterwards, the New York based curator Dan Cameron wrote asking for a catalogue; he just happened to see one in an artist's studio and wanted a copy. He saw it as a precursor for a show he was working on called Raw and Cooked. The research trips took me to some fascinating places that are not on the routine curatorial rounds. Michael Schnorr from Border Art Workshop took me along the Mexican border. It was an extraordinary thing to be meeting people and experiencing life on 'the border'. It was no longer a kind of artistic rhetoric; it was actual. These situations shift your perceptions and so the show evolved as a response to the things that I saw. A memorable aspect of the Biennale was the chance to work with an artist like Doris Salcedo. It was very moving to witness the actual process of producing the work and to see the impact it had on those young Australian artists who worked with her. I've had an opportunity to observe that again on two subsequent occasions. When you work with Doris you actually change your whole conception of materiality and come to realise the importance of specific tactile qualities that give the work its resonance. This is not about image or reading the text. It's about a body language, about specificity of labour and of touch. Working closely with artists and selecting stimulating spaces for site specific work are effective ways to get really strong new work from the artists. In 1992-93 I did a video walk-around of the sites and sent tapes to artists such as Melanie Counsell and Richard Wilson describing the spaces I was suggesting. As I walked round the space with the camera I would say, "I'm pointing up to the ceiling now ... you can see it's probably a bit dark up there, a bit dingy, strong smell of the old lanoline ..." giving them a complete run-through of the location. When Richard Wilson came, he made a work that inscribed my text onto the fire doors that he removed and suspended in the space. He was talking about this disembodied description and how different it is when you are in the actual space. There were others things that evolved like that. When I had a dialogue with Dolly Nampijimpa Daniels I said, "Now I don't want to show dot pictures of the desert because in the context of this International theme people will think you're just the token dot-picture-painter. The show is about people showing their place and their life by using objects that they use everyday." She came back after three months and said, "I'm going to bring my place ... all I need is a truck" and so she brought her humpy. She brought it lock, stock and barrel ... oil barrel and tarpaulin and old sticks, and blankets, the works ... and she set up camp in the gallery. It was extraordinary: she didn't go for any mimetic effects either, so when we wanted to put poles in the ground to erect the humpy and we were going to drill holes in the concrete, she said, "No, no, no, if the ground's too hard you fill a bucket with sand and stick the pole in that." She was very matter-of-fact ... there were going to be no illusions here! And there was the Border Art Workshop, a wonderfully scruffy bunch who had come from the USA and who ended up working with the kids in western Sydney. They were out working with a group at Cabramatta getting them to talk about their experience as boatpeople. Then they went up to Darwin and actually saw people come off the boats and got video footage of one of these boats being burned on the beach at Darwin. When they brought it back and showed it to the kids at Cabramatta it turned out that it was the boat one of them had arrived on. She was born on board and had been named after the boat. It became a real emotion loop for them. The children then made an exhibition at Cabramatta shopping centre, including videos and oral histories. Nobody had been able to get stories out of these people before, but the kids had a way of instilling confidence. Since that time I've had these youngsters ringing me up and asking for help to tour the exhibition. They wanted it to be seen nationally and get other children involved ... and I've helped as much as I can. It's spin-offs like these that make the Biennale of Sydney experience worthwhile. And these can happen long after the event. For instance, young artists who have assisted visiting artists have since gone abroad to study with them. These relationships endure and are enormously important. In 1992-93 we tried to match volunteers and skills with artists' needs to make up dedicated teams and this worked really well. It is important, then, that the Biennale exhibition is not bound within the museum model and it's not just a matter of diversifying venues. Rather, it is about bringing people here to work. In the visual arts there's a real sense of community and while Australia seems to be at a distance, this is not insurmountable. For instance, if you're able to work with 40 or 50 artists, you should be able to bring them all to Sydney twice, first to research the site and local context then to install or even produce the work. Ideally you would have three or four artists here for residential periods of a couple of months; this is the sort of thing that really breathes life into the Biennale and it is something that can be incorporated into the marketing of the exhibition. Themes, attitudes and presentations of contemporary art have changed over the 27 years of Biennale exhibitions. Interestingly, some of the exhibitions captured a particular Zeitgeist. In 1982 the new image painting was very much on everybody's lips. The 1979 Biennale was a kind of summation of the pluralism of the 1970s when people were moving from an American to a European focus. And then in 1986 there was the origins and originality debate that attempted to capture the debates about appropriation at the time. In 1992 I tried to capture a certain spirit, but conflated too many 'zeitgeisty' things in one show. It was more like three shows ... interestingly, my more recent exhibition Body was a response to this. Thinking about the proliferation of biennales around the world and the future of the Biennale of Sydney, I don't think Sydney should settle for any set model. The crucial point, I would have thought, is to 're-invent' it every time. I think a higher level of site specificity would be invaluable ... having artists coming here to work. What has distinguished the Sydney Biennale until now has been having a single curatorial vision. It doesn't always work, but the strength of a singular vision and the capacity of a curator to work closely with artists they believe in are the best ways to get great art happening. Increasingly, Sydney got control of the Biennale by getting rid of the commissioners and the imperatives associated with foreign funding agencies and so on. I think that has become a great strength; it would be a pity to walk away from that now. Other countries are picking up on the Sydney model just as we are losing confidence in it, which is ironic. For once, we got there first and we must have the courage of our convictions. The Biennale also gets energy from the community. In the late 1970s, for instance, you had the anger after Whitlam's dismissal, you had the new energy of the Art Workers Union and the impact of feminism in Australia. There was a context for all the arguments raging against 'fine art', 'high art', and within this an international exhibition of the 'great artists' was something of an anathema. That kind of anxiety produced a lot of tension around the exhibition and created fierce debate, something that has lapsed a bit since. That is not the Biennale's fault but reflects a degree of cultural lethargy in Sydney. In 1992 I tried to get a different kind of public access by arranging a symposium that would have significant academic relevance. The symposium should be an important part of the Biennale. There is an enormous hunger here in Sydney for conferences on visual arts and there are at least a dozen conferences a year, but this is a special context for contemporary art. There has been some loss of confidence in contemporary art in recent years that has been a direct result of negative publicity in the popular press. We have had critics who have adopted editorial policies to debunk new ideas and to destabilise the institutions who strive to facilitate and promote contemporary practice. We are in a new millennium now. It seems to me we only need a small trigger to completely overturn the current dire situation. The MCA and the Biennale appear to be so fragile in the face of community indifference but Sydney is one place that should embrace the new, the stimulating, the difficult and take risks. It's just a matter of finding the switch that could persuade people to take a chance with new ideas. Unfortunately, the media are encouraging a deadly, backward-looking, boring and negative view. Somebody has got to put a bomb under them ... there is something wrong with the editorial policies here, horribly wrong, when a lust for failure replaces fresh optimism and curiosity. Participating artists - 1992/93 Aladins neue Lamp, Charles Anderson, Hany Armanious, L. C. Armstrong, Miroslaw Balka, Cécile Bart, Bizhan Bassiri, Marcel Beifer & Beat Zgraggen, Gordon Bennett, Joseph Beuys, Ashley Bickerton, Guillaume Bijl, Dominique Blain, Border Art Workshop / Taller de Arte Frontizerio, BP, Kate Brennan, Imelda Cajipe-Endaya, Campfire Group, Eugene Carchesio, Claus Carstensen, Helen Chadwick, Sarah Charlesworth, Melanie Counsell, Walter Dahn, Cathy de Monchaux, Wim Delvoye, Maria Anne Dewes, Sarah Diamond, Jiri Georg Dokoupil, Michiel Dolk, Milena Dopitová, Orshi Drozdik, Katsura Funakoshi, Diena Georgetti, Jochen Gerz, Guillermo Gómez-Pena & Coco Fusco, Rainer Görß, Jörg Herold, Joyce Hinterding, Martin Honert, Lucero Isaac, Zuzanna (Baranowska) Janin, Tim Johnson, Narelle Jubelin, Jon Kessler, Anselm Kiefer, Martin Kippenberger, Igor Kopystiansky, Svetlana Kopystiansky, Kane Kwei, Janet Laurence, Bertrand Lavier, Annette Lemieux, Kamin Lertchaiprasert, Romero de Andrade Lima, Ken Lum, Fiona MacDonald, Per Maning, Claudia Matzko, Tony McGregor Nigel Helger, Lázaro Garciá Medina, Yechiel (Hilik) Mirankar, Tracey Moffatt, Joey Morgan, Julia Morison, Anne Mosey & Dolly Nampijimpa Daniels, Juan Muńoz, Jean-Baptiste Ngnetchopa, Hitoshi Nomura, Antoine Oleyant, Orlan, Guilio Paolini, Perejaume, Kamol Phaosavasdi, Adrian Piper, Post Arrivalists, Marc Quinn, Charles Ray, Philippe Thomas readymades belong to everyone®, Gerhard Richter, Julie Rrap, Eva Schlegel, Michael Scholz, Bill Seaman, Jeffrey Shaw, Claude Simard, Lorna Simpson, Vasan Sitthiket, Pia Stadtbäumer, Haim Steinbach, Mladen Stilinovic, Peter Stitt, Annelies Strba, Tibor Szalai, Richard Kelly Tipping, Cyprien Tokoudagba, Lidwien van de Ven, Jan Vercruysse, Patrick Vilaire, Vuyile Cameron Voyiya, Ruth Watson, Rachel Whiteread, Martin Wickström, Sue Williamson, Richard Wilson, Dan Wolgers, Erwin Wurm 1996 Jurassic Technologies Revenant 27 July - 22 September Dr Lynne Cooke Artistic Director The concept for Jurassic Technologies Revenant evolved in response to issues that were being addressed by contemporary artists, and in relation to the exhibition being presented in Sydney where a lot of contemporary art isn't frequently seen. I thought the audience might find the theme interesting given that, historically, Australian culture has been very dependent on reproductive technology, for information, for entertainment, and for a view of contemporary developments elsewhere. Restricting the Biennale to 40-plus artists was a very deliberate decision for two reasons. Firstly, there are literally hundreds of contemporary artists currently discussed in magazines and seen in a wide range of shows, both nationally and internationally. What is needed at the moment - as it was then - is interpretation. Rather than simply providing yet more information, curators do a greater service by attempting to find issues, thematics and areas that provide a focus for their exhibitions. Secondly, it's more satisfying to have a substantial statement rather than a sample. By restricting the number of artists, each could be given more space. In addition, if there are one hundred or more artists the viewer is overwhelmed; it is difficult to remember anything. One interesting thing in the exhibition was the linking of textiles and technology, and thinking about how textiles involve reproductions in one form or another. I wanted to bring together artists not normally seen in close conjunction, for example, artists as diverse as Emily Kngwarreye, Alighiero Boetti and Philip Taaffe in the one room. It produced a very revealing dialogue. Other memorable moments were certain talks that artists gave, sitting in galleries, surrounded by their own work - Araya Rasdjarmrearnsook and Willie Doherty spring to mind. Willie was talking about an Irish diaspora that doesn't know Ireland directly and how that related to representations of the Irish situation. I found that very moving and illuminating. Reflecting back on previous Biennales, I think Nick Waterlow's 1986 exhibition was very considered and brought more Australian art into an international context. René Block had a very different perspective; he was very intuitive in the way he made decisions. He seemed interested in the unexpected. I think exhibitions like the Biennale of Sydney are still necessary. There is no substitute for a direct encounter with a work of art; even a virtual work has to be encountered at some level. In terms of a material object no reproduction can substitute for a direct experience of it as a work of art. I don't think electronic technology has obviated the need for physical, phenomenologically based engagement. Although a lot of work now is electronically based, and there is a lot of discussion and exploration in that field, I find it a somewhat immature area. For me, much of the most exciting work is still physically grounded. Despite the fact that many people are travelling more, the art market remains a great determinant of where work is sent. There still isn't a huge amount that is brought to Australia, so I think that the Biennale of Sydney will continue to play a very important role. Another important aspect is the educational outreach, both in terms of what goes on in the exhibition proper, as well as the travel for individual participants that is organised after the opening. Jurassic brought foreign artists to schools, universities and museums elsewhere in the country. That seemed important both for the visiting artists, as it gave them a sense of the country at large, and also for local artists and others who were able to interact directly with these visitors. Sydney's Biennale is distinguished by its Australasian audience. Very few people from abroad see the exhibition, so it can be honed and focused towards local audiences. This gives it a particularity that differentiates it from a show like the Carnegie International, which brings a whole stew of international art world travellers to Pittsburgh. The positive side of this situation is that it permits the Biennale of Sydney to function as a more focused concentration on specific sites and their audiences. Inevitably and necessarily, contemporary art has changed a lot. More importantly the pool from which artists are drawn for exhibitions today is genuinely broader, more global. On the other hand, real issues have arisen from trying to bring together art made in wildly different situations and circumstances. The question becomes how well does this work travel. What happens when it is lifted out of one context and placed in a very different one? This makes the choreographing of an exhibition increasingly difficult. In the past works that came from a more homogeneous situation could be more readily placed together. One of the consequences of this development is that exhibitions need to be more self-reflexive. They have to look at their own internal histories and the fact that they belong to a specific genre or typology, and how that relates to a history of exhibition-making. Reflexivity should be part of the exhibition. The exhibition should not be read as transparent, as simply opening up a series of thematic issues that are embedded in the work on display. It has to be understood as an exhibition tout court, rather than merely a conjunction of works of art. There's a lot to be said for the single artistic director and a particular vision or interpretation. The more partisan and partial the better, because no exhibition is definitive. Any one vision will be replaced or succeeded by another with a totally different perspective. I feel a series of strong but different positions is much more challenging and, ultimately, more productive than consensus mentality. Curating a biennale is an enormous responsibility, undertaken with a sense of commitment. Selection by committee is a different matter. Working on a team that occupies a tiny segment of one's total activity is very different to directing a biennale as one's primary occupation for a couple of years. The most interesting work in the 21st Century is bound to be heading in directions we don't yet know about: it will take us by surprise. Participating artists - 1996 Chantal Akerman, Matthew Barney, Alighiero e Boetti, Frédéric Bruly Bouabré, Francesco Clemente, Claude Closky, Willie Doherty, Heri Dono, Stan Douglas, Jeanne Dunning, Nia Fliam & Agus Ismoyo, Nan Goldin, Felix Gonzalez-Torres, Douglas Gordon, Silvia Gruner, Andreas Gursky, Ann Hamilton, Jaques Herzog & Pierre de Meuron, Susan Hiller, Rebecca Horn, Lyndal Jones, William Kentridge, Emily Kame Kngwarreye, Louise Lawler, Matts Leiderstam, Glenn Ligon, Esko Männikkö, John Massey, Boris Michailov, Tracey Moffatt, Yasumasa Morimura, Jean-Luc Mylayne, Shirin Neshat, Ruben Ortiz-Torres, Tony Oursler, Peter Peryer, Araya Rasdjarmrearnsook, Thomas Ruff, Yinka Shonibare, Hiroshi Sugimoto, Philip Taaffe, Diana Thater, Rosemarie Trockel, Eulŕlia Valldosera, Mark Wallinger, Franz West 1998 every day 18 September - 8 November Jonathan Watkins Artistic Director When I started planning the 1998 Biennale of Sydney, what I did was draw up a list of artists whose work I liked, who I felt were communicating something poignant or new. It was from that core list that I began to articulate a more global view of current art practice. The idea for my exhibition was derived very much from artists' work. It was not so much an idea that I developed out of an extensive cultural theory, to be exemplified through contemporary visual art - rather, the content of the exhibition evolved from conversations I had with artists. The very first ideas occurred to me as I was organising a Fischli & Weiss exhibition for the Serpentine Gallery, London, and talking with these two artists a lot about the nature of ordinariness and the 'everyday'. This certainly catalysed the concept for my Biennale. I was concerned not to be too literal in my interpretation of the exhibition's concept ... I wanted to consider work that not only depicted the everyday - or represented everyday activity - but also work that actually embodied the everyday. I wanted to get away from the idea that 'everyday' was necessarily synonymous with what was on-the-street, abject, tough or culturally under-privileged. I wanted to suggest something more abstract, philosophically speaking, and thus encourage the audience to look beyond surface appearances. My initial ideas for the Biennale were like a kind of block-sketch ... or a hunch, and then it was a question of going out to test it in an international context. It was important to have Nikos Papastergiadis' essay in the catalogue, concerned particularly with the current British scene, because that was the context from which the concept sprang. However I had to see whether or not the idea had correspondence in other artistic communities. Was it as true in Japan ... in Brazil ... in Africa ... in New Zealand? That was, of course, the fundamental point of my research for the Biennale. Very interesting ideas, from my point of view, developed as I moved from country to country - ideas that I would not necessarily have predicted - with a strong emphasis on ecology, the continuing need for inventiveness, an assertion of domesticity and to some extent a recapturing of child-like perception. These relate very much to the idea of directness as a virtue, a desire for direct communication which, again, was one of the keys to the proposition of every day. My ideas for this exhibition were very informed by the fact that it was going to be in Sydney and it was the Biennale just before the millennium. I wanted to play off the idea of the millennium - referring to it but not mentioning it. Significantly, I think, a lot of work in the show embodied the passage of time, sometimes by making explicit the processes by which the work was made ... I am thinking here of work by artists such as Bernard Frize or Germaine Koh which consists essentially of the process by which it was made and thus enables the viewer to apprehend the passage of time. Many of the artists included in my Biennale expressed what it's like to be in the real world. I think this corresponds to a reassertion of a kind of realism ... a desire to communicate what it really feels like 'to be here now'. When I think back on the exhibition, there were so many things I loved and they were not necessarily the most spectacular pieces on show. Something I'll always cherish is the On Kawara installation Pure Consciousness in a local kindergarten. I felt it was at the heart of my Biennale ... an invisible, perversely inaccessible part of the show, but absolutely available for the children who could see it, who lived with it. Here were seven paintings by one of the most uncompromising and stringent conceptual artists located in a situation which was as poetic as it was non-specialist. The part played by Goat Island in the Biennale I'll also never forget. The experience of that trip on the ferry, which shuttled between the shore and the island, watching Perry Robert's work fit into the backdrop of the city … listening to the music that Shimabuku had composed with an Aboriginal performance artist and then seeing Goat Island in the light of work by other Biennale artists. From my point of view, the 'everyday' Biennale worked quite well. I had hoped that the environment within which the exhibition was taking place would become part of the exhibition. I would like to think that the Biennale succeeded in that respect. As one moved between the Art Gallery of New South Wales and the Museum of Contemporary Art, through the Botanic Gardens, a lot of non-art experience could be taken in. The idea of art work no longer being discrete or self-contained but fused with its environment, for me, is crucial. Goat Island epitomised that idea - the idea that one's experience of a work of art doesn't equate with the perception of a self-contained object. Rather, it is an environmental experience. Another memorable moment for me was Rirkrit Tiravanija's work outside the MCA on the opening night. There in all the confusion about admission - who could or couldn't be let in to this venue - was Rirkrit on the lawn with a tent and cases of beer, screening films ... and absolutely anybody could go in. There was a wonderful, informal feeling - and relief! - making this project very special. It is interesting to me how many people in Australia refer to René Block's 1990 Biennale as particularly seminal. My impression is that he really got it right in terms of what local audiences needed at that time - to some extent it constituted a required modern art history lesson. From my point of view it's great that that exhibition had happened. I think there was a lot of overlap between the 1998 Biennale and René's, in terms of some of the artists included. The idea that 'Art Is Easy', emblazoned on the cover of the 1990 Biennale catalogue perhaps wasn't so far from my 'every day' proposition. It's fascinating how certain biennales have become lodged in a more popular imagination. There are reverberations, often years later … biennales undeniably have an effect on local artistic communities but it is not necessarily an immediate one. One important thing, I think, is to get as many artists as possible from abroad to come to Sydney because working alongside Australian artists means that significant relationships are formed. Artists leave and news about what's going on in Australia then filters through, but in more informal ways. This is one very important role that the Biennale plays - far more effective than the most strategic Australia Council marketing campaign. It's because exhibitions like the Biennale of Sydney happen on a personal level ... the dialogue may be informal but chances are it's more authentic. It is impressive the degree to which, over the years, the Biennale of Sydney has engaged with what's happening elsewhere in the world. It has been very relevant. For instance, Leon Paroissien's exhibition in 1984 captured the mood of a new spirit in painting, until then a very European phenomenon. I think Nick Waterlow's exhibition in 1986 was also very much a lightning rod through obfuscating conversations about appropriation and early post-modern culture. These were good things for local audiences, even if they weren't appreciated at the time. Of late there has been an idea that exhibitions such as biennales are redundant. I don't think that's true - the fact that many more biennales are being invented would suggest otherwise. The fact that people are travelling more, and there is more communication and things are more immediate, doesn't necessarily work against the idea of such exhibitions, but it may change their nature. And consistent with the proposition of every day, there is nothing like confronting the real thing, nothing like having that physical experience of objects in space and the opportunity to see one work of art juxtaposed with another. The opportunity for artists to come together in a particular city and respond to it in a particular way is still very exciting. There's no reason why this shouldn't continue to happen in Sydney, as it does lately in Yokohama or Johannesburg. The proliferation of biennales is a healthy sign. The Biennale of Sydney, like many exhibitions, acknowledges its context. The fact that it happens in Sydney immediately makes it different. I think this difference should be capitalised on. Rather than pretending that a Biennale of Sydney could happen anywhere, I think one has to make the most of the fact that the exhibition is happening in a very distinct landscape. That said, it's hard to say where the Biennale of Sydney might be heading in the new century. To a large extent it's character will be determined by the Board: they will ultimately decide. I do think that the changing relationship between the artist, audience and curators is increasingly important. In a sense, they are all parts of the same machine ... collaborators if you like, and the changing relationships must be acknowledged. Audiences, too, see themselves as less passive, as freer, and curators are no longer simply 'selectors' ... just as artists can no longer be characterised as being especially sensitive creatures, a breed apart. Large exhibitions such as the Biennale of Sydney inevitably must reflect these changes. Participating artists - 1998 Ignasi Aballi, Absalon, Georges Adéagbo, Pep Agut, Carl Andre, Polly Apfelbaum, Chumpon Apisuk, Rasheed Araeen, Roy Arden, Vladimir Arkhipov, Howard Arkley, Elisabeth Ballet, Guy Bar-Amotz, Joël Bartoloméo, Rebecca Belmore, Frédéric Bruly Bouabré, Joyce Campbell, Martin Creed, David Cunningham, Thomas Demand, Margaret Robyn Djunginy, Elizabeth Djuttara, Colin Duncan, Olafur Eliasson, Ariane Epars, Fischli & Weiss, Ceal Floyer, Bernard Frize, Giuseppe Gabellone, Fernanda Gomes, Joseph Grigely, Katharina Grosse, Maria Hedlund, Henriette Heise, Gavin Hipkins, Roni Horn, Robert Hunter, Pierre Huyghe, Ann Veronica Janssens, Tadashi Kawamata, On Kawara, Kcho, Clay Ketter, Dieter Kiessling, Patrick Killoran, Kim Soo-Ja, Kim Young-Ji, Suchan Kinoshita, Germaine Koh, Udomsak Krisanamis, Denise Kum, Desmond Kum Chi-Keung, Surasi Kusolwong, Henrietta Lehtonen, Yuri Leiderman, Gereon Lepper, Robert MacPherson, Lani Maestro, Kelly Mark, Mike Marshall, Beatriz Milhazes, Lisa Milroy, Ernesto Neto, Ani O'Neill, Julian Opie, Owada, Platten/ Clarke/ Rodenrys, Khalil Rabah, Navin Rawanchaikul, José Resende, Perry Roberts, Peter Robinson, Manuel Rocha Iturbide, Lev Rubenshtein, Paul Saint, Joe Scanlan, Jean-Frédéric Schnyder, William Seeto, Shimabuku, Jim Speers, Beat Streuli, Thomas Struth, Yoshihiro Suda, Pascale-Marthine Tayou, Rover Thomas, Rirkrit Tiravanija, Grazia Toderi, Pekka Turunen, Marijke van Warmerdam, Richard Venlet, Franco Vimercati, Virginia Ward, Jimmy Wululu, Ding Yi, Noa Zait, Zhang Peili, Zhao Bandi, Zhu Jia, Ximena Zomosa James Angus Neuschwansteins 1998 basswood, lasercut maple 60 x 90 x 35cm Courtesy of Roslyn Oxley9 Gallery and Gavin Brown's Enterprise, New York

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