A Poem about Venice Biennale 2021

At the core of your research trip,

An event;

Where conclusions land just on time,

Where solutions shadow the cyborgs,

Where machines work with us,

Not for us. Of course.

W e l c o m e.

 

Here’s a first solution [        ].

Here is the process it takes to become one: 

A lot of measuring,

Sometimes duplicating, 

Always extracting,

Towards predicting. 

(the happiness)

 

Hmm.

Hmm.

 

How to make the word strategic sound sexy again? 

 

I know.

It’s in the random.

Surround random with walls that are trained to predict exactly what is it that makes random random and,

what is it that makes the random randomly appear??

Watch. 

While simultaneously encouraging the random to do what random does, 

accommodate the clues in a place not strictly squared.

In other words, 

make random predictable. 

For yourself.

 

It is safe to say that,

We all agree.

Designing the design designs us back.

Solving the solutions makes it clear that we have a lot of problems.

 

Safe. 

 

Most of the participating assignees,

solve towards the magnet of happiness;

But why is everybody still sad? 

 

Let’s try to get excited about happiness again. 

As a whole, this installation is an open-ended, three-dimensional collage that invites us to consider new ways of living together. 

Unattractive, yes,

But !problematic. 

And when hopeful,

Almost convincing. 

It is not enough, here, to merely resurrect a powerful symbol, rekindling for a moment a flash of the past. The main objective must be to grant it new functionality.

(I hate the word must, 

unless I must say something.)

In addition to a sporting event,

the olympics must be a tool for the development of the territory.

(Winter Olympics in Bosnia resulted in Longing, 

where development was expected).

 

Let’s try to get excited about happiness again. 

 

In an attempt to bring back the 60s,

The local pavilion decided to wrap all international angles in their plastic bag of responsibility.

In an attempt to bring back the 60s, 

the pavilion forgot to slow down its typeface,

From rushing to the space.

In italic style.

 

I announce a break from happiness. 

Outside. 

 

Trees intertwine with metal;

They coexist.

 

And then,

A snow engineer speaks to the camera about the importance of snow. 

He’s my favourite. 

Less is, 

more or less, 

more now. 

 

The most contemporary question marches in: Who is We?

(brought to you by the Dutch Pavilion)

 

Fine. I surrender to my naive blind spots. 

It feels like I’m watching Eurovision;

Or participating like someone who watches Eurovision,

In general.

 

I don’t even feel strange. 

My friend tells me that,

Each attempt to understand through what’s written,

Makes her think of everything elsebutthis.

 

I agree.

There are too many signs warning to please not touch the art designed to answer,

How Will We Live Together. 

 

And that’s what we really,

Really want.

 

Maisa Imamovic