VeniceSuperBlog

The Superblog had the best bellinis. The ones in the Danieli (courtesy of the Americans) weren’t nearly as good. After two days, these rather obnoxious distinctions start to make a sort of sense. With 49 countries launching their pavillions and exhibitions for the press, their colleagues and some intrigued passers-by, you start to develop an internal categorisation. ‘I should make it to the British Pavilion because the Long Blondes are playing’, starts to make better sense to you than ‘Latvia looks interesting’ (which it did). Rumours go around: Iceland are flying in a chef, and then you decide over gravad laxs that champagne at ten might work after all. There are the inevitable culture clashes; Russia and Ireland are both on at four, so which do you choose?

Ireland, of course, and so did Ricky Burdett, who said the group presentation by nine Irish practices was one of the best explorations of Cities Architecture and Society he had seen. Afterwards we went to the Gabrielli for more bellinis (not as good as the Superblog’s, probably on a par with the Americans..).

At this stage, what is on view becomes a blur. Belgium stands out for colour and kinetics, the French have everyone talking by living on the top of their Pavililon in a sort of Big-Brother-in-the-Giardini kind of a way. But what about architecture? What about the deeper themes? Perhaps that doesn’t matter so much, after all the Pavillions will remain open for weeks after these frantic days

have passed, and for looking at architecture, whether it is by means of models, diagrams, photographs, installations or video - what is really needed is alittle space and time, and an interested friend or colleague to talk things over with afterwards. No, the opening days of the Biennale are about meeting and greeting, connecting, and a fair amount of national showing off.

It’s also about seeing architects away from their natural habitats. Some adapt better than others. At the Danieli, where air conditioning seemed a distant, American and maybe rather suspect concept, it was sweltering. The Danieli’s ballroom (Marco Polo B, I seem to remember) would have been incredibly chic when it was first built, sometime in the seventies I suspect, although it could easily have been ten years earlier. Now it is a hot tired space, like many of its inhabitants that evening. Slowly melting, alongside equally slow cocktail-making, the women fared better than the men, who didn’t seem to have got to grips with the idea of taking heavy suit jackets off in murderous heat.

The worst sufferer seemed to be a young man who had accessorised with a silk scarf, tied cravat-style, dramatic white shirt, black jacket and plenty of sweat. Zaha Hadid was leaving as I arrived, I would say she looked cool and elegant in an appropriate ensemble, but that would put this blog on a level with those of the papparazzi who were outside, waiting for a glimpse of Posh and Beckham, in Venice for Something to do with Gucci, and which is, oddly enough, something I find extremely tempting.

Last night the Americans didn’t serve Bellinis, instead it was wine at the Guggenheim in a lovely garden party where we ate deep fried sage leaves, and were eaten in turn by mosquitoes. And then to the Gaggiandre, where an interesting door policy meant some were admitted to a supply of endless proseccos, and (ultimately) a line of conga-dancing architects, while others went to meander back through the streets of Venice. On my own meanderings at around 4 am, I found scattered architects, squinting at maps on different bridges. Venice is an architectural triumph, a man made city where nature is fighting back and geography always has the last laugh.

So highlights?

Bellinis at the Superblog (Harry’s Dolce)
The Icelandic Breakfast
The Four Long Blondes and dirty great bottles of beer at the British Pavilion
Deep fried sage leaves at the Guggenheim
Seemingly-endless prosecco and cakes presented in architectural boxes at the Gaggiandre

And now it’s time for the architecture.