Shocking Truth Revealed: ‘Taking Venice’ Exposes 1964 Venice Biennale Scandal!

While the Venice Biennale may not shine as brightly as it once did, given the rise of many other international art events, it still holds significant sway in the art world. A successful showing at this long-standing Italian exhibition, which is currently in its 60th run, can still bolster an artist’s career. However, it no longer has the transformative power it once held, with its impact perhaps most apparent in 1964.

In that year, Robert Rauschenberg, at the age of 38, became the first American artist to be awarded the esteemed Grand Prize for Painting, now known as the Golden Lion. The announcement sparked outrage, with one newspaper even decrying it as “Treason in Venice.”

Such an award going to an American artist who had hinted at the controversial Pop Art movement a decade earlier marked a significant shift: New York was now considered the leading hub of cultural influence, supplanting Paris. The European press, particularly in France, portrayed this as a scandal, suggesting foul play was involved.

Amei Wallach’s new documentary, “Taking Venice,” explores this pivotal moment in art history. The film doesn’t take a stance on whether Rauschenberg’s selection was tainted by dishonesty but does emphasize his deserving of the honor. However, this framing hinders what could have been a more insightful look at a key historical moment.

The original “scandal” was fueled by conspiracy theories, but the behind-the-scenes maneuvering for the prize was actually par for the course. When an unexpected event like the Biennale’s American “first” occurs, conspiracy theories often arise to make sense of what seems inexplicable. They provide a semblance of rationality in an unpredictable world.

For those who couldn’t accept that Paris, the birthplace of Picasso, Matisse, Miro, Brancusi, and even Duchamp, had been dethroned by a supposedly uncouth, Texas-born artist who used commercial images of President Kennedy and phallic rocket ships in his work, Rauschenberg’s recognition was a hard pill to swallow. This led to an outcry that a cultural crime had been committed, and conspiracies began to flourish.

The actual events leading up to the prize are complex. Wallach cleverly structures the film around four main figures, starting with “The Artist,” Rauschenberg. His artistic journey is briefly outlined.

Then there’s “The Dealer,” Leo Castelli, a charming Italian expat in New York who was instrumental in the rise of American Pop Art, including Rauschenberg. His understanding of European fascination with democratic capitalism, represented by Pop’s commercial images and post-war reliance on American goods, was pivotal. The fact that his Romanian ex-wife, Ileana Sonnabend, operated a gallery in Paris certainly helped.

“The Insider” is Alice Denney, a Washington, D.C., art connoisseur and wife of a State Department lawyer. She was close to the Kennedy family and played a crucial role in securing government support for the privately run American Pavilion in Venice. Whenever logistical help was needed, such as transporting large-scale art across the Atlantic, Denney was there to make it happen.

Last but not least, “The Commissioner” who organized the American presence at the Biennale was Alan Solomon. Solomon, an erudite connoisseur of new art’s European history, had transformed Manhattan’s Jewish Museum into a hub for avant-garde art during his brief tenure as director. At the time of his death in 1970, he was chairing the cutting-edge art department at UC Irvine.

The film successfully lays out the intricacies of preparing for the Venice presentation, with due credit given to the cultural context contributing to the ensuing uproar.

Several factors played into the controversy. Rauschenberg’s work was dubbed “anti-art,” inspired by Dadaism. The sponsoring U.S. government had clear Cold War propaganda interests. The American Pavilion was too small to accommodate Solomon’s show, leading to rule-breaking use of an annex. The expansion of U.S. military presence in Indochina under President Lyndon B. Johnson was met with international resistance. And there were many more elements adding fuel to the fire.

However, these were just the ingredients. The spark came from Solomon. As the jury grappled with their decision behind closed doors, Solomon held a press conference and released a bold statement, implying that the Biennale risked becoming irrelevant.

Rauschenberg’s ultimate selection gave everyone something to argue about. The artist himself was pleased but apprehensive, later deciding to destroy all the silk screens he used for his exhibited paintings. Looking back, he remarked on the pressure that came with his newfound fame, suggesting that perhaps he had been “too lucky.”

Despite the film’s somewhat melodramatic music, there’s no evidence of a conspiracy. The vote-trading appears more like standard practice, which is intriguing in its own right. Conspiracy theories, propagated by the internet and social media, have become commonplace today. This makes “Taking Venice” seem somewhat old-fashioned.

Much of the film’s factual basis was clearly derived from “The Great Migrator: Robert Rauschenberg and the Global Rise of American Art,” a critically acclaimed 2010 book by art historian Hiroko Ikegami. The film occasionally veers off into unrelated tangents, making its 98-minute runtime feel a bit excessive.

Nonetheless, the story it tells is an important one. A significant shift did indeed happen. The narrative is well-executed and worth hearing, even without the hint of conspiracy.

A preview of the film is scheduled for Thursday at the UCLA Hammer Museum, followed by a Q&A with the director. Wallach will do the same on Friday and Saturday nights at the Laemmle Royal in West L.A., where the film opens for a one-week run.