Biennales: Where Mediocrity Meets Messianic Complexes - Malta 2024

 Ah, the art biennales, those grand spectacles of self-importance scattered across the globe like confetti at a parade. What a delight it is to witness these exhibitions, where artists gather like seagulls around a chip truck, each vying for attention in the cacophony of creative mediocrity.

One of the worst things about the 300-plus biennials that have sprung up across the globe is their delusional belief that they're the saviors of the world. As if splattering paint on a canvas or arranging random objects in a room could somehow reverse climate change or bring about world peace.

Take Malta's latest attempt at artistic enlightenment, for example. As if the charming chaos of Valletta's streets wasn't enough, they've decided to unleash a barrage of performance artists onto unsuspecting pedestrians. And let's not forget the British military forts turned into avant-garde playgrounds or the museums overrun by video art, leaving visitors to question whether they've stumbled into an exhibition or a modern art version of a house of mirrors.

But fear not, dear reader, for this isn't just a Maltese quirk. No, the epidemic of biennale fever has spread far and wide, infecting even the most unlikely of places with its pompous proclamations of cultural significance. From Venice to Sao Paolo, from Kassel to Gwangju, these events sprout like weeds in an abandoned garden, each claiming to be more profound than the last.

And what's the secret recipe behind this proliferation, you ask? Simple: mix a dash of government funding with a sprinkle of tourist board enthusiasm, throw in a theme about societal change for good measure, and voilà! You have yourself a biennale.

But let's not kid ourselves. Behind the facade of artistic enlightenment lies a grim reality. Biennales have become less about genuine creativity and more about ticking boxes on the social justice checklist. Gender equality? Check. Migration issues? Check. Gentrification? Checkmate.

Yet amidst this sea of virtue signaling, genuine talent occasionally emerges like a lighthouse in a storm. Take German artist Bettina Hutschek, for instance, whose exploration of biblical and folk misogyny was a rare beacon of brilliance amid the sea of banality.

So, to the organizers of these grandiose exhibitions, I offer a humble suggestion: ditch the grand themes, cut down on the artist overload, and for heaven's sake, stop pretending you're saving the world one mediocre art installation at a time. Maybe then, just maybe, we'll have something worth admiring amidst the sea of artistic excess.