The 2026 edition of the Venice Biennale has opened with a mix of controversy, political debate and large-scale experimental installations, as artists across Venice use performance, sound, sculpture and archival work to address themes ranging from war and surveillance to technology and public memory.

Spread across the Giardini, Arsenale and dozens of satellite venues, this year’s biennale has drawn attention not only for its official exhibitions but also for the reactions they have provoked from governments, visitors and even local police.Among the most discussed works is the Austrian pavilion by Florentina Holzinger, whose immersive performance installation transformed the national pavilion into a chaotic post-apocalyptic environment.

The performance opened with Holzinger suspended upside down from the clappers of a large bell while performers moved through the space naked. One woman repeatedly drove a speedboat in circles inside the pavilion, while others balanced high above visitors or remained submerged in water tanks.The installation also incorporated functioning toilets connected to a filtration system intended to purify visitors’ urine and redirect it into a large water tank.

Nearby sections of the exhibition appeared deliberately engineered to resemble flooding or sewage failure, creating an atmosphere of collapse and instability. During one viewing, police officers entered the pavilion to question the nature of the performance after complaints or confusion from attendees.

The Austrian pavilion quickly became one of the central talking points of the biennale’s opening week, reinforcing Holzinger’s reputation for physically extreme and confrontational live art.Elsewhere in Venice, painter Sanya Kantarovsky presented “Basic Failure” inside the historic Palazzo Loredan.

Kantarovsky, born in Moscow before emigrating to the United States as a child, filled the palazzo’s ornate interiors with psychologically tense paintings that resemble still frames from unresolved narratives.

The exhibition pairs unsettling domestic imagery with the grandeur of Venetian interiors lined with books and Murano glass chandeliers. The show culminates in a detailed Murano glass sculpture of a young boy’s head, creating what visitors described as a dialogue between contemporary anxiety and historical opulence.

Political tensions surrounding this year’s biennale were particularly visible in the case of South African artist Gabrielle Goliath. Goliath had originally been expected to participate officially before South African authorities blocked the presentation of her work “Elegy”, describing it as divisive because it referenced a Palestinian poet.Despite the decision, Goliath proceeded with an independent presentation at the Chiesa di Sant’Antonin in collaboration with arts organisation Ibraaz.

The performance features classically trained female vocalists sustaining single notes until their voices fade before being replaced by another performer.Originally conceived in 2015, the work functions as a ritual mourning piece dedicated to women killed through racialised and sexualised violence. Visitors described the installation as one of the most emotionally direct works outside the biennale’s central exhibition.

At the Arsenale, American artist Carrie Schneider contributed one of the most visually expansive works in the main exhibition “In Minor Keys.” Schneider’s installation stretches across approximately 1.5 kilometres of photographic material derived from repeated stills of La Jetée by Chris Marker.The scale of the installation stood out inside the industrial spaces of the Arsenale, where several works struggled to compete with the architecture’s vast dimensions.

Other notable contributions included photographic archives from Francophone Africa by Akinbode Akinbiyi and documentary material addressing destruction and displacement in Gaza.British-Algerian artist Lydia Ourahmane presented one of the quieter but widely praised exhibitions at the Nicoletta Fiorucci Foundation. Her project “5 Works” incorporates materials and labour drawn entirely from Venice itself.

The installation includes a newly constructed wooden pier intended for future public use, a curtain made of Murano glass beads assembled by inmates from the Giudecca women’s prison, and a modified church lighting mechanism activated through the insertion of a one-euro coin.Questions surrounding surveillance and state power appear prominently in “Canicula,” a film exhibition at the Complesso dell’Ospedaletto.

Lebanese-British artist Lawrence Abu Hamdan contributed “450XL: the Story of a Fugitive Sound,” an investigation into allegations that Serbian authorities used sonic devices to disperse peaceful anti-government demonstrators.Installed inside the former hospital’s historic music room, the work combines witness testimony, sound analysis and multi-screen projections arranged like protest placards.

The war in Ukraine also remains a major presence at the biennale. The Ukrainian pavilion features a large concrete deer sculpture by Zhanna Kadyrova that was transported from Pokrovsk in eastern Ukraine after difficult evacuation efforts during the conflict.Video footage documents the sculpture’s journey through Europe as refugees from Pokrovsk encounter the work in transit. Pokrovsk is now under Russian military control, giving the installation additional political and emotional weight.

Technology and artificial intelligence appear prominently inside the Chinese pavilion at the Arsenale, where artists explored the relationship between machines and creativity. Works include robotic calligraphy, digitally generated landscapes and interactive installations inspired by Chinese mythology and gaming culture.

One of the final installations in the pavilion is a field of “digital chairs” by Chinese designer Zhang Zhoujie, offering visitors a place to rest after navigating the biennale’s large-scale exhibitions.Away from official installations, one of the unexpected attractions of the opening week emerged outside the Polish pavilion, where a nesting gull drew crowds of confused visitors unsure whether the bird itself formed part of an artwork.

The gull, enclosed behind a temporary white fence, quickly became an informal symbol of the biennale’s blend of performance, ambiguity and public spectacle.