EXHIBITION

Paola Pivi creates worlds of wonder and abandon, where absurdism quietly challenges the rigidity of repressive systems. As you enter the exhibition space, we encounter a menagerie of sculptural objects- from a scaled down Statue of Liberty wearing a mask, to colourfully feathered polar bears, and walls lined with shoes. Together, these works invite reflection on ideas of freedom and multiplicity; the freedom to think beyond what we are told, and question the many meanings that we assign to objects.

In direct conversation with Jean-Michel Othoniel’s sculpture titled La spirale d’or (2017) in the stairwell, we find Pivi’s beaded mask, Collana (1995) made during her first year at art school. The piece was purchased by her late teacher, Alberto Garutti, and marks an early exploration of how personal freedom might be abstracted from social roles and expectations. The work speaks to how identities are constructed and undone, freed and protected—often all at once, and never without consequence.

With It's me (2022), the symbolism of the iconic Statue of Liberty is subverted and expanded, asking us to question the versions of freedom it can hold. The statue wears an emoticon-style mask portraying Mahnaz Akbari, a woman from Afghanistan who worked in the Afghan Army and was forced to leave in 2021 following the withdrawal of the US from her country. Originally conceived for the High Line in New York as a five-metre-tall sculpture titled You know who I am (2022) featuring five alternating masks, this smaller iteration sharpens notions of visibility and agency within systems shaped by bureaucracy, regulation, and unequal access to rights. Each mask represents a different individual, underscoring how freedom is lived, negotiated, and experienced in distinct ways. The work considers the enduring presence of the Statue as an emblem— from the original Statue of Liberty by Auguste Bartholdi, to countless reproductions, souvenirs, and miniatures worldwide—inviting us to question to the meaning it once held, and how the shifts in its significance play out in both inspiring and troubling ways.

In the central space, brightly feathered, animated polar bears playfully explore both the animal’s exoticism and its role as a symbol of climate change. Expressive and anthropomorphic, the bears strike theatrical poses—arms outstretched or performing a backflip—with punchy titles like They call me Polar Bear (2024) and Milkshake move (2024). Their whimsicality invites reflection on the delicate balance of nature, where physical poise parallels the cohabitation and equilibrium of ecosystems. The polar bears have become iconic in Pivi’s practice, and she began working on them long before they were linked to climate change—revealing how the meanings of symbols change over time. Of the many places Pivi has lived—from Alicudi in Northern Sicily and Courmayeur in Northern Italy, to cities in China, India, Hawaii, and Alaska—she has always considered Alaska her home. This is where she first encountered the polar bear species, and for Pivi, these artworks are rooted in respect and admiration.

At the far end of the gallery, we are invited into a space lined with hundreds of pairs of shoes—one worn, and one new. Engulfed by the lives and journeys of their wearers, the shoes tell their stories through style, value, size, and the extent of wear on them. At once a portrait of consumption and a collective field of lived experience, the simple gesture of lifting this functional object from the foot onto the wall, in pairs, reminds us that we exist within the small, daily negotiations of movement and access.

Speaking to volume and notions of inhabiting or occupying space are the interactive soft sculpture Milano (2022), the miniature perfumed sofa, and a three-dimensional painting made of pearls.

Since the 1990s, Paola Pivi has made miniature sofas to reflect on design trends, and the overlapping worlds of mass consumption and luxury. Here, a miniaturized version of Andy Warhol’s Factory iconic couch is drenched in perfume, its presence extending beyond its size—the scent evoking a pervasiveness that speaks to the larger-than-life personalities it entertained. Its meaning shifts from an object of comfort and rest to a collectible, thus becoming an object of allure.

Another work that collapses the distinction between art and design is the soft sculpture Milano, made with the Italian design company Moroso. We are invited to crawl into the narrow space between two stacks of velvet mattresses—lying on a surface of primary red while looking up at primary blue. This spatial condition heightens our awareness of shared space and bodily proximity. As with much of Pivi’s work, the experience is playful and awkward, transforming a space typically private into one of social engagement.

This rhythm of life is also explored in the analogue photograph of the island Alicudi in northern Sicily, where the artist lived; a place without roads or cars. Pivi’s fascination with the uncanny and her attentive observation of cultural nuances that fall outside the normative allows her to imagine worlds that resist singular ways of knowing and being. Here, the island is featured as a simple floating mound of land.

Contrary to the visual weight of the mattresses are the flighty wheels, moving slowly and hypnotically, transfixing our attention. A reference to Marcel Duchamp’s renowned Bicycle Wheel of 1913 and how the strength of an idea outweighs the skill of its making, Pivi’s wheels recall dreamcatchers, while also tracing the arc of human invention—from the simple mechanics of the wheel to the technology of flight. Woven into this mix are feathers from different birds that echo their origins: I am from Tokyo (2017) carries the feathers of the green pheasant endemic to Japan, while It was my choice (2017) features the iridescent feathers of a peacock from the Indian subcontinent. Both birds have long been associated with myth, power, and divinity, evoking cycles of change, renewal, and the passage of time.

On another wall is a large wall piece made of luscious plastic pearls that explores ideas of luxury and desire. It points to unseen labour, the extractive nature of modern consumption, and the precarious balance between the natural and manufactured worlds.

On the other end of the gallery, we are drawn into a dark room by the glow from an industrial-looking cube titled Lies. Inside, we are surrounded by thousands of images of reality, gathered from around the world, changing every few seconds—long enough for us to notice, make connections, and reflect. A human voice is audible, enunciating a series of lies—some are playful and innocent, others are verbatim historical lies, and some are dubious and destructive.

Conceived in 2013, the work is shaped by a deeply personal moment in Pivi’s life, when she and her husband Karma Culture Brothers were engaged in a four-year legal battle in India with the Tibetan Children’s Village. Fought over the custody of their son, Pivi and Karma were targeted by a barrage of lies used as weapons against them. At the time, lies were still widely seen as shameful and publicly condemned. Yet here, the deception was extreme—wielded by people she had believed to be compassionate and beyond suspicion. Pivi was profoundly shaken by how our perceptions of reality could be so easily and dangerously confused.

By 2018, only 5 years later, when Pivi created Lies at The Bass Museum in Miami Beach, society had shifted. Deception had become normalized: quite openly corporations misled, governments misrepresented, and lies were increasingly accepted. The work moves beyond a personal story to capture the broader effects of a world saturated with falsehoods. When lies circulate freely, all our sense of what is real begins to fray.

Text: Kanika Anand

The Education Department offers on-site group visits for school, academic, community, and language school groups. The group visit can be combined with a creative workshop.

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