This year’s Bermuda National Gallery’s Bermuda Biennial Exhibition is the most cohesive ever and probably the smallest. Small is obvious, for the space designated for the Biennial has been limited to only the Humann, Young and the Sharon & Paul Gurtler galleries. The Watlington Room and the Ondaatje wing are excluded. The Watlington Room was last used in a Bermuda Biennial in 2012.

In the past, the Biennial included the entire BNG exhibition space and often the City Hall grounds and on one occasion even the City Hall Lobby.

The cohesiveness of this Biennial is not one of stylistic similarity however. It is stylistically wide ranging, from realism to abstraction. I use this designation to highlight the overall high quality of the art, meaning its craftsmanship and skill, as well as the underlying concepts. There is nothing that should be eliminated.

While this Biennial may be the most cohesive, it is also the least contentious. In the past, there were a notable few who appeared to intentionally push the boundaries of what was socially acceptable, be it in terms of race, religion, sexuality or politics.

So is this year’s Biennial a beautiful, appealing exhibition? Yes, yes. It’s one art lovers must see.

The jurors for this year’s BNG Biennial are Ebony G Patterson and Helen Toomer.

Patterson is no stranger to the BNG. In 2012 she had a solo art exhibition at the BNG. Since then she has had numerous exhibitions and awards, not only in Jamaica, her home country, but also the US and the UK.

Toomer has been an organiser of art events for over 15 years, primarily in the New York and Hudson Valley area. She points out that she is especially dedicated to uplifting women in the arts. Two-thirds of this year's Biennial Exhibition showcase art by women.

In the past, the Biennial, as indicated, took up the BNG’s entire exhibition space, but with the elimination of the Watlington Room and the Ondaatje wing from the show, space for the Biennial has been considerably contracted.

In the jurors’ catalogue statement, they wrote that “space too provided a guiding force for the works”. This begs the question; is it possible that the decision to eliminate certain works form the show, was made because of a limited exhibition space?

And now to the art in the 2024 BNG Biennial.

I was recently speaking with a local collector and asked him what his choice would be, if any, from this year’s BNG Biennial? Without hesitation, he said drawings by Jacqueline Alma. Her contribution to the Biennial, although modest in scale, is nevertheless spectacular. Her drawing skills are amazing.

Abi Box’s painting is a refreshing view of the world. Her painting, Noise Maker, is basically an exploration of paint, layers of paint and in that sense, it is an abstract. Although there is a suggestion of landscape, her underlying subject really is paint and what she can do with it.

Nadiyah Brown’s photograph shows that there is meaning in the ordinary, in story, in community for those whose eyes are wide open to the everyday.

Jordan Carey is a Bermudian kite-maker, whose work provokes the question; what are kites supposed to do? Fly of course, but to his BNG Biennial kite, he has affixed the image of a motor bike. Is Carey suggesting that motor bikes should also fly?

Analogue (film) photography is undergoing a revival, although it is doubtful it will ever be anything near what it once was.

Signe Constable is both a digital and analogue photographer. For the BNG Biennial, she has submitted two analogue photographs and her Fennel Way is especially engaging. It shows a sunny Bermuda lane, with fennel superimposed by means of a double exposure. In memory, I smell the fragrance of fennel.

James Cooper’s submission is surprising in that his work appears to be taking a new direction; an exceedingly beautiful new direction. In an earlier artist’s statement he described his art as being light-hearted. I saw in his earlier work something akin to “Pop”. I would not describe his current work as light-hearted, however. Their beauty trumps whatever light-hearted means.

There is a visual link between Cooper’s palmlike digital print called Untitled (Palms) and Keishunda Curtis’s nearby installation titled Family, in that she uses actual palm fronds as a metaphor for certain life concepts. The visual link between the two is coincidental, however.

I see in Curtis’s Family, the life cycle that we all go through, one way or another. We are born, grow, develop, mature, move through life’s stages into old age and hopefully we do it beautifully.

Over time, Curtis’s palm fronds have gone from green and fresh, to dry and brown. These are metaphors for life cycles.

Back in the 1950s, black velvet was frequently used as a ground upon which really cloying, overly decorative, cliché art was painted. I did even then realise, however, that there was nothing intrinsically wrong with black or any other colour velvet. Indeed, it is historically a luxury fabric. It was the manner of usage that cheapened it.

When I first encountered the art of Soleé Darrell, I did not realise that her ground was velvet. I did see her art as having considerable appeal however, and I was drawn to it, but only on close inspection did I realise that she was painting on ivory-coloured velvet. It is by this means that she is able to produce such softness, in her painting.

In Darrell’s artist statement, she indicates that her use of layers of mixed media can be seen as symbolising wounding and healing and as paths into the unknowns of life.

IN DE RAIN, a Gombey video by Dion the Creative, showcases a Gombey troupe dancing at night in the rain. At first I neglected taking the time to view it, thinking to myself, “not another Gombey cliché,” but when I did view it, I realised that this is serious stuff and beautiful to boot. Consider also the longstanding history of the Gombey, an important aspect of our history.

When I was a kid, a long time ago. I recall that Gombeys were a lot more ragged and fearsome. Today Gombeys are usually more colourful and entertaining.

As I was watching IN DE RAIN, diagonally across the room was Jahbarri Wilson’s Star’ erfolk, that caught my attention, first by its large size, but especially by its magical light. It’s about night fishing, recalling Picasso’s Night Fishing at Antibes; but as famous as Picasso’s painting is, I’ll take Jahbarri’s magic.

Christina Hutchings’ Five Lines of Thought is a standout assemblage that demands attention. I see it as the skeletal remains of Duchamp’s Nude Descending a Staircase, No 2. The linearity of the broken tape measures that make up the compositional verticals reminds me of the pioneering research into human locomotion by Etienne-Jules Marey. Marey’s Model wore black with a white stripe along the vertical length of his body. Marey’s photographs are reminiscent and obviously related to Duchamp’s Nude, but also lingers at a distance in Five Lines of thought.

Was Hutchings when creating her Biennial submission, thinking of Duchamp’s Nude? No, I’m fairly certain that was not the case, but in previous exhibitions, she has referenced Duchamp as an influence and influence has a funny way of subconsciously intruding, even when not in conscious thought.

Hutchings’ How High the Moon is a continuation of her Bermuda night sky series.

There is a remarkable amount of experimentation and inventiveness in this year’s Biennial and Johanna Flath’s triptych is such an example in that she has developed a way of working that is the outcome of experimentation. She begins by using plants, be they ferns, flowers or leaves etc, which she inks and prints on watercolour paper. she then enhances the print by working into it with whatever seems appropriate, such as paint or pastel. The end result is wonderful.

Daisy Gould’s small Polaroid emulsion photographs on watercolours paper are examples of photographic minimalism. There appears to be a veil drawn across the image, which Gould suggests gives them a look of daydreams or memories. In a take from the author E.F. Schumacher’s book, small is beautiful; small can also be beautiful in art.

Gherdai Hassell’s ambitious installation entitled Organic Matters, is a continuation of her interest and research into Nellie Musson’s book, Mind the Onion Seed. Hassell says that the book inspired her to think about home and the interiors we inhabit. Indeed her installation is a kind of surreal parlour, couch and all.

Although there is also within the installation suggestions of onion stalks, these could be seen as something otherwise as well. It brought to my mind the saying, “Come into my parlour, said the spider to the fly.” These elongated stalks reminded me of spiders, hence the above quote.

At this point, because of space constraints, it is best that I finish this review with a sequel. The artists and art not yet considered deserve consideration.

The Biennial Exhibition at the Bermuda National Gallery is sponsored by Bacardi Ltd. The Biennial is free of charge and is a treat for the eyes.