Bright, flashing displays of wealth and luxury lit up the room around me, and loud music filled the space. I turned my back to the installation by Guerreiro do Divino Amor to see hoards of guests who had flocked from all over the globe to see this—the 2024 Venice Biennale. Work still new to the contemporary art world surrounded us, and our only task was to explore it.
My classmates and I, who had just spent several hours in various airports across the United States, gathered outside in the humid Italian air, ready to explore the rest of the Giardini. Our urgency was fueled, in part, by the desire to escape the flocks of pigeons and seagulls – the noisy birds seemed to follow us wherever we went.
We strolled down the rocky roads, visiting work representing Britain, France, Germany, Hungary, Japan, Denmark, Brazil, and on and on until we couldn't help but make our way to the nearest restaurant – ready to stuff ourselves with pasta, Aperol spritz and the second mouth-watering gelato of the day.
Our feet ached as we trekked back to the Combo Venezia, our home for the next two weeks. Outside the walls of our monastery-turned-hotel, dozens of children play soccer. Their excited shouts echoed in the small courtyard, letting passersbys know another goal had been scored. The sounds became familiar as each night we sat in the courtyard and looked over our notes from that day's adventure.
Despite the fatigue that lingered over the group for the next two weeks, our excitement about exploring beautiful, historic landmarks like St. Mark's Basilica, the Doge's palace and the Academia, kept us going. Even as I rode off towards the airport in a small, crammed boat, I knew I would be coming back to this place, someday.