Remember the unusual boat I posted a photo of back in June? It’s parked right next to the entrance to the Biennale gardens, which immediately made me think it was probably related to the Biennale (as did the fact that it was out of place and weird, as Biennale things always are). Here’s a picture:


Sure enough, a little research led me to discover that it’s the Biennale bid of the Union of Comoros (a collection of islands off the east coast of Africa, north of Madagascar), and according to this article, it’s a boat rescued from the bottom of the sea at the Comorian capital of Moroni. This kind of boat, known as a djahazi, had been traditionally used for cargo transport in the Comoros for hundreds of years, and until only very recently they have also been used to move small shipping containers between the islands.

You can read more about it here, at the website of the artist, Paolo Tamburella. It’s a shame you have to find out about it online, though – there’s no plaque or anything located near the boat itself, so people are left guessing. One afternoon on my walk home, I was following some tourists who, walking by, speculated as to what purpose the boat served. Their initial guess (“Biennale”) was correct, but then one of them pointed out that it might actually have nothing to do with the Biennale at all, and could just be “some fisherman’s boat with the catch of the day” (honestly, though, a shipping container?). Still, it’s a bad sign when your contribution to the world’s foremost contemporary art exhibition is mistaken for some mundane aspect of Venetian life…

Anyway, as I walked home from work last night, I noticed that the djahazi had sunk, and the shipping container had mysteriously disappeared:



Actually, I’d observed that the boat had been troubled recently. The line of Comorian flags visible in the first picture have been missing for at least a month, and the wakes (moto ondoso) from passing boats have been giving it quite a battering, too, partially tearing it from its moorings on more than one occasion and causing it to threaten the nearby vaporetto route.

It reminds me of something Fabio said, about how, during the five or so months of the Biennale, you really get a chance to see which exhibits are well-made and capable of withstanding the wear and tear of exposure to the Venetian climate, tourists, and art afficionados. Obviously, this one wasn’t. I’m not willing to entirely rule out that the sinking wasn’t on purpose, but I’d say there’s a pretty good chance it wasn’t part of the artist’s vision – who wants their hard work lying on the bottom of the lagoon, especially when you’ve spent large sums to unsink it in the first place?

Fabio also said that many artists/countries neglect to fully develop a “disposal” plan, for what to do with the art after the Biennale ends. He said that artists often plan to donate it to the City of Venice (how generous). But of course, Venice doesn’t want it (where could they possibly store/display hundreds of new pieces of art every two years?), and the city would much rather have the artists take it home with them. No matter what, I’m sure Venice isn’t going to let Paolo Tamburella leave his djahazi sunk at the pier when the Biennale ends in November.