Pietrangelo Buttafuoco

The deeper essence permeating every Department of La Biennale, expressed with singular intensity at the Mostra Internazionale d’Arte Cinematografica, consists in its support for artistic quality with an eye to the future: the true spirit of art. It is no coincidence that this is a Mostra, an Exhibition, and not a festival. It is in this perspective that, thanks to the structure of Biennale Cinema, the Mostra has chosen a more open and active approach.
A passing of light clouds—that’s how I like to imagine it—leading us towards hope, towards a clear, deep blue sky. The Lido is increasingly becoming a fixture for new generations. Alongside the regular audience—specialists, Venetian enthusiasts, and film buffs from around the world—what strikes and gratifies us is the constant growth of a younger one.
The numbers speak for themselves: 2,300 accredited university students. This is tangible evidence of an increasingly larger and more passionate film community. This new audience, surprisingly fond of such an old Exhibition, knows how to welcome the great Italian and international classics with a lively, participatory gaze. And we could also see it in the packed masterclasses, true life lessons where artists and authors engage directly with the young.
Signs of a cultural vitality extending beyond cinema and encompassing all aspects of La Biennale: art, architecture, theatre, music, dance. And, of course, its Historical Archive, which contributes every day to building up this institution. The presence of a young audience is an important, precious phenomenon, to be encouraged with care and responsibility.
La Biennale intends to accompany the delicate yet essential transition of talents who wish to make it a profession, offering tools and opportunities for emerging artists. With this in mind, alongside the Biennale College system, active in every discipline, we recently launched Biennale College Blend: a new programme involving all Artistic Departments and promoting the creation of hybrid works, not tied to a single language, but capable of crossing disciplinary boundaries. What’s more, the Ministry of Education and Merit signed a memorandum of understanding to promote awareness of contemporary arts, and cinema in particular, among the younger generations.

And it is with profound enthusiasm—far beyond satisfaction—that we announce the opening, next year, of the new, grand headquarters of the Historical Archive of La Biennale di Venezia, in an independent set of buildings inside the Arsenale: a place of research, experimentation, and production, designed especially for young people, who will come here to do their “apprenticeships” as they would have done in the past to learn a trade. Because believing in these projects means investing in the future. It’s like planting a tree and watching a forest of artists grow. But this faith, this trust, requires courage. It is a bold belief.
The Mostra, under the watchful guidance of director Alberto Barbera, shows us every year that dreams can become reality. With its surprises, it continues to confirm that art can become knowledge, that boldness can be rewarded, and that a poetics can be forged in this “workshop” that is awake to the world, even to the most painfully current one. This faith— transfused into art—is what gives water to the thirsty, offers shelter to those who have lost their homes, restores truth to those who have known only lies.
Cinema reaches where the news does not. Where resignation reigns, art restores consciousness. And it does so for all of us with our heads buried in the sand of indifference. During the intense days of the Biennale Architettura in the Arsenale, as I was concentrating on my own work while also observing the work of others, I happened to listen to the rehearsals and lyrics of a well-known song by Franco Battiato: Povera Patria (Poor Homeland), from 1991.
And it struck me deeply. Because that line “Ma non vi danno un po’ di dispiacere quei corpi in terra senza più calore?” (Don’t those bodies on the ground no longer warm make you feel a little sorry?) sounds even more tragic today, in light of the images we keep seeing on our smartphone screens.
It has become habit. And habit, as we know, is the enemy of conscience. La Biennale’s work, especially that carried out by Alberto Barbera, continues to fuel that furnace of conscience that makes us active citizens, participants in a thinking community, whose big sky—to quote the poster designed by Manuele Fior for Venezia 82—is freedom.