Held every two years, Biennials not only feature artists from around the world but they often serve as artistic forums that further the dialogue on a slew of political and other controversial issues.

Biennials date back to 1895 when Venice was the site of an elaborate display of the contemporary art world. But it has really been over the last 20 years that Biennials grew exponentially in popularity. 

Held at some renowned sites for art, like the Whitney Museum (New York) which is currently celebrating its 75th anniversary, Biennials have also been staged in some unlikely locations, such as Johannesburg, Gwangju and Seoul (South Korea), Yokohama (Japan), Sao Paolo (South America), and Istanbul (Turkey).

Location can actually play a pivotal role in exciting new ways of looking at art and life. It was hoped, for example, that the first and second Johannesburg Biennials (1995, 1997) would help restore a dialogue between black and white South Africans in the aftermath of apartheid.

South African artist Tracey Rose was featured at the second Johannesburg Biennial where her work became a famous performance.  Sitting naked in an open showcase pretending to plait and weave her recently shaved off hair, Rose raised a host of racial and gender issues concerning women’s labor practices in a male dominated world. This spectacle also seemed to address preconceived notions about the female body.

Other Biennials, like the one held in Istanbul (2009) help establish cities as vibrant centers for art and political discussion. Turkey’s admittance into the EU was a controversial topic Romanian artist, Dan Periovshi chose for his political cartoons – which he often drew in front of large audiences.

In fact, art stimulating public discussion is an anticipated feature of Biennials.  Such was also the case when the Grand Canal of Venice became the provocative backdrop for Russian artist Alexander Ponomarev’s Sub Tiziano. Shaking up contrasts between an historical public space and his creation of a brightly colored, armored submarine which was partly submerged in the Grand Canal, Ponomarev expected the public would be shocked. But after their initial reaction, people came to see the submarine as just part of the environment.

British artist Steve McQueen’s film, Giardini is acommentary about life in the Giardini (the site of the Biennial in Venice) in winter without artists or visitors. In it, McQueen presents a deserted and trashed hostile environment, absent of life aside from stray dogs and homeless people. Far-off cheers from a soccer stadium was the only suggestion that life had moved on to another location along with the seasonal change.

These kinds of provocative artistic renderings spawns cross cultural, international, local and national dialogues as they create shared experiences and connections between the curators who organize the show, the artists and the public.

Creating connections seemed to be what Argentinean artist Tomas Saraceno had in mind with his piece, Galaxies Forming along Filament, Like Droplets along the Strands of a Spider’s Web. This massive, room-spanning architectural web of geometrical shapes and spheres within spheres created out of cables was on exhibit at the Biennial in Venice. Viewers could enter the space and move over, under and around the cables. While exploring the great maze that is his work, the public became part of his complex world design.