Just the other day, as I made my way through the streets of Venice to the Giardini della Biennale, a Gothic palazzo on the Grand Canal caught my attention. Not far from the Hotel Gritti Palace, Venice, a long, bright pink banner displayed the name of the artist Bruce Nauman, the American entry in the 53rd International Art Exhibition - the Venice Bienniale. The former rooms of one of the city's powerful Renaissance families were filled with Nauman's videos, neon tubes, sculptures, and sound installations, including the brand new Giorni, which features fourteen speakers emitting the days of the week, spoken in Italian. Motivated by this little appetizer, I set off for the gardens at Venice's southeast edge, hungry for more.

The Biennale Gardens are like the Epcot Center but instead of China dolls and Dutch clogs you get light bulbs peaking out of sandboxes (Sakuhin by Japanese artist MIchio Yoshihara) and examples of men's swimwear, framed (the Danish and Nordic Pavilion). Each country, from Austria to Venezuela has its own pavilion, though there are only twenty-nine in total. And each one has its own distinct architectural character, from Canada's modernist glass and brick facade, to the neo-classical grandeur of the U.S. pavilion. There's plenty of art, but since each venue features a small selection of works by a single artist, it doesn't get overwhelming. There were thought-provoking pieces, like the botanical influenced series by Jeff Geys in the Belgian Pavilion, and the poetic films by Fiona Tan in the Dutch Pavilion. There were enchanting works in the Exhibition Palace, like Hans-Peter Feldmann's Shadow Play, and Simon Startling's "loop machine." And then there was the French pavilion, with its silver glittered walls. Simply dazzling.