The 56th edition of the Venice Art Biennale has scarcely come to an end. And yet, our attention and our energies are already focused on the forthcoming event in 2017, which will signal a comeback (after an 18-year hiatus) for Malta’s participation in the mother of all art shows.

Eighteen years is a long time to wait, especially for a hungry community, starved for representation on valid platforms that could unlock opportunities to connect them with thousands of influential practitioners and operators. The wait seems to be over.

Before delving into discussions surrounding our impending participation, the debatable relevance of the Biennale within an ever-growing spectrum of visual arts fairs and festivals is warranted.

The theme set by artistic director Okwui Enwezor for 2015 – All the World’s Futures – was admittedly bleak, with most pavilions opting for a futuristic or apocalyptical approach. Destruction, ruins, debris and remnants generally dominated the artistically crammed spaces.

In hindsight, this could have been a deliberate choice on the curator’s behalf, which, nonetheless realistically translated into the overcrowding of artworks and installations that competed fiercely for the viewer’s attention.

The Giardini’s Central Pavilion and the Arsenale were particularly claustrophobic. Most of the national pavilions deserved proper attention, however. The key was to approach each space as distinct, rather than a continuation of, which defeats the unifying theme and overall purpose, but which allows the mind and the eye to focus.

Having ‘hiked’ through physical and virtual Venice on several occasions in search of the most seductive artists represented in one or more pavilions, collateral events or in the floating city’s galleries and museums, I was keen to partake in the Biennale with a group of diverse creatives – each having a very defined and distinct aesthetic sense.

Art is, after all, meant to be experienced; whether profound or superficial, interpretation depends on the quality of the work, the display and narrative, the space and the connection one establishes with the whole. The experience can only be heightened through critical debate, shared observations or mutual appreciation.

Reproduced here are a few of their personal highlights.

Fabrizio Mifsud Soler

Freelance curator

This year’s Venice Biennale (unlike the previous edition) proved to be one of many highlights. I would say that the best moments consisted of the Korean and French Pavilions, followed closely by some of the work of Danh Vo at the Danish Pavilion.

Hito Steyerl’s Factory of the Sun, as part of the Fabrik exhibition within the German Pavilion proved to be a riveting experience based on its futuristic, almost Tron-ian, enclosure as well as its subject matter, visuals and soundscape. Andreas Gursky’s, Toys R Us (1991/2015), as part of a larger collection of Gurskies within the overly-packed Biennale’s central exhibition was another highlight.

The two works which kept me in one place for longer than usual and left a long-lasting imprint on my visual memory as only few others do, are Forgive Them and The Caged Bird’s Song (both 2015) by Chris Ofili.

Offered more content than one can physically consume

In separate instances, beautifully intricate and delicately erotic, yet both mesmerising in muted feeling and journeys of colour belonging to another culture and another world – a tropical (wet) dream.

Kane Cali

Digital glass artist

Coming from a fairly unconventional (technological) ceramics and glass background, I was intuitively curious to see the variety of work on show in Venice, particularly works that made use of both materials. There are certain things that only an artist/maker working with material can appreciate.

Knowledge will not give you that, for it is the expression through hands-on experience that is felt and translates as emotion. The experience can only be described as visceral.

Even though the two main events (Arsenale and the Gardini) offered more content than one can physically consume, the city is also littered with independent side events. Glasstress, as the name implies, showcased a range of glass works within a fine art context. I felt like an unassuming, seasoned infant walking into Palazzo Cavalli Franchetti, totally unprepared to see what contemporary fine art did to glass.

Even though the works on show amused me, I can’t say I was particularly moved. I felt most exhibits appeared naïve, particularly Tony Cragg’s, whose work angered me. It felt so unexplored and unrefined and did little to suggest that they came from the same artist known for his sublime, anamorphic metal structures. I was also unimpressed with what the Chapman Brothers produced.

I was finally able to find solace in a cast piece by the renowned Spaniard Juame Plensa, not because of its inherent, calming nature but rather for its ability to rid me of the plagues I had witnessed earlier. The work appeared eternal, effortless even, despite knowing that a solid crystal work of that size is a feat of technical brilliance.

Ritty Tacsum

Experimental photographer

This was my first visit to the biennale but, to be frank, I have mixed feelings about it. I enjoyed visiting the Giardini and the national pavilions. However, I was not impressed with most of the content presented at the Arsenale. The latter, I felt, was overcrowded with hardly enough space to enjoy the artworks. As a result, I found it hard to focus and to analyse some of the pieces, even the more challenging ones.

Out of all the exhibits and pavilions, the German one stood out the most, in particular, the video installation by Hito Steyerl.

In some weird way, I felt a strong connection to it. I watched and experienced it in its entirety whereas I had literally skimmed through other installations. Although the video was serious at its core, the approach was light, almost comical, making it not only interesting, but also compelling.

Another video installation which held my attention was Mika Rottenbergs’s NoNoseKnows – a comically-macabre narrative which used visual metaphors to illustrate the conflicts and parallels between labour and luxury.

Overall, there were few examples of the more traditional forms of fine art. Which is why the photographs of Andreas Gursky and the plaster casts of Sarah Lucas stood out.

Sef Farrugia

Fashion & Textiles designer/IllustratorThe Dutch pavilion was the first to impress me. Herman de Vries was the sole artist chosen to represent Holland at the Giardini. His work poignantly captured the diversity that exists within nature. To be All Ways To Be sat beautifully in Rietveld’s pavilion – the scale of work presented and the attention to positive and negative space were given great significance.

As a fashion and textiles designer, I could particularly appreciate the balance between light, texture and colour.

The installation by Vanessa Beecroft, Le membre fantôme, for the Italian pavilion (Arsenale) could only be viewed through a purposeful gap between two marble slabs mounted in front of her work. It made the visitor even more intrigued as he or she discovered the immaculate beauty of classical yet conceptual sculpture in this very intimate, yet alluring, space.

In the German pavilion, Hito Steverl’s video installation titled The Factory of the Sun tapped into cultural, economic and social issues in the form of a computer game representing the digital age. The setting alone – a motion capture studio illuminated through a surrounding blue grid, was clad with deckchairs – propelled visitors into a whole new dimension. The ‘game’ switched frantically between numerous realities via dance routines, captivating the audience’s attention through music and rhythm.

Overall, the content at the Giardini was substantially better than the Arsenale. It must be said, however, that there could not have been a better setting to the world’s fore-most art show than the forever charming Venice.