What global art media missed about the Nauru Pavilion at the Venice Biennale 2026

Sometimes, truly big stories are not the ones that some “riots” are screaming about, trying to bring attention to the wrong side of the problem.

The Western world was plunged into shock multiple times by the news about the 61st Biennale of Art in Venice. Some pavilions were desired by the masses not to open or not to return; the jury resigned, and artists went on strike, to name a few.

The russian pavilion, unfortunately, appeared on global news more than once or twice. More than it should ever have been highlighted. And, sadly, little was talked about the other side, about the Ukrainian pavilion or its satellite events, about the Georgian pavilion, and many others, who ACTUALLY NEED TO BE WELL REPRESENTED.

And while I spotted a few social media posts about the silent anti-Russian performances organised by Georgian and Ukrainian artists and activists, one important art project was scandalously missed.

I’ll start from the beginning, and you follow the thread.

“The Sea that Remembers” by Tedo Rekhviashvili, 2026

In November 2025, at the after-show soirée in Paris, Tedo, a Georgian-born visual artist, was offered to participate in the Venice Biennale. The curator behind this offer didn’t mention at first that the group exhibition they discussed was supposed to be held within a country’s pavilion.

Soon, the artist received a much-anticipated invitation… to join the Nauru Pavilion. Don’t pretend that you knew much about this small island country. But it was their first presentation at this important cultural show. And a group of European curators were gathering artists to build the narrative around the topic “AIM Inundated, Imagining Life After Land”.

Two places, two heroes of the story

One is Nauru, officially the Republic of Nauru, an island country and microstate in the South Pacific Ocean.

Another one, Abkhazia, is a region on the Eastern shores of the Black Sea. Historically, it was a part of the country of Georgia (Sakartvelo).

Nauru’s been colonised multiple times by different countries, dragged into the World Wars, and, on top of that, colonisers found rich phosphate deposits there. By the 1960s, some of the mine areas were so exhausted that the current administrator (Australia) thought the island would become uninhabitable as far as the 1990s. Yet the Nauru people didn’t accept the offer to become Australian citizens and relocate to another island (what?). Instead, they demanded control over their mines, proclaimed independence and grew into a Constitution-based republic. This story has a happy ending (as seen by the outsider, of course): by the 1980s, Nauruans became the richest people in the world thanks to the income from their mines. In 2025, their government decided it was time to put their country on the global art map and participate in the Venice Biennale.

The region of Abkhazia had been an organic part of western Georgia for centuries and centuries. Yet, thanks to Moscow’s influence during the Soviet Union, the local population was strongly pushed towards being autonomous or even independent from Georgia. (This colonising borderisation politics was led by russian government all around, just look at the artificial state of Transnistria, now annexed Crimea, or the occupied eastern regions of Ukraine.) So, when Georgia proclaimed their independence in 1991, Abkhazia didn’t support this decision and soon, supported by russian forces, revolted, demanding its own independence. Interestingly, as the Abkhaz ethnic people made up only 18% of the population of the region… All the same, the local Georgian population and representatives of other ethnic groups residing there had to flee after years of war and genocide inflicted upon them. The conflict was frozen in 1994, and later, Abkhazia was recognised as a sovereign country by five UN members.

One of them was… Nauru.

Using every opportunity to speak out

Getting back to 2025. When Tedo realised which country’s pavilion he’d been invited to join, he didn’t say no. He took his time to think and decided to use this chance. But, under one condition: he’d speak about Abkhazia in his artwork presented at the pavilion and only from his perspective.

… Back in the day, Tedo’s family had a summer house in Abkhazia. And many of his relatives lived there on a permanent basis. As mentioned before, it’s located on the Eastern shores of the Black Sea, with a warm, pleasant climate, sea breeze, and luxury green mountains behind. Sukhumi, Gagra and other cities were sanatorium destinations during the Soviet period. It was like heaven, as people who resided there recall.

To Redo, Abkhazia had always been green, “blue sea, sky, green areas”. After it was occupied and his family lost access to it, they still went to sea each summer (health reasons), but now to a different place in Georgia called Ureki. Tedo’s mother suggested him to pick a shell and take it with him to Tbilisi, so when he misses the sea, he could put the shell to his ear and hear it. To remind him of the lost Abkhazia.

Following his memories, Tedo built an art installation for the show, in the shape of a seashell (2.5m height, 1.5 m diameter), and painted six parts of Abkhazia in a fresco style across its surface. To complete the feeling of the lost land and share the deep tragedy within, the artist added the lull of the waves, suddenly transitioning into the horrific sounds of the beginning of the war (one could hear the woman crying, “Oh my! Kids! kids…”). It may be triggering to people carrying similar traumas:

[embed]Sea That remembers..mp3 Edit descriptiondrive.google.com

Tedo explains that his installation is closely related to the theme of the Nauru Pavilion. About the conceptual disappearance of little countries/regions/territories due to environmental or war-related actions. Due to the actions of people. All that’s left is a memory.

“The Sea that Remembers” by Tedo Rekhviashvili, 2026

Pictures provided by Tedo Rekhviashvili. Interviewed by Alina Rozanova on May 6th, 2026