Lunar Ensemble for Uprising Seas (2023), Petrit Halilaj and Álvaro Urbano’s spectacular new installation, features more than 40 sculptural works set within the equally spectacular deconsecrated Chiesa di San Lorenzo in Venice, now called Ocean Space. Imaginary hybrids of aquatic, terrestrial, and aerial creatures—all assembled beneath an egg-shaped moon—double as musical instruments, exploring the idea of cohesion and resistance between different species and between living organisms and objects. When the sculptures are activated by performers, their voices come together to blend the not easily harmonized combination of underwater sounds and a “melody” inspired by a popular Spanish song. Lunar Ensemble for Uprising Seas, co-commissioned by TBA21–Academy and Audemars Piguet Contemporary, is part of “Thus waves come in pairs,” an exhibition that also includes the monumental ceramic and glass sculptures of Simone Fattal.
Robert Preece: The sculptures in Lunar Ensemble for Uprising Seas were inspired by a Spanish song in which young fish attend school at the bottom of the sea to learn about survival and belonging. Could you explain its relation to the installation?
Álvaro Urbano: “¡Ay! mi pescadito” is a song that my grandmother used to sing to me when I was a child. She referred to me as a fish. This is one of my earliest memories. It was the starting point and a personal connection to something that became a collective inquiry into the relationship that we wanted to imagine among hybrid aquatic, aerial, and terrestrial sculptures, raising questions about the present and attempting to amplify and rehearse queer futures to come.
RP: How did the interior of the former church affect your thinking in regard to the planning, making, and layout of the works?
Petrit Halilaj: We both love working with visually powerful spaces that have a complex history. When we were planning and conceiving this installation, it was important for us to consider the historical significance and the unique atmosphere that the church holds. One aspect that became central in the early stages of our brainstorming was the exploration of sound and its resonance within that space. From the very beginning, we saw the church as a vast music box, with acoustic qualities that could be harnessed to enhance the overall experience. Discussions and experimentation surrounding this aspect were particularly engaging, as we sought to create a harmonious relationship between the visual and auditory elements, transforming the space into an immersive and multisensory environment. Creating a maquette helped us to visualize the spatial dynamics and to experiment with them before pinning down the final installation.
RP: Each sculpture also doubles as a musical instrument. Did this add a layer of complexity, and how did you make it work?
PH: The process of creating the works was a constant dialogue between the imaginary shapes and formal aspects that we envisaged for the sculptures and the sounds that they could create as instruments. The trumpet-like instrument had to transform into an imagined marine creature, but it also had to be able to make audible sound. This made the process very interesting and new for us.
For months, the studio became a place that produced crazy sounds. Eventually, we were able to adjust the final composition, leveraging the qualities and restrictions of each object. It was a constant conversation, leaving a margin for change until the end. In future iterations, the activation will change and adapt to the local musicians we encounter in each place. The performative aspect is a crucial element in the activation of the sculptures as instruments.
RP: What brought you to the suspended egg-shaped sculpture? Were you looking at art historical references?
AU: The egg sculpture resembles a moon when viewed from below, and it acts as an organizing force for the placement of each element across the composition. As we know, the moon regulates the tides; it is also a symbol of new beginnings. There are many such ambiguities in the installation—sculptures that are also instruments, fish that may sound like birds. All of these creatures are caught in a state of transformation. In terms of historical references, one image that came to mind at the beginning was the pendant egg in Piero della Francesca’s Montefeltro Altarpiece in the Brera (1472). Our project re-contextualizes the idea of the egg within notions of queer family and social structures—our object is an egg-shaped moon; it looks earthy, giant. It claims space in the rehearsal of different futures.
RP: How long have you been collaborating? What was your working relationship like on this project?
PH: We have collaborated for many years, while also maintaining independent artistic practices. In general, there is a great deal of synchronicity in our collective projects—and the Venice installation was no exception—but there are also moments when we disagree and momentary tensions emerge, like in every relationship. Having spent over a decade as a couple means that we know each other well and have learned to manage disagreements when they appear in the working process. Lunar Ensemble for Uprising Seas emerged from hours and hours of internal discussions with our studios, as well as with the curators Barbara Casavecchia and Audrey Teichmann.
RP: There are periodic performances with the installation, scheduled throughout its duration. Could you tell us about those?
AU: We collaborated with Lugh O’Neill to compose the piece, and we constructed the instruments in our Berlin studio with the help of instrument-maker Joe Summers. All of the instruments were DIY, and they produce very unique sounds, achieved through experimentation. There are also music boxes that the performers must synchronize in order to play. The sculptures, though made of metal, are highly flexible and fragile, and the performers have to get used to them and learn to control them, building a relationship between their bodies and the sculptures. Some of the sculptures make sounds when they are moved, while others abstract the sounds by being curved or deformed. For example, the manta ray sculpture produces a unique sound each time its wings are moved, which deforms the sound coming from the music box.
RP: Petrit, your exhibition “(Unfinished Histories) Very volcanic over this green feather” is also on view at the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Museum in Geneva. The 53 colorful “floating” drawings installed in the space refer to your time in an Albanian refugee camp during the Kosovo War in 1998–99. There are images of conflict and also of heavenly landscapes. What was it like making a work that so heavily refers to your childhood situation?
PH: It was a deeply personal and introspective experience. It is a strongly autobiographical work that questions frames of memories against the backdrop of official history—one that I have chosen to share and relive again and again in the present.
The “floating” elements in the installation are enlarged versions of drawings that I made in the refugee camp, printed on felt and arranged to juxtapose the realities of war and a child’s dream of escape. This body of work, which was originally conceived for Tate St. Ives (2021), allowed me to revisit my childhood experiences from a temporal and geographical distance and to reflect on how those experiences impacted the shaping of my identity. The fragmented nature of the storytelling and the floating elements were intentionally designed to engage the viewer actively—everyone is encouraged to make their own thread and to recognize its unfinished nature. As you navigate through the space, you encounter scenes of conflict happening on the “other side,” which is hidden to the view from the entrance. Then, a dialogue unfolds, revealing different layers of meaning. I love imagining the viewer’s final glance upon returning to the starting point, when they once again see only the bucolic landscape merging with the abstract monochromatic colors. Only then do they realize that what they see is never what it seems.
Petrit Halilaj’s “(Unfinished Histories) Very volcanic over this green feather” is on view at the International Red Cross and Red Crescent Museum, Geneva, Switzerland, through September 17, 2023. Halilaj and Urbano’s Lunar Ensemble for Uprising Seas remains on view at Ocean Space in Venice through November 5, 2023.
