A collective of exiled Belarusian artists are showcasing the atrocities of autocratic suppression to the Venice Biennale, the world’s largest modern art festival. Belarus Free Theatre, founded by political dissidents who have endured imprisonment and torture under dictator Alexander Lukashenko’s regime, is unveiling their first major art installation, called Official. Unofficial. Belarus. The multimedia project, developed in a Warsaw studio by artists, sculptors, composers and even a celebrated chef, translates the sensory elements of totalitarian terror into a visceral artistic experience. Rather than a conventional theatre production, the display combines a installation of banned books, wheat-based installations, a iron crucifix laden with surveillance, and a custom-designed food creation intended to capture the reality of imprisonment under an authoritarian regime.
From discrimination to haven
The journey from Belarus to Venice has been far from straightforward for Natalia Kaliada and Nicolai Khalezin, the theatre company’s co-founders. Based in London since their exile in 2011, they have produced some of Europe’s most provocative political drama, from the celebrated Being Harold Pinter to the Olivier-nominated opera Dogs of Europe. Yet representing their homeland at the world’s most prestigious art festival remained a remote aspiration. Khalezin, himself a ex-curator, had once harboured ambitions to represent Belarus at Venice decades earlier, only to be told by the government 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, though, the vision has at last materialised—though 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 look aged, to coordinating with international collaborators. Her direct involvement reflects the project’s intimate character: 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 government authorities
- Lukashenko has governed Belarus since 1994, detaining thousands of political dissidents
- Daughter Daniella Kaliada now oversees the Venice Biennale installation project
- Inaugural visual arts exhibition by Belarus Free Theatre, moving away from theatre conventions
Developing sensory trauma
The character of confinement
Perhaps the most notable element of the installation is a bespoke dish created by Rasmus Munk, recently voted the world’s best chef. At his two Michelin star restaurant in Copenhagen, Munk has been developing a course meant to evoke the physical and psychological experience of imprisonment under an authoritarian government. The dish embodies a radical departure from conventional culinary practice, transforming the act of eating into a political statement. Visitors to the Venice Biennale will actually consume the taste of oppression, making the exhibition’s central themes viscerally, unforgettably real.
Complementing the taste experience is a specially created aroma commissioned specifically for the installation. The fragrance has been crafted to replicate an deeply disquieting aroma: that of a recent grave in the Belarusian countryside during late August, adorned with decaying blooms. This smell-based immersion transforms the exhibition space into an multisensory setting where visitors cannot stay passive viewers. By engaging multiple senses simultaneously, the artists force audiences to grapple with the stark reality of governmental oppression not as theoretical idea, but as lived, embodied trauma.
Sound and sculpture
The sonic environment of Official. Unofficial. Belarus. weaves together organ music with the grinding sound of an angle-grinder, generating an unsettling sonic landscape that disorients and provokes. This sound design accompanies monumental sculptural works, including a tall iron cross adorned with weathered surveillance cameras—symbols of perpetual governmental surveillance and control. The contrast between sacred and profane imagery, paired with the discordant soundtrack, produces a profoundly unsettling viewing experience. Every element has been deliberately chosen to disturb, to inform observers that in Belarus, even spiritual spaces provide no sanctuary from governmental surveillance.
Central to the artistic story is Nicolai Khalezin’s controversial work: a enormous sphere constructed entirely from banned books. The sphere incorporates published texts forbidden under Lukashenko’s regime, such as children’s favourites like Harry Potter, Nobel Prize-winning author Svetlana Alexievich’s factual works, and an visual account of sexuality. This massive ball rests precariously upon the claw of a bulldozer—a visual metaphor for the regime’s relentless crushing of freedom of thought. The installation transforms censorship into physical reality, making the invisible machinery of repression suddenly, shockingly visible to global viewers.
- Custom scent replicates grave-like odours from Belarusian countryside in August’s final weeks
- Organ music and angle-grinder sounds create intentionally unsettling auditory landscape
- Surveillance cameras positioned atop metal cross symbolise ongoing governmental surveillance and control
Personal cost of artistic defiance
For the artists behind Official. Unofficial. Belarus., this exhibition constitutes considerably more than a curation project or artistic challenge. Several of the people engaged have paid an extraordinary personal cost for their devotion to recording and revealing state brutality. Natalia Kaliada and Nicolai Khalezin left Belarus in 2011 after 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 stage represents an gesture of resistance, converting suffering into witness. The display becomes a memorial to those continuing to suffer under authoritarian governance, whilst also functioning as a warning to the global community about the ramifications of unrestrained state authority.
The troupe’s members bear invisible scars alongside their creative expression. Several have experienced detention in Belarusian prisons enduring questioning and violent treatment for their theatrical work. Others have observed the disappearance of colleagues and friends into the machinery of state repression. Yet rather than silence them, these experiences have deepened their creative dedication. By bringing their stories to Venice, they guarantee that the world cannot ignore Belarus’s suffering. The installation functions as an act of remembrance and resistance simultaneously, honouring those whose voices have been suppressed by force by the regime.
Sacrifice and survival
The path from political prisoner to international artist has been far from straightforward or easy. Khalezin’s initial professional ambitions were undermined when government officials sought to control which artists could act as representatives for Belarus on the global stage. His refusal to accept state censorship of artistic expression led to growing monitoring and pressure. The decision to abandon his homeland was not undertaken without serious consideration; it constituted the loss of career connections, ties to loved ones, and the chance to ever working freely within Belarus again. Yet this enforced departure also provided the separation and protection necessary to create progressively more courageous artistic statements.
Continuance, for Belarus Free Theatre, has meant adapting and evolving. Operating from London, the company has maintained creating confrontational performances whilst concurrently establishing worldwide collaborative partnerships. The Venice Biennale constitutes a pinnacle of this endurance plan—converting displacement from a state of deprivation into a stance of artistic authority. By resisting suppression or erased, these artists confirm that Belarus continues present on the international scene, their work serving as a persistent reminder that artistic freedom must not be assumed anywhere.
Disputing international legitimacy
The Venice Biennale exhibition carries deep political importance separate from its artistic merit. By presenting Belarus Free Theatre’s work on one of the world’s most prestigious cultural stages, the installation directly challenges the international legitimacy that Alexander Lukashenko’s regime has long sought. The dictator has continually sought to present Belarus as a vibrant and stable cultural nation worthy of global acknowledgement and commercial relationships. This display systematically dismantles that carefully constructed facade, revealing the reality of systematic repression, surveillance, and state violence that marks daily life under authoritarian rule.
The choice to present the work at Venice—rather than through conventional political channels or human rights organisations—proves strategically significant. Art possesses a unique power to surpass conventional diplomatic limits and reach audiences who might otherwise dismiss political messaging as propaganda. By weaving testimonies of torture, imprisonment, and fear within an immersive sensory experience, the artists guarantee that international visitors cannot passively consume information about Belarus’s suffering. Instead, they are forced to confront the human toll of dictatorship through their bodies and emotions, creating enduring impressions that statistics and policy papers cannot achieve.
- Installing it damages regime’s worldwide reputation and cultural credibility
- Physical encounter makes repression profoundly immediate for international viewers
- Venice platform amplifies exiled artists’ voices beyond traditional political debate
Young people taking the lead
What renders this Venice project particularly striking is that it has been orchestrated not by the theatre’s founders, but by their daughter Daniella Kaliada. At an age when many of her peers are establishing conventional careers, she has assumed leadership of one of the most daring creative initiatives at this year’s Biennale. Walking around 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 hands-on involvement signals a generational passing of the torch, with younger exiles determined not to allow their homeland’s struggles fade from global consciousness.
Daniella’s leadership reflects a wider trend among Belarus’s diaspora: youth who grew up under Lukashenko’s rule are now channelling their experiences into art, activism, and cultural resistance. Rather than accepting exile as a setback, they are weaponising their displacement, transforming trauma into witness. This generational commitment ensures that Belarus stays a living concern rather than a historical footnote. By placing youth at the centre of this artistic resistance, BFT demonstrates that the fight against authoritarianism is not limited to those who recall pre-dictatorship life, but belongs equally to those formed wholly by oppression.