by Naine Terena

La Biennale di Venezia is recognized as one of the main art events in the world. With over a hundred years of history, marked by discussions about canons, the market, and power, it has been much debated. However, the 2024 edition, entitled Stranieri Ovunque – Foreigners Everywhere, is especially symbolic for Indigenous Brazilians, who are only now occupying this space in a significant way, on several fronts. The very name of the show raises important questions about the idea of ‘foreigners’, even in the context of the Biennale.

The presence of Indigenous artists both in the main exhibition, curated by Adriano Pedrosa, and in the Brazilian Pavilion – renamed the Hãhãwpuá Pavilion for this edition – curated by Arissana Pataxó, Denilson Baniwa, and Gustavo Caboco Wapichana, represents an important milestone in the history of the Bienal and Brazilian art. But what is the significance of this milestone? To explore this question, I spoke to artists who took part in the Ka’a Pûera: we are walking birds exhibition, Brazil’s participation in this edition. Olinda Tupinambá, Glicéria Tupinambá, and Ziel Karapotó shared their reflections on the meaning of occupying this space.

Collectivity, groupings, and communitarianism – an Indigenous way of making art

From these conversations, fundamental aspects emerged about the Indigenous presence at the Biennale and its relationship with contemporary art. The Hãhãwpuá Pavilion prioritized the opportunity to tell stories through art, revealing a network of collaboration rooted in Indigenous tradition, which has survived contact with non-Indigenous people for 524 years.

Despite having three main artists, the show was the result of many other collaborations, which reflects Indigenous communitarianism. This collaborative nature has also expanded into a pedagogical process for the arts. Glicéria Tupinambá and Ziel Karapotó, for example, worked with members of their villages and their families. Ziel relied on the help of his relatives to make the fishing nets, a technique he learned from his mother and is now passing on to the next generation.

In addition to the nets, the maracás used in Ziel’s work were made with the help of his cousin Elenildo Suanã, who also helped him collect the materials. Making up the soundscape of the installation in Venice, Toré was recorded with a group from his community. Glicéria, meanwhile, involved the curators in a series of activities that led to the video shown at the Biennale. For her, collective work is fundamental, as it values not only the end result, but also the community processes that lead to artistic creation.

In addition to the impact on the arts, Glicéria highlights the importance of this type of activity for the preservation of Indigenous culture. “Being with the young and the old, having a place to speak, passing on knowledge to the young, generates trust. The elders are the bearers of knowledge, and the transmission of knowledge by the masters in the village intensifies. Young people are more interested in wanting to learn, in wanting to understand the place of this knowledge. This space has been opened up to value the elders, and for younger people to seek out this knowledge in order to be custodians in the future,” explains the artist. 

Still in the field of partnerships, during the Biennale’s opening events, Ziel Karapotó and Olinda Tupinambá held a performance in the Pavilion. In it, Ziel destroyed gun bullets with a stone, symbolizing the violence suffered by Indigenous people and other marginalized groups. Olinda, for her part, presented elements linked to the Indigenous spirit world, essential to their cultural resistance.

The works in the Hãhãwpuá Pavilion still seem to be under construction (as they should in an Indigenous exhibition), with other collaborators who belong to the complex idea of balance and dialog between the human, animal, plant, and cosmological. Over the last few months, small forms of life have been spotted cohabiting and co-creating this place: from the sprouting sweet potatoes to the nests prepared by the small birds that have entered the pavilion and felt the security of fertile ground there. They are not strangers to this place.

Impressions and perspectives

Artist Olinda Tupinambá says of the event: “I believe that art is capable of arousing curiosity and reflection about a country, its cultures, and the world. In this sense, the Biennale is an important showcase for the visibility of artistic manifestations linked to the various peoples, cultures, and visions of art that are present in the world.”

The Indigenous presence at the Biennale represents an opportunity to reframe the past, present, and future of art history, bringing to light the social realities and political arrangements of Indigenous peoples in Brazil today, something little known to many visitors. Glicéria Tupinambá points out that, at the Biennale, it was possible to show Indigenous life to the world without defining what is right and wrong in art making. It was possible to present other knowledge, which until then had been in the ‘shadows’.

Glicéria thinks that this was only possible because the team’s work involved something that is very present among Indigenous peoples: collective action. “The perspectives of listening, talking, and getting to the place of presenting Brazilian Indigenous culture is an important place of occupation at the Venice Biennale,” she said. However, even though she considers this space important, Glicéria also points out that this was one of many “arrows launched” – and it’s only the beginning. This arrow, for Olinda, shows how little the public at events like this still knows about the art and Indigenous people of Brazil. “This contact made me realize that people know even less than I thought about Indigenous art, and this gave me the opportunity to bring the reality of our art to this audience,” Olinda says.

In Glicéria’s view, this contact also brought Brazilians outside Brazil closer to their own history. She recalls: “During the opening, Brazilian people allowed themselves to be moved and to search for memories of the territory. From this perspective it was incredible, we were able to bring the language, the feeling, to make people feel this immersion. It also served to reflect on what this place is and how it allows us to expand knowledge, technique, the transmission of knowledge, listening, and how to transmit what is important to Indigenous history.”

As artists who produce and experience the market, the group also has its own impressions. It’s important to say that the issue has also been problematized, since it broadens the perspective of works beyond the art-activism binomial and generates a commercial movement around Indigenous artists. Olinda explains that art is, above all, the manifestation of the thoughts and worldviews amalgamated in each artist, and which reflect their life stories and professional trajectories, their personal interests, their worlds. She stresses that it was an important moment to experience the world of art, meet other artists and be able to exhibit her work to a wider audience. Glicéria sums up her participation: “The impact was positive, we had a lot of visibility in the media, representing a State, a locality, a territory that people didn’t know about. Other invitations to take part in other events and other immersions are forthcoming.”

About the author

Naine Terena holds a PhD in education, Masters in art and Communications. She is an artist educator, researcher, and curator.