A group of Belarusian exile artists are showcasing the horrors of authoritarian repression to the Venice Biennale, the world’s largest modern art festival. Belarus Free Theatre, founded by dissidents who have endured torture and imprisonment under dictator Alexander Lukashenko’s government, is unveiling their inaugural art installation, titled Official. Unofficial. Belarus. The ambitious multimedia project, created in a Warsaw studio by painters, sculptors, composers and even a internationally acclaimed chef, transforms the sensory elements of totalitarian terror into a powerful artistic experience. Rather than a traditional theatrical performance, the exhibition combines a installation of banned books, grain installations, a iron crucifix laden with surveillance, and a specially commissioned dish created to convey the experience of detention under an totalitarian state.
From oppression to sanctuary
The passage from Belarus to Venice has been far from straightforward for Natalia Kaliada and Nicolai Khalezin, the theatre company’s co-founders. London-based since their exile in 2011, they have created some of the most provocative political theatre, from the celebrated Being Harold Pinter to the Olivier-nominated opera Dogs of Europe. Yet representing Belarus at the most prestigious art festival remained a remote aspiration. Khalezin, himself a ex-curator, had once held aspirations to represent Belarus at Venice decades earlier, only to be informed by authorities that he could choose performers only from an approved list. Under Alexander Lukashenko’s iron grip since 1994, such artistic liberty has remained impossible.
This year, however, the vision has ultimately come to fruition—albeit not through the founders themselves. Instead, their daughter Daniella Kaliada has stepped into charge, directing the entire installation. Walking through the Warsaw studio in a baseball cap and loafers, she meticulously oversees every detail, from treating freshly bought surveillance cameras to make them seem worn, to coordinating with international collaborators. Her hands-on approach reflects the project’s deeply personal nature: bringing the untold stories of Belarusian suffering to the world stage, bypassing the censorship and control that silenced her parents’ voices for so long.
- Khalezin formerly prevented from selecting autonomous Belarusian performers by state officials
- Lukashenko has ruled Belarus since 1994, detaining thousands of political dissidents
- Daughter Daniella Kaliada now directs the Venice Biennale installation project
- Inaugural visual arts exhibition by Belarus Free Theatre, moving away from theatrical tradition
Developing sensory distress
The flavour of imprisonment
Perhaps the most remarkable element of the installation is a custom-created dish developed by Rasmus Munk, recently voted the world’s leading chef. At his two Michelin star restaurant in Copenhagen, Munk has been creating a course intended to evoke the psychological and physical experience of confinement within an authoritarian government. The dish constitutes a significant departure from standard culinary approaches, converting the act of eating into a political gesture. Visitors to the Venice Biennale will actually consume the flavour of oppression, making the exhibition’s central themes in a visceral and unforgettable way real.
Complementing the taste experience is a bespoke scent designed deliberately for the installation. The fragrance has been crafted to replicate an unsettling, deeply disturbing aroma: that of a recent grave in the Belarus rural landscape during late August, adorned with rotting flowers. This olfactory experience transforms the display area into an fully engaging space where visitors cannot remain detached observers. By stimulating multiple sensory channels, the artists push spectators to confront the brutal reality of authoritarian control not as conceptual notion, but as lived, embodied trauma.
Sound and sculpture
The sonic environment of Official. Unofficial. Belarus. blends organ music with the mechanical noise of an angle-grinder, creating an unsettling sonic landscape that disorients and provokes. This auditory backdrop accompanies monumental sculptures, including a tall iron cross adorned with weathered surveillance cameras—symbols of perpetual governmental surveillance and control. The interplay of sacred and profane imagery, combined with the discordant soundtrack, generates a intensely disturbing viewing experience. Every element has been deliberately chosen to provoke, to alert audiences that in Belarus, even spiritual spaces afford no shelter from state monitoring.
Central to the artistic story is Nicolai Khalezin’s provocative creation: a massive ball built completely out of banned books. The sphere incorporates literary works prohibited by Lukashenko’s regime, including children’s beloved titles like Harry Potter, Nobel Prize-winning author Svetlana Alexievich’s non-fiction, and an illustrated history of sexuality. This enormous sphere rests unsteadily on the claw of a bulldozer—a visual metaphor for the regime’s systematic destruction of intellectual freedom. The installation converts censorship into tangible form, making the invisible machinery of repression starkly apparent to global viewers.
- Bespoke fragrance replicates grave-like odours from Belarus rural landscape in late August
- Pipe organ sounds and grinding machine noise create intentionally unsettling auditory landscape
- Security cameras mounted on iron crucifix symbolise ongoing governmental surveillance and regulation
Personal expense of artistic resistance
For the creators behind Official. Unofficial. Belarus., this display constitutes significantly beyond a curatorial exercise or creative challenge. Many of those engaged have paid an extraordinary personal cost for their commitment to documenting and exposing government violence. Natalia Kaliada and Nicolai Khalezin fled Belarus in 2011 subsequent to years of harassment, confinement and torture at the hands of Lukashenko’s state apparatus. Their decision to create this work at Venice’s most renowned venue represents an act of defiance, turning pain into testimony. The exhibition becomes a tribute to those still suffering under authoritarian governance, whilst also functioning as a alert to the worldwide community about the ramifications of unrestrained state authority.
The troupe’s members bear invisible scars alongside their artistic vision. A number have endured detention in Belarusian prisons enduring questioning and violent treatment for their performance art. Others have witnessed the disappearance of colleagues and friends into the apparatus of governmental control. Yet rather than suppress their voices, these experiences have strengthened their artistic commitment. By presenting their accounts in Venice, they guarantee that the world must confront Belarus’s suffering. The installation functions as an act of remembrance and resistance simultaneously, honouring those whose voices have been forcibly silenced by the regime.
Sacrifices and survival
The progression from political prisoner to globally recognised creator has been far from straightforward or easy. Khalezin’s initial professional ambitions were thwarted when government officials attempted to dictate which artists could represent Belarus on the international platform. His refusal to accept state censorship of creative work led to increasing surveillance and intimidation. The act of departing from his native country was made only after careful thought; it represented the loss of career connections, ties to loved ones, and the chance to ever creating independently in Belarus again. Yet this enforced departure also gave the distance and safety necessary to create increasingly bold political work.
Survival, for Belarus Free Theatre, has meant transformation and growth. Operating from London, the company has continued producing provocative theatre whilst simultaneously building worldwide collaborative partnerships. The Venice Biennale constitutes a peak of this survival approach—reframing forced departure from a condition of loss into a place of creative strength. By resisting suppression or overlooked, these artists ensure that Belarus continues present on the world stage, their work functioning as a ongoing warning that artistic expression should never be presumed anywhere.
Contesting international legitimacy
The Venice Biennale presentation carries profound political weight outside of its artistic merit. By displaying Belarus Free Theatre’s work on one of the planet’s most celebrated cultural stages, the installation directly challenges the international legitimacy that Alexander Lukashenko’s regime has persistently pursued. The dictator has continually sought to present Belarus as a stable, culturally vibrant nation deserving of global recognition and economic ties. This exhibition deliberately undermines that deliberately built facade, uncovering the reality of systematic oppression, pervasive surveillance, and authoritarian violence that characterises daily life within an authoritarian system.
The choice to showcase the work at Venice—rather than through traditional political avenues or human rights groups—proves strategically important. Art holds a unique power to surpass conventional diplomatic limits and connect with audiences who might otherwise reject political messaging as propaganda. By embedding testimonies of torture, imprisonment, and fear within an immersive sensory experience, the artists ensure that international visitors cannot passively absorb information about Belarus’s suffering. Instead, they are compelled to face the human toll of dictatorship through their bodies and emotions, producing enduring impressions that statistics and policy documents cannot achieve.
- The installation undermines regime’s global standing and artistic legitimacy
- Physical encounter makes authoritarian control starkly tangible for global audiences
- Venice stage amplifies expatriate artists’ voices outside of standard political channels
Young people taking the lead
What makes this Venice project especially remarkable is that it has been orchestrated not by the theatre’s founding members, but by their daughter Daniella Kaliada. At an age when many of her peers are building traditional career paths, she has taken the helm of one of the most daring creative initiatives at this year’s Biennale. Moving through the studio in a baseball cap and loafers, she meticulously oversees every detail—from ensuring surveillance cameras are sanded to look weathered and authentic, to liaising with international artists and chefs. Her direct engagement signals a generational passing of the torch, with younger exiles refusing to let their homeland’s struggles fade from global consciousness.
Daniella’s leadership reflects a wider trend among Belarus’s diaspora: youth who came of age under Lukashenko’s rule are now channelling their experiences into artistic expression, activism, and cultural opposition. Rather than viewing exile as defeat, they are weaponising their displacement, converting trauma into testimony. This intergenerational dedication ensures that Belarus stays a living concern rather than a past reference. By positioning young people at the heart of this artistic resistance, BFT demonstrates that the fight against authoritarianism is not confined to those who remember pre-dictatorship life, but belongs equally to those formed wholly by oppression.