Arrival & first Impressions
Arriving at Santa Lucia train station, I hop onto a boat bound for the city centre and my hotel near San Marco. A 15-minute walk through narrow, winding streets awaits, making me grateful I packed lightly. When I say narrow, I mean very narrow — barely wider than an arm's reach. Then, just like that, the passage opens up to reveal a towering cathedral appearing as if from nowhere. It is a psychedelic experience for the senses.
Food, food... and more food (Or: there is no such thing as too many cichetti)
Bar All’Arco was our first food stop — a well-known local spot for cicchetti. I had artichokes, salami, cheese, and baccalà while waiting for friends. Later that evening, we enjoyed more cicchetti at the stylish Vino Vero, where old-school hip hop created an unexpectedly cool atmosphere. Dinner at Osteria l’Orto dei Mori was a highlight — the baked scallops and squid ink pasta were absolutely unforgettable.
Lunch the following day at Osteria da Pampo offered another round of Venetian classics — baccalà, crisp courgette flowers, and prawn pasta. We finished the day at the legendary Harry’s Bar Cipriani — undeniably popular with visitors, but completely worth it. The evening ended with live music and dessert at a historic café in Piazza San Marco. Yes, I was touristy this time — and honestly, I have no regrets.
Next one — the UAE Pavilion. We walked into Pressure Cooker not knowing what to expect, but it immediately made sense. Curated by Azza Aboualam, the exhibition asks: How can architecture help secure our food systems in an uncertain climate? You walk past these modular greenhouses, each configured differently to play with sunlight, ventilation, and crop needs. There were cucumbers, tomatoes and also blueberries. Blueberries! It was one of the most quietly surprising experiences of the whole Biennale.
Now — the Saudi Pavilion, The Um Slaim School: An Architecture of Connection. I walked and felt like I was stepping into someone’s memory and future at once. The space, created by Syn Architects and curated by Beatrice Leanza, told a story not just through images and models, but through sounds, textures, and presence. It centred around the work of the Um Slaim Collective, documenting Najdi architecture from Riyadh and weaving it with contemporary challenges. There were archival photographs, material samples, and fragments that felt personal and collective all at once.
Another standout was the Bahrain Pavilion, which received the Golden Lion for Best National Participation. Titled Heatwave, the exhibition offered a poetic yet practical response to extreme heat, one of the most urgent environmental challenges facing the region. The installation reimagined traditional cooling methods, referencing wind towers and shaded courtyards. It wasn’t dramatic or loud — instead, it invited you into a quiet, sandy-toned space, where filtered light, minimal elements, and gentle airflow created a space of calm.
I also asked my friend Sergey Nadtochiy, architect and curator, to share what stood out for him at the Biennale.
Sergey Nadtochiy: “What impressed me the most this year was the main exhibition curated by Carlo Ratti. His presence was truly felt — the selection of projects worked together in a thoughtful and cohesive way, responding to the theme of Intelligens not only as a technological concept but also as a way of thinking about architecture critically, responsibly, and inventively. It is rare to see a curatorial vision so clearly translated into space.
Among the national pavilions, Armenia and Oman stood out to me. The Armenian pavilion used AI to analyse scans of traditional Armenian architecture carved in tuff stone, generating new tectonic surfaces that were then physically realised — a powerful and beautiful example of digital heritage transformation.
The Omani pavilion was also incredibly striking, both spatially and conceptually. It offered a calm, atmospheric, and materially rich experience, connecting contemporary design with timeless architectural logic.
While not every installation hit the mark, this Biennale overall felt more architectural and grounded than some previous editions. Less abstract discourse, more tangible ideas. And it left me with a lot to think about — which is, I guess, the best thing any exhibition can do.”
This year, Biennale feels less about spectacle and more about connection — projects that ask open-ended questions about memory, material, and community.
Can’t take your eyes off Venice
They say, "The eye has to travel." Well, in Venice, your eyes are basically tripping most of the time. Reflections of sunlight in the blooming azure waters of the canals. Endless marble all around. Faded paint on crumbling facades. Modernist signages above trattorias and shops where time has stood still. Old wooden chairs and crisp white tablecloths peeking through linen curtains in tiny windows. Rushed, slightly disoriented tourists and well-dressed architects gliding through the streets between Giardini and Arsenale, trying to see every pavilion before they leave. The city breathes past and present in perfect harmony.