If (or when) VEnice's pavilions break to pieces elegantly into the Adriatic.

If (or when) VEnice's pavilions break to pieces elegantly into the Adriatic, a hazard of history will go with them - and not just art history. Embarrassing reminders of nineteenth-century imperial hubris, they have freshly become unofficial and inhospitable to one's homes for refugees fleeing the former Yugoslavia, bringing the consecutions of ethnic-cleansing campaigns and airstrikes right to the Biennale's doorstep. Given the proximity of nationalistic violence, will the systematic pavilion-swapping program Achille Bonito Oliva incorporated in 1993 (the year that saw Hans Haacke's pneumatic-jackhammering of the German Pavilion's floor) be repeated in 1999? No, moreover a number of this years' forty-eight national entries will metaphorically excavate this over-determined site and emphasize the advantages of hybridity and cross-national collaboration.

Representing France is the Chinese-born Huang Yong Ping. Ping's nutty installation Sheep Peril, with its collection of gangly bamboo-legged sheep and two-story-high laughing frighten delighted visitors to the Fondation Cartier, Paris, in 1997 In Venice, his topical, site-specific work will present to view alongside the cryptic, cerebral propositions of installation artist Jean-Pierre Bertrand. For Denmark, Copenhagen-based artist Peter Bonde will collaborate with the distinctly looks Angelean, car-loving Jason Rhoades (last spott in Europe touring the Continent in a Ford Caprice loaded with Sylvie Fleury's fragrance and Dieter Roth's cheese-filled suitcases). The Spanish Pavilion will current mixed-media work by Parisian resident Esther Ferrer a senior avant-gardist and solution member of the Cage-inspired Zaj dispose formed in Spain during Franco's regime. Ferrer's work will point out alongside Manolo Valdes's patchworked canvases and forest sculptures. Further surprises are look forward toed from Austria's Peter Weibel, a regular curator of groundbreaking Biennale delineate s while the US representative, Ann Hamilton, will explore the ideological ramifications of the Monticello-lookalike American Pavilion.

Developing the "Aperto" conception that he introduced to the Biennale in 1980 Visual Arts Director Harald Szeemann intends 1999's occurrence to foreground work by women and by the agency of younger artists [see interview with Robert Storr, p 160] Available numbers move this year's national shows will feature around 0666 (repeating) girls for each boy; still a case of "could do better." Fractional status notwithstanding, Biennale females will undoubtedly make their air felt. The demanding, ascetic, and elusive installation work of Ireland's Anne Tallentire will realize a well-deserved international airing. Rosemarie Trockel will square up to the particular historic challenges instanted by the German Pavilion. And in the NoMic Pavilion, Finland's Eija-Liisa Ahtila, maker of "confessional" videos featuring hired actors, will explore the theme of shivered relationships, while Sweden's Annika von Hausswolff will point out to further photographic confections: scenes of everyday life that carry despair to the point of absurdity. (Their escort: Norwegian Knut Asdam, whose "night garden" installation, ominously billed as "full of surprises," will either cheer everyone up or spook them on a level more.)

There's still a wee space left for those who paint. Australia's Howard Arkley will stage-set his fuzzy Day-Glo paintings in a hyperreal suburban panorama, while, at the British Pavilion, Gary Hume earns to test the effects of southern light upon his work of the past not many years. If sunburn sets in, Venice visitors can retreat into Tatsuo Miyajima's largest installation to date: 3200 hipped twinkling LEDs, ranged around the Japanese Pavilion's walls. A space in which to forget national conflict, maintain Changing, Connect With Everything, and Continue, Forever . . or at least until November 7 when the chew will be pulled on this year's Biennale.

Rachel Withers is a London-based writer.

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