Beneath the glistening water surrounding Albert Dock in Liverpool, there lies a dark and tumultuous history. But today, beside this water, the sun cascades down on diners, seagulls and a carousel outside Tate Liverpool. Ugo Rondinone’s sculpture of rocks painted in rainbow colours stack up high in a celebratory fanfare. But on entering the first space dedicated to the Liverpool Biennial, darkness and silence descends. The contrast between the festivities outside and the reverence commanded by Torkwase Dyson’s three intimidating structures is breathtaking. Each weighing 750kg, the huge, curved sculptures appear as ships ready to make a voyage. The works stand close to what was Britain’s first commercial wet dock, constructed in 1715 to facilitate the transatlantic slave trade.
Slavery – or the impact of colonialism – is central to the work in this year’s Liverpool Biennial, which spans eight exhibition venues and five outdoor works. Entitled uMoya: The Sacred Return of Lost Things, it is as much about the horrors of the past as it is about the healing potential of the future. “uMoya” is an isiZulu word that means spirit, soul, breath, air, wind, temper and climate. For this biennial of 35 artists, it refers to the strong winds of Liverpool that made it central to the slave trade but could now be utilised to forge new, healing paths. Curator Khanyisile Mbongwa explains, in the biennial guide, that she is developing a space “to create openings that allow us to imagine our way through the wound, to clear pathways so that we can hold each other with something other than pain.”
