The Pavilion of Nature at the Venice Biennale. Or, Two Seagulls Challenging Patriarchy
Amid protests against the Russian Pavilion, tensions surrounding Israel’s participation, and pro-Palestinian demonstrations, two seagulls sitting on their eggs in front of the Polish Pavilion have turned a nest into one of the most radical political images of the 2026 Biennale by sharing the responsibilities of care.
Link to the Italian version on Artribune
There is something profoundly disorienting about the scene unfolding over the past few days at the Giardini in Venice. On one side, the Biennale seems increasingly permeated by the major geopolitical tensions of the present: protests against the Russian Pavilion, pro-Palestinian actions, debates surrounding the cultural role of Israel within a war that continues to divide both the artistic and political worlds, calls for the closure of national pavilions, heightened security measures, slogans overlapping with official openings. Walking through the avenues of the Giardini, one has the impression that contemporary art has become more and more the symbolic space where global conflict seeks representation.
And yet, within this atmosphere of permanent tension, one of the most memorable images of the Biennale does not come from a multimillion-dollar installation or a major curatorial statement, but from two seagulls that decided to build their nest in front of the Polish Pavilion.
The Spontaneous Genesis of the Pavilion of Nature at the 2026 Biennale
At first, it seemed like nothing more than a curious, almost folkloric episode. Then something changed. The organizers chose not to remove the nest and instead protected it with a small barrier accompanied by a sign for visitors. From that moment on, this fragment of animal life slowly began to transform into a sort of involuntary pavilion within the Biennale itself: the Pavilion of Nature. And perhaps no artwork this year speaks about the present moment with the same symbolic precision.
One of the seagulls remains still, incubating the eggs. The other watches from the roof of the building opposite, vigilant, almost motionless. Then it flies away, probably searching for food, only to return shortly afterward and replace its companion. The two continuously alternate roles with astonishing naturalness, dividing the labor of care in an almost perfectly equal way.
Nature’s Response to the Emergence of New Responsibilities: A Lesson for All of Us
This is the moment when the scene ceases to be merely poetic and becomes political. Because while the human world continues to construct systems based on domination, hierarchy, and unequal distributions of power, these two animals are staging, in front of the Biennale, a form of coexistence grounded in shared responsibility. No one dominates the scene. No one disappears into the invisible sacrifice of care. No one assumes the symbolic role of leader while the other carries the entire emotional burden.
What is striking is that all of this happens without ideology, without declarations, and without turning care into rhetoric.
Nature: A Reality Before Which We Are Forced to Slow Down
And it is impossible not to notice the subtle irony of the situation. Humanity arrives in Venice carrying wars, nationalisms, diplomatic crises, and endless theoretical debates about coexistence, while two seagulls seem to have resolved one of the most fragile questions of contemporary society with almost humiliating simplicity. Meanwhile, thousands of visitors stop in front of that small enclosure far longer than they do in front of many official artworks. Something compels them to slow down, to truly observe, to step outside, even for a moment, the compulsive consumption of images that now dominates every major cultural event.
Perhaps because that nest produces the very short circuit contemporary art has been chasing for years: it restores presence. It does not represent life, simulate it, or archive it theoretically. It exposes it directly.
Peaceful Sharing: A Revolutionary Act of Biological Resistance
And so, while discussions at the Giardini revolve around borders, propaganda, exclusion, and national identities, these two seagulls continue their silent occupation of space. Theirs is not a shouted protest, but a form of biological resistance that ultimately raises profound questions about human behavior itself. In a historical moment in which everything seems organized around permanent conflict, watching two creatures perfectly share the burden of survival feels almost revolutionary.
Perhaps this is precisely why the Pavilion of Nature has affected the Biennale audience so deeply. Because without slogans, without a manifesto, and without any artistic intention whatsoever, these two seagulls are managing to reveal something that politics, and often contemporary art itself, seem to have forgotten: coexistence does not emerge from domination, but from the ability to protect something fragile together.
