Diary – 17 June 2005

Just back from a weekend in Venice, where I attended the 51st Biennale, along with what seemed like tens of thousands of others. I arrived in the city tired and late at night, so it wasn’t until the following morning that I realised I had been sharing a room with a skeleton. Really. I had been billeted with an eccentric artist; the skeleton was purely for reference. At the Biennale two years ago it was so hot that people were fainting into the canals. This year the weather was perfect: bright blue skies with warm sun. In the Giardini I clambered over upside-down beer bottles in Belgium’s pavilion, kicked small silver balls around the floor (Czech and Slovak) and overcame a blast of freezing air (Russia) in the name of art. Huge fun. The last time I was in Venice I was with Bernard Levin. The weather was cold, grey and mysterious, and we stayed in the Danieli.