Against all odds, a Ukrainian artist and his curators bring ‘Fountain of Exhaustion’ to Venice

On the evening of February 24, just hours after Russia launched its full-scale attack on Ukraine, art curator Maria Lanko got into her car and left her home in Kiev. Not sure of her exact plan and with a potentially dangerous journey ahead of her, she packed only a few personal items in her suitcase, along with 78 bronze funnels from one of the country’s foremost living artists, Pavlo Makov. Her mission was to get them out of the country to safety.

Last summer, 63-year-old Makov and his team of curators – including Lanko – had won a chance to represent Ukraine at the Venice Biennale, a prestigious international event known as the art world’s “Olympic Games”. The funnels were crucial parts of their proposed entry, a water fountain sculpture called the “Fountain of Exhaustion.”

The artwork was first conceived in Kharkov, a city in northeastern Ukraine, where Makov has lived and worked for more than three decades. It was the mid-1990s and the post-Soviet country was still going through a period of transition after the population voted for independence in a 1991 referendum. The fountain was intended as a metaphor for the social and political exhaustion Makov witnessed as his country grappled with the civic and economic challenges of rebuilding an independent state. Constant water shortages in the city also inspired him to look at the project from an ecological perspective, while reflecting on the idea that resources are finite.

Over the years, “Fountain of Exhaustion” has taken many forms, from sketches and prints to technical drawings and physical installations. The version planned for Venice would be the first fully functioning fountain, with the 78 funnels mounted so that the initial flow of water divides over and over as it makes its way through the triangular arrangement, weakening the flow until it reaches its peak. the bottom.

The week before Russia invaded Ukraine, Makov and his team conducted a test on the newly built fountain to make sure the water was flowing properly. Thanks to the design and technical assistance of Forma (ФОРМА), an architectural firm in Kiev, the installation worked. The team was delighted.

Soon after, everything changed. As the threat of conflict mounted, giving the team time to consider contingency plans, the sudden attack on Ukraine made it seem impossible to unveil the installation in Venice, which was less than two months away.

The journey from Ukraine to Italy

Personal safety was the team’s priority in the early days of the conflict, as they scrambled through escape and shelter plans with family and friends. One of Lanko’s co-curators, Lizaveta German, was heavily pregnant and living in an apartment in Kiev when the war started. Just days away from her due date when the first rockets were launched, German wanted to stay in the city to be close to her maternity ward. But as the situation worsened, she and her husband made the difficult decision to move west to Lviv, the cultural capital of Ukraine, a city less directly threatened. There she was joined by Borys Filonenko, the third co-curator of the project.

Lanko, meanwhile, was still driving. After six days on the road, the 78 funnels crammed into three boxes, she crossed the border into Romania. Later, exhausted from the almost constant travel, she made a rest in Budapest, Hungary, before finally landing in the Austrian capital of Vienna.

There she waited for Makov, who was working on his own evacuation plan. He had been in Kharkov when the war started, gathering his family in his apartment for the first two days. But the city was bombed so badly that they were forced into a bomb shelter for almost a week, and as the situation worsened, the artist decided to flee and drive out of the city with his 92-year-old mother, his wife and two other women.

German gave birth to a baby boy on March 16 in Lviv. Ten days later, she spoke to DailyExpertNews at a hotel in the city about the role of art in times of extreme crisis. “I really believe that art has this symbolic potential to celebrate people’s lives and to show that we’re still here — to show that Ukraine is not just a victim of war,” she said.

At that point, Lanko had reached Italy. She found a production company in Milan that agreed to recreate the parts of the installation she had left behind in Ukraine.

Suddenly it looked like – against all odds – they would make it to Venice. There was also a growing awareness among the team members that they had to act as ambassadors for their country. While their fellow Ukrainians fought on the front lines against Russia, served in hospitals and took on volunteer duties, Makov and his team began to mount a different kind of defense against the invasion.

“Ukrainian art has been overshadowed by Russia for a very long time,” German said, holding her baby close to her chest. “The cultural field must also be a battleground, and we must fight.”

Weeks later, Lanko, Filonenko, Makov and German (with her baby) were finally reunited in Venice to make final preparations together.

Attention ‘paid by blood’

Speaking on Monday, two days before the press unveiling of the project, Makov said he saw himself not as an artist, but rather as a citizen of Ukraine whose duty it is to represent his country.

“I realized it would be important for Ukraine to be represented (at the Biennale).”

Nikita Kadan ‘Difficulties of Profanation II’ (2015-2022) with Lesia Khomenko’s “Max in the army” in the background Credit: Pat Verbruggen/Courtesy Pinchuk Art Center and Victor Pinchuk Foundation

With an influx of interest from the media and the art world, the sculpture, once a broad reflection on how the world has exhausted itself, took on a new meaning. It had become a piece of “war art” by default — and being in the spotlight was difficult for the team. “It’s kind of paid for in blood,” Lanko said.

“We embrace all the attention because we understand that at this point we are the ‘speakers’ – the ambassadors of our country and of our culture,” she continued, explaining that she hopes the conversation around the pavilion can enhance Ukrainian art. appeal in general.

A message from the president

Further afield, in a building about a 30-minute walk from the main Biennale site, is also an exhibition of work created by Ukrainian artists in recent weeks. It is a powerful reminder of the many creative people affected by the war, and another example of the determination and resilience of Ukrainian artists.

An earlier paper version of ‘Fountain of Exhaustion’ (1995) Credit: Thanks to Pavlo Makov

One such artist, Lesia Khomenko, shows a series of large-scale portraits called “Max in the army”, which she named after one of her subjects – her husband, Max, who joined the military resistance. In another work, “Difficulties of Profanation II” by Nikkita Kadan, large pieces of shrapnel and debris – collected from Donbas in 2015 during the last Russian attack on Ukraine, and then from Kiev in 2022 – hang from a frame.

Speaking at the exhibition’s opening event, Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelensky said via video, “Art can tell the world things that cannot otherwise be shared,” while urging the public to support his country with art, words and their “influence.”

The exhibition’s curator, Björn Geldhof, orchestrated the exhibition in just four weeks. While walking around the space, he said, “Creating in wartime isn’t easy. But that’s one of the things we wanted to do is show the incredible resilience that Ukrainian contemporary artists have.”

This strength of character was fully on display in the Ukrainian Pavilion on opening day. A press conference to mark the unveiling began with a moment of silence for the people of Ukraine. And while media and visitors continued to suggest that the team behind the installation are heroes, Makov and his curators dispelled platitudes by reminding people that the real heroes are the ones on the battlefield, in hospitals, and in besieged areas.

Pavlo Makov and his team of curators (Lizaveta German, Maria Lanko and Borys Filonenko) alongside Kateryna Chueva, Deputy Minister of Culture and Information Policy of Ukraine and Ilya Zabolotnyi, Head of the Ukrainian Emergency Fund for Art Credit: Courtesy Ukraine Pavilion, 2022 Venice Biennale

The team was also measured in its assessment of art’s ability to end conflict. “I always say that art is more of a diagnosis than a medicine,” Makov said. “I’m not sure it can save the world, you know? But it can help save the world.”

Weeks before, Lanko had expressed similar views: “Art won’t stop the war now, but it may stop the next,” she said.

For German, the “Fountain of Exhaustion” is not a symbol of optimism, but she believes the fact that they got it in Venice at all “gives hope” and shows Ukraine’s ability to move forward in the darkest of times.

“Even though the war is still going on, we are able to build our future.”