Dirartecontemporanea |2.0 gallery is pleased to announce the online opening on Thursday the 7th of March 2015 from 7pm of the 2nd unofficial and independent event at the 56th International Exhibition of Art the Venice Biennale titled: 2nd Indipendent Web Pavilion - Humanity, Betrayed & Traitors.

A video and 128 images to think about Art not art systems. Silently reflecting about the destiny and the purpose of making Art, not anymore as a subtle and deceiver political procedure of subjugation to the strong powers of the economic-financial market increasingly influential sometimes even decisive on the Art’s languages through a pressure on the unique and true “protagonist”: the Artist. A pavilion, therefore, to the Humanity because the Art in its various forms of expression IS Human Heritage not a diversion, entertainment in the hands of the sprawling and constrictive free market. Even though we always are “children of the era” we are living where everything is politics – unfortunately still art of compromise – from the Artists, intentionally missing in this pavilion but paradoxically and for necessity recalled, they are expected to stay out from any compromise taking freedom back. Freedom of being exceptional Men, “political animals” able to return (to the Humanity) an advanced and high idea about doing “politics” through their own means of expression avoiding the ruthless logics of the markets, of the economic potentates, conflicts of interest, nepotisms, transformisms, mass-media.

Maybe this poem by Wislawa Szymborska ( Kòrnik,1923/Cracovia,2012 – Nobel Prize in Literature, 1996 ) can enlighten us:

We are children of our era;
our era is political.
All affairs, day and night,
yours, ours, theirs,
are political affairs.
Like it or not,
your genes have a political past,
your skin a political cast,
your eyes a political aspect.
What you say has a resonance;
what you are silent about is telling.
Either way, it's political.
Even when you head for the hills
you're taking political steps
on political ground.
Even apolitical poems are political,
and above us shines the moon,
by now no longer lunar.
To be or not to be, that is the question.
Question? What question? Dear, here's a suggestion:
a political question.
You don't even have to be a human being
to gain political significance.
Crude oil will do,
or concentrated feed, or any raw material.
Or even a conference table whose shape
was disputed for months:
should we negotiate life and death
at a round table or a square one?
Meanwhile people were dying,
animals perishing,
houses burning,
and fields growing wild,
just as in times most remote
and less political.

(Children of Our Era ; 1998)