Conscious living letter #8

Freiburg art biennale, The Happy Place, nostalgia and melancholy.

Jul 04, 2025

Dear Conscious Reader,

Happy Friday!

You might recall that I once sneaked out to check out an exhibition, stumbled upon serendipitously, leaving my children with their father at the playground. It was such an unexpected, rejuvenating, though brief artist date.

Since then, I’ve been searching for more art experiences, which led me to the Freiburg Biennale this month. I was thrilled to learn that my humble city also hosts an art biennale. My first experience with them was in Singapore, followed by Venice, the mother of all art biennales.

Last Sunday, risking heatstroke on one of the record-breaking hottest days of the year, I dragged my family out to get a dose of culture and art.

We welcomed the coolness of the Kunstverein (Art Gallery) as we stepped in from the heat. Inside, it’s all white with ceilings reaching up to the sky, with a second-floor mezzanine skirting the walls. It felt like we had walked into a blank canvas, ready to be painted as we wished.

My kids were instantly thrilled to see two giant copper prawns suspended in the air. Shortly after, they were distracted by a wavy screen showing an artist exploring an old Roman building, half-submerged in water. The power of a screen cannot be denied. After that, they were quickly bored, and my daughter's energy had dipped dangerously low—lunch is imminent.

After lunch, we braved the heat again to visit an old public toilet converted to host various artistic exhibitions throughout the year. It was a little unnerving to be hanging out in a public toilet, even if it is no longer in use.

Then we headed to the Skulpturenpark (sculpture park). We got lucky because one of the artists happened to be there, and he gave us an impromptu guide through the park. My children’s favourite in the end was jumping up and down on beanbags at a Beach Bar mockup.

The Freiburg Biennale’s theme is “The Happy Place”. It explores tourism and how, at the front, it is all about leisure, fun, and joy, but behind the scenes, it is at the cost of many through slavery, poverty, colonialism, transforming cultures, and compromising values. They call it the “cruel optimism”.

A quote by Agnes Essonti Luque, displayed with a series of photographs, struck me:

Where is a happy place for you? Have you ever wondered what the costs are to make it possible?

Do share your thoughts with me. I wish you a meaningful and artistic weekend!

Consciously yours,
Rachel

For conscious living

Nostalgia and melancholy

As I wrote an essay about my beloved hometown, the one place I truly felt I belonged, the one place I could call home, and the one place I would love to answer the question of where I am from, I experienced a mixture of nostalgia and melancholy. And I wonder, what are these feelings? In the movie Inside Out 2, twice Nostalgia—depicted as an old lady with a cane—came out from her room to join the crew, and was quickly ushered back in by Anxiety, saying, “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

Does nostalgia then come with age? When we have grown old enough and have distanced ourselves enough from the past, a past we possibly wish to revisit or long for, but know we can never have it again. It won’t be the same. The places change. The people change. We change. At some point, nostalgia spills over into melancholy, and sometimes I struggle to differentiate between the two. I am a melancholic person. My favourite season is autumn. I like to dwell in bittersweet emotions. What about you?

For sharing

I have these memories by
Noha Beshir

I enjoyed following

Noha Beshir

as she walked down her memory lane, vividly describing pockets of scenes.

I have these memories of riding our bikes along the river trail with Baba at the front, weaving between the walkers and the Canada Geese and smelling the breeze off the water and speeding up so we could pass each other and coming home smelling of sweat and dirt and victory.