“I imagine most participants view the national pavilion structure critically. It becomes bitterly clear that not all do, however, when countries breaching international law continue to participate for soft power”
ArtReview sent a questionnaire to artists and curators exhibiting in and curating the various national pavilions of the 2026 Venice Biennale, the responses to which will be published daily in the leadup to and during the Venice Biennale, which runs from 9 May through 22 November.
Jenna Sutela is representing Finland; the pavilion is in the Giardini.
ArtReview Tell ArtReview what you plan to exhibit in Venice. What has influenced or inspired you?
Jenna Sutela I can only say so much at this point, but it’s sound sculptures that engage in some kind of strange theatre. It’s a windscape. The exhibition is called Aeolian Suite. At the core is a composition using meteorological data and musical instruments (wind machines, alto, basset and contrabass recorders – and a children’s woodwind orchestra), as well as recordings of winds from Venice, Helsinki and beyond. A singing bridge, clotheslines, sailboat masts and poplar trees.
I came to the topic through my original instrument, the flute, as well as recent sculptural work on wind-driven or aeolian instruments. And Venice felt like the right place for this. It’s already a stage for the drama of winds that are closely observed, meteorologically, to prepare for the acqua alta. Winds are also emotionally present in local stories – the melancholic Scirocco, or the limerent, maddening Boras. Venice has always had an artificial nature: a city that shouldn’t exist in that location, maintained through constant engineering. So weather is infrastructure and politics, and this feels like a sign of the times in the climate crisis era. The work addresses this condition.
I’m experimenting with noise. Beyond the reference to unwanted sound, noise is interesting because of its position between contingency and control, sense and senselessness. Wind on the microphone creates noise, interference. But the same wind that interferes with our recording is also what makes sound possible at all – in a vacuum, there’s no sound. Information becomes noise when it’s so abundant that it loses meaning. My work attempts to sense meaning in that chaos, finding new frequencies.
AR In what ways (if at all) does your work relate to the theme of the Biennale exhibition, In Minor Keys?
JS As it turns out, there’s actually a lot of shared ground. The title Aeolian Suite refers to the natural minor scale, or the aeolian mode in music. Beyond that, it’s about the idea of a suite, a set of compositions, things that follow together, a sequence. Or the suite as an architectural space. The curator Koyo Kouoh described the exhibition as tuned in to the minor keys. She talked about “listening that calls on the emotions and sustains them in return.” All of this resonates with me. One of the artists in the main exhibition is Pauline Oliveros, whose work I love. Her deep listening is about paying conscious attention to all sounds, including environmental sounds that might normally be filtered out. Hers is a meditative practice that brings you to the present moment through sound. My work, too, is an exercise in listening differently.
AR Why is the Venice Biennale still important, if at all?
JS I don’t know. It’s still one of the main art events in Europe and some of my favourite artists and many colleagues are participating. The Finnish Pavilion is regularly selected through an open call – taking part in that call is just something one does. And the Biennale is this supposedly fun thing to do, which has also turned out quite overwhelming. I’m glad we’re getting to realize our proposal with Stefanie Hessler and a trusted team, and to work in a building I really appreciate. That said, the wider context, especially with recent political developments, is increasingly difficult to navigate.
AR What role does a national pavilion play at a time of increasing confrontational nationalisms? Is it about expressing difference or commonality?
JS I asked Frame Contemporary Art Finland, the commissioner of the pavilion, and they said they’re “not focused on national expression but on presenting internationally relevant work realised through artistic freedom”. I mean, I live abroad and work with a multinational team. I imagine most participants view the national pavilion structure critically. It becomes bitterly clear that not all do, however, when countries breaching international law continue to participate for soft power.
Alvar and Aino Aalto’s 1956 pavilion architecture feels relevant here. The building was originally conceived as a mobile structure, meant to travel around the Mediterranean. It ended up staying but was rented out to other countries for many years after the Nordic Pavilion was completed in 1962. I think relation is what should be expressed, mondialité instead of mondialisation.
AR Who, for you, is the most important artist (in any discipline) that your country has produced?
JS There are so many. Off the top of my head, and this is such a cliché to say, but I’ve been thinking about Tove Jansson’s book Moominpappa at Sea [1965] recently. In particular, the protagonist’s difficult relationship with an indifferent force of nature and the shift in the story from Moominpappa trying to master the sea to just being with it. So I can’t help mentioning the Moomins. I mean I grew up with them – also the Japanese children’s animation from the 1990s – but what I think is particularly interesting about the Moomins is how they started out as a political cartoon touching on anarchic, even psychedelic themes. The cast of characters living communally in Moominvalley inherited their personalities and appearances from Jansson’s circle of friends, many of whom were part of the cultural scene in Finland. The Moomins introduce alternative lifestyles and redefine, rename and reinvent the surrounding context all the time. On the music side, one formative influence – another classic – was Tommi Grönlund and Mika Vainio’s record label Sähkö.
AR What is something you want people to know about your nation that they might not know already?
JS We found out that fresh peas eaten from the pods is the best summer snack. I always wonder why this is not really a thing elsewhere, from what I know.
AR Given that you are exhibiting in a national pavilion, is there something (a quality or an issue or attitude) that distinguishes the art of that nation from that of others? That makes it particular? Are there specific contexts that it responds to? Or do you think that art is a universal language that goes beyond social, political or geographic boundaries?
JS It’s important to recognize the multiplicity of identities and art in Finland (or anywhere). I’m thinking about the distinct and marginalized Sámi art histories across the Sápmi region, as one example, or just the increasingly international local art scene. So there’s no one answer but many. And maybe that multiplicity is already an answer to the universality question.
AR What, other than art, are you looking forward to seeing – or doing – while you are in Venice?
JS Does music count? I’d finally like to visit the Luigi Nono Archive.
AR Could you give us a brief overview of your average working day while creating your presentation in Venice?
JS Almost every day has been different. A lot of life has happened alongside. The work is a whole production, involving many people from musicians to a hair artist and a scenographer. One day could be spent recording or inside a session, another one cutting hair, dyeing fabrics, and choreographing sculptures. My studio team, Vanda Skácalová and Beth von Undall, and I have been working in a forest of speakers and cables and all kinds of stuff for many months now. This project has involved more communication than usual.
AR Can art really change the world?
JS No, but it can imagine viable other worlds. I’m citing Federico Campagna here, who recently wrote a book on this topic [Otherworlds: Mediterranean Lessons On Escaping History, 2025]. He argues that amid the multiple crises defining our present, despair comes from thinking this world is all there is. We need genuinely other ways of being. This is not about escapism but about expanding the sense of what’s possible and living it.
The 61st Venice Biennale runs 9 May through 22 November 2026
