The Biennial has officially arrived in Liverpool! Its 11th edition, titled The Stomach and The Port, promises an exploration into “shift[ing] our understanding of bodies from something humans have, to something humans are … striv[ing] for a world that nurtures life for all. In this Biennial, art explores those entanglements and their potential for resistance, providing a space to imagine.” (Liverpool Biennial Website 2021)
One idea that stands out on the site’s introduction is that of kinship: looking beyond Westernised surface level understandings of identity and individualism to enhance our empathy towards our fellow humans, using the metaphor of the shifting physical body to align with Liverpool’s position as a historical meeting point of trade and commerce. If you have read my post on Eve Provost Chartrand, similar concepts seem to lie at the heart of this project, though in this case the othering of non-Western cultures and people, and the past and present relationships that have developed from these exclusionary attitudes take the lead. It feels as though the art and wider communities are continually pushing for dialogues regarding our relationships with each other to be taking place, and it is exciting to see this in something as impactful – or I suppose official – as a biennial.
As an aside, I appreciate the way in which the collection of works has been streamlined to align with the proposed relaxation of covid safety precautions; it has kicked off with larger outdoor sculptures and is providing a weekly release of a range of online content, before eventually opening gallery and public spaces for exhibitions and workshops in May. I have hopes that much like a good tv show, a weekly dosage will allow for a more thorough appreciation of the content on offer over the hurried bingeing of as much imagery as the eyes can absorb.
That being said, I plan to track as much of the festival as I can, and report back on my most personally intriguing findings here – beginning with the highlight of this post!
Osteoclast (I do not know how I came to be on board this ship, this navel of my ark), 2021 by Teresa Solar.
Being shown at Exchange Flags in Liverpool City Centre, this outdoor installation consists of five large kayaks carved in the shape of human bones. They are eye-catching to say the least, the illusion of floating given to the sculptures by the X shaped posts that support each of the vessels. Alongside their fluorescent orange glow, the pieces give off the same effect of spotting buoys out at sea, set adrift in the vast sameness of the otherwise grey square of Exchange Flags.
The navel/naval wordplay in the title of this work also nods to Liverpool’s history as a trading port – but also helps to explicate this metaphor of the human body represented through objects. Personally I felt it spoke directly to the mistreatment of those considered less than human – seen as cargo in a moneymaking business before they are seen as people.
It seems inevitable that when exploring Liverpool’s maritime history there also comes the city’s involvement in the transatlantic slave trade. In the past year, furlough and lockdown for many people seemed to allow more concentrated efforts to be put into addressing and unpacking Britain’s imperialist past and challenging racist views that are very much still ingrained in our culture as we speak. Solar’s work and the overall mission statement of the biennial certainly seem to be eager to explore this idea and is doing so in a multitude of ways.
I noted the placement of this piece alongside the Nelson Monument that looms over the square. Celebrating Admiral Nelson, known anti-abolitionist, with four of his victories personified by figures in shackles and emblazoned with the words ENGLAND EXPECTS EVERY MAN TO DO HIS DUTY, the sculpture gives very much imperialist vibes, and as we have seen in the past year statues – among many other things – have come under scrutiny when it comes to what or who exactly they are celebrating. I am aware this particular monument probably isn’t getting tossed into the Mersey any time soon, and although it is not an urgent matter, I think it is important to note that we have the ability to bring these conversations into play in every aspect of decision making when it comes to art – all the way down to location.
There is something hopeful feeling about all this though. Despite delving into a nastier side of humanity, the very exploration of such an issue means that we are confronting our past and not continuing to turn a blind eye. It is baby steps, but in an industry historically championed by rich white men, it is refreshing to see such issues raised on this widespread platform.
