Looks like I'm entering our garden
In the darkest of times, tendinga garden was considered to be an act of confidence. Amidst catastrophes, in the wake of earthquakes and bombardments, having one’s goals and aspirations crushed by a totalitarian society, or trying to stand ground against the barrage of changes that erode old directions, leaving the map of our previously familiar world completely blank. When our worldview collapses and no action seems possible, we are still able to create a semblance of order through the simple act of tending a garden. According to Zygmunt Bauman, the gardener is a figure who meets the challenges of the present. The gardener “... believes that the world will have no order (at least the small part of the world entrusted to their care) unless they constantly watch over it and make an effort.” A gardener of culture, the artist can lay down a foundation of confidence in times of change — whatever the scale of their action, based on their own practice, without resorting to generalizations.
Young art, like Beaujolais Nouveau, may lose its definitive properties. Ere the break of dawn, it can disappear from galleries and museums, vanish from city walls, censored out of existence by officials or self-righteous peers. Conscious of its own vulnerability, it may still seek expression that can support an entire culture. The Second Biennale of Young Art chooses the image of a garden and the metaphor of gardening not only to represent the practices of some contemporary artists, but also to provide an opportunity to open up a shared space where all the participants may be visible to each other. An uncomfortable encounter may also enable new connections. The Biennale seeks to define the community not by harmonising it, but by recognizing the multitude of its forms; not by avoiding sharp corners, but by relying on the positive potential of the tension between them.
What’s around is not a ruin. It looks like I'm entering our garden.