Among the most powerful projects of the 61st Venice Biennale, the Serbian pavilion stands out as one of the most politically and emotionally charged proposals. Installed in the Giardini and conceived by the Serbian-Czech artist Predrag Djaković, Through Golgotha to Resurrection is not simply an exhibition: it proposes an archaeology of European wounds and a radical reflection on the survival of memory in times of ideological collapse.
Selected by the Serbian Ministry of Culture to represent the country at the Biennale, Djaković—based in Prague—has developed an installation of powerful symbolic intensity where photographs, personal archives, maps, administrative documents, and historical materials are arranged like a fragmented constellation. There is no linear narrative or didactic chronology here. What emerges is a landscape of remnants: vestiges of displacements, fractures, and disappearances that marked the 20th century and continue to resonate in the present.
The project, curated by Ivan Milošević and directed by Tomáš Koudela, addresses memory not as a stable archive but as an unstable, mobile, and vulnerable territory. The notion of the “archive in motion” permeates the entire installation through a recurring leitmotif: suitcases. These objects encapsulate the experiences of deportation, exile, migration, and failed return that defined much of European modernity.
Far from focusing on a single national conflict, the film explores a collective and global experience: the collapse of modern promises—reason, progress, humanism—under the weight of political violence, mass manipulation, and totalitarian ideologies. Djaković transforms this historical trauma into a sober and deeply meditative visual language, where each fragment seems to question how an individual can maintain their identity under the pressure of the past.
The sonic dimension plays a crucial role in the exhibition. A piano improvisation in A minor permeates the installation like an invisible structure, connecting images and documents. The music doesn't merely accompany; it breathes with the work. It introduces a sense of suspended grief, but also of possible recomposition. The title itself— Through Golgotha to Resurrection —points to this tension between fall and rebirth, between devastation and spiritual transformation.
One of the most powerful aspects of the pavilion lies in its ability to question the mechanisms of collective identity construction. Djaković suggests that communities can become entrenched within their own representations and transform into instruments of exclusion. Therefore, the selected materials do not function as definitive historical proofs, but rather as critical elements that destabilize any univocal interpretation of the past.
The project also has the collaboration of the Vojvodina Archives and photographer Zvonimir Segi, expanding the documentary dimension of a proposal that constantly oscillates between artistic installation, historical research and sensory experience.
In a Biennale marked by fragmented discourses and spectacular strategies, Serbia opts for introspection, gravity, and memory. The result is one of the most solid and unsettling pavilions of this edition: a work that does not seek to illustrate history, but to traverse it.