On minor frequencies

It had never happened before that a Biennale curator died just five months after her appointment, yet in that brief time Koyo Kouoh, of Cameroonian origin, managed to define the project, select the artists, and choose the beautiful title In Minor Keys. Legend has it that Koyo gathered her team in Dakar, in a garden filled with mango trees: each curator would propose artists, and when a name was chosen, a mango would fall, as if confirming the decision. The exhibition is rooted in the idea of the garden, of community, of the courtyard and the school. The title “minor keys” evokes a subdued musicality, a whisper, the marginal elements that ultimately shape history. The focus shifts toward African artists and those from the diaspora, as well as voices from Asia and the Global South; European and North American presences are minimal, though many artists were trained there.

The exhibition privileges sensory experience: here one sees, hears, and smells. Scent creates atmosphere, sound produces emotional resonance. The installation, designed by Wolff Architects, is seamless: there are no rigid sections, only a fluid path marked by blue drapes that signal thresholds to cross, echoing the poetry found throughout.
The exhibition begins outside, on the portico of the Central Pavilion. Otobong Nkanga has clad its columns with Venetian bricks, Murano glass vessels, climbing plants, and small insect shelters. Soft Offerings to Silenced Voices and to All Who Have Turned to Dust transforms celebratory architecture into a living organism shaped by growth and time, setting the tone for a Biennale built on listening, care, and the persistence of erased lives. Inside, indigo banners structure the rhythm of the space. The journey unfolds through four atmospheres: sanctuaries, processions, rest, and schools. Big Chief Demond Melancon’s Amistad Takeover dominates one room, a monumental ceremonial garment from the Black Masking tradition of New Orleans, recalling the 1839 revolt aboard La Amistad. Nearby, Issa Samb’s environment evokes a studio-like courtyard filled with objects still engaged in ritual and dialogue, functioning as a secular shrine. Works by Beverly Buchanan and others explore memory, precariousness, and community.

Throughout, the exhibition shifts scale and meaning, from intimate reflections to monumental presences. It highlights interdependence, ancestral memory, and alternative cosmologies, while honouring figures like Koyo Kouoh and Toni Morrison. The final sections invite visitors to pause, read, and reflect, rejecting an encyclopaedic pace in favour of stillness. The Central Pavilion becomes a space of hospitality, where history slows down and “minor tones” reveal the quiet power of a listening community.