81(andso,perhaps,thequestionofhow,whyandto
what ends we might be moved by it).
Mitchell involves the data he has gathered in a
system that offers up two main enjoyable ironies. For
one, the computer printer operates on an altar-like
support in an empty library, slowly churning paper
onto the floor in a parodic instantiation of the hard
copy, of old media; the odd chaos of information
in the lists a kind of stand-in, forming a hopelessly
unusable archive. For another, the WiFi routers (and
audio speakers at the pavilion) are built into fake
pines, camouflaged cell towers. Under the veneer of
deadpan that they have as ready-made objects within
his dominant tasteful, impersonal, clean-cut aesthetic,
there is a prankish humour. Like Wyle E. Coyote in
a cactus suit, their attempt at disguise is comically
unconvincing; not least because Venice is short on
vegetation; as a clutch of artificial islands, itself an
imitation of nature.
Loss as a theme, though, is on the face of it as
earnest as they come. In a moment when it is hard
to escape the gathering momentum of trouble in
the world, is it as kitsch as it seems as a bid for
relevance? It is not just Venice that is sinking. The
Artistic Director of this year’s event, American Ralph
Rugoff, calls his show May You Live In Interesting
Times, acknowledging that we are indeed so cursed.
Numerous significant works throughout the Biennale
return to the unavoidable horror of the climate crisis,
and everything it connects to: the unfolding extinction
event, and compounding factors such as the global
resurgence of fascism.
The hardest question to ask of Post Hoc, but one it
clearly sets itself up for, is what it offers in the face of
these realities.
In framing and commentary, the work’s lists are
glossed as concerning the ‘lost’ or ‘unseen’, but that
they elude precise generalisation is their crux. Shorter
lists—of such abstractions, or of examples—belie the
way that family resemblances between their categories
multiply and stretch the senses of any summarising
term. The disused, the unaccounted for, the censored,
the extinct, the abandoned, the obsolete, the cancelled,
the decommissioned, failures, hauntings, resting
places, and so on: their whole is really no one thing.
The full list of titles is rehearsed daily, before the
computer moves on to the next individual list or lists.
It is printed up as a giveaway poster, and interleaved
with the essays in the cardboard-covered catalogue.
Some titles seem subtly crafted for poignance. On
closer inspection they reveal a tension between a
position-less position, a genericism or arbitrariness—
that helps them stack up to an impressive scale, a
generous expanse of data—and a deliberately stylish
and controlled relationship to Mitchell’s previous
work and the situation in which Post Hoc is presented.
Mentions of New Zealand stand out in the context
of a national representation, for example, sometimes
an item in the middle of a list, sometimes as one of its
parameters. Perfumes, because Mitchell has exhibited
fragrances. Closed libraries, for one thing, because, as(opposite) Dane Mitchell’s Post Hoc, offsite at the Università Iuav di
Venezia, New Zealand at Venice, 58th International Art Exhibition
La Biennale di Venezia
(below) DANE MITCHELL Post Hoc—detail 2019
Mixed media installation
(New Zealand Pavilion, 58th International Art Exhibition La
Biennale di Venezia)