Rethinking the pavilion as a site of cultural sovereignty, Nigeria challenges the limits of global inclusion and redefines its role within the art world.
For Nigeria’s return to the Venice Biennale in 2028, the question is no longer how to be included, but how to hold authorship. Curator Richard Vedelago reflects on the limitations of participation within global art structures and outlines a curatorial approach grounded in ownership, long-term infrastructure, and artist-led inquiry. The pavilion emerges not as an event, but as part of a broader system reshaping how value, narrative, and power circulate. Suzette Bell-Roberts speaks to curator Richard Vedelago about this shift in policy.
Richard Vedelago, founder of Windsor Gallery and Nahous
Suzette Bell-Roberts: Nigeria has framed its return to the Venice Biennale not as participation but as a structural intervention. What prompted this shift in thinking at a curatorial level?
Richard Vedelago: It comes from a very direct understanding: participation without ownership is limited. For a long time, being included in global platforms was seen as progress. But inclusion doesn’t necessarily shift who is speaking, who is framing, or who is holding value. You can be present and still be interpreted through someone else’s lens. At a curatorial level, that becomes a problem. Because the role of curation is not just to show work; it’s to hold the conditions under which that work is understood. So the shift is simple in principle but significant in practice: we are taking ownership of our voice, our context, and our presence. Venice is not where we go to be seen. It’s where we go to speak, clearly, on our own terms and where the world begins to understand that Nigeria, and Africa more broadly, are not extensions of a global market. We are a market in ourselves.
How do you translate this move from presence to authorship into a curatorial methodology that is both intellectually rigorous and institutionally durable?
For me, authorship is something that has to be built, not declared. Through Windsor Gallery, working across different cities and audiences, I’ve learnt that curatorial practice cannot exist in isolation. Each exhibition sits within a wider ecosystem of collectors, conversations, and cultural context. That forces a level of rigour, because the work has to hold across multiple spaces and perspectives. At Nahous, that thinking expands further. It’s not just about exhibitions; it’s about creating a living environment where ideas move between disciplines, where artists can develop over time, and where experimentation is part of the structure.
Honourable Minister Hannatu Musa Musawa and Richard Vedelago.
The Federal Ministry’s role signals a more assertive governmental investment in culture. How does this progressive stance toward formalising the art economy shape your curatorial thinking, particularly in relation to infrastructure, sustainability, and value creation?
It reinforces something we’ve already been working through: that culture is infrastructure. One of the biggest gaps has never been creativity; it’s been systems. How work circulates, how value is retained, how artists are supported beyond individual moments. With a more formalised approach, curatorial thinking can expand beyond the exhibition. You start thinking about how projects fit within a larger framework and how they contribute to building something that lasts. Sustainability becomes about continuity of practice, not just visibility. And value creation becomes internal. We are not seeking validation from the outside; we are structuring and holding value within our own ecosystem.
As Nigeria positions culture as economic capital and diplomatic currency, how do you ensure that this formalisation of the art economy remains artist-centred, rather than subsumed by market or state agendas?
It comes down to protecting the space where the artist operates. There’s always a risk that, as systems grow, whether market-driven or state-led, the artist becomes secondary to the structure. That has to be actively resisted. In my own work, that means creating environments where artists are not expected to produce a fixed outcome. At Windsor, that’s about supporting the evolution of their practice over time. At Nahous, it’s about allowing for experimentation that doesn’t immediately translate into market value. In Venice, the same principle applies. The pavilion cannot become a tool of representation; it has to remain a space of inquiry. Ownership has to sit with the artist as much as it does with the institution.
Honourable Minister Hannatu Musa Musawa.
At a moment when several African nations are rethinking their presence at the Venice Biennale, what does leadership look like in this context, and how can Nigeria’s model contribute to a more sustained, interconnected continental cultural infrastructure?
Leadership here is about building with intention and with others. There is already strong activity across the continent, but it often exists in pockets. What’s needed now is stronger connections among institutions, curators, and artists so we are not operating in isolation. Nigeria has the scale to help drive that, but it’s not about centralising power. It’s about creating frameworks that others can engage with, shared platforms, collaborations, and exchanges. If we are serious about ownership, then it has to extend beyond national borders. It has to be continental.
The decision to pause between 2024 and 2028 signals a refusal of biennial immediacy. What did that period of recalibration reveal about the limitations of previous models, and how will those lessons materially reshape the pavilion’s form?
It revealed that too much had been compressed into too little time. When everything is built around immediacy, depth suffers. Research becomes limited, relationships become short-term, and the work doesn’t have the space to fully develop. The pause creates room to build properly. To spend time on research, to engage artists more deeply, and to construct something that is not just reactive. For 2028, the pavilion will emerge from a longer process. It will be built over time, not assembled at the last minute. That changes its nature; it moves from being an event to becoming part of a larger, ongoing structure.
Under the Nigeria Everywhere platform, Venice is positioned within a broader economic and diplomatic ecosystem. How do you negotiate the tension between artistic autonomy and the pavilion’s role as an instrument of cultural policy and national strategy?
The balance is in making sure the work leads. There is no issue with culture being recognised as economic or diplomatic capital; that’s important. But the moment strategy dictates content, you lose the integrity of the work. So the structure has to be clear. The pavilion sits within a national framework, but the curatorial process remains independent. That’s how you maintain both artistic autonomy and broader alignment, without compromising either.
The language of cultural sovereignty suggests a reclaiming of narrative authority. How might the 2028 pavilion resist the expectations of the global art circuit while still engaging it on equal terms?
It starts with confidence in what we are building. We don’t need to adjust our work to meet external expectations. We need to be clear in our voice and consistent in our approach. Through Windsor Gallery, we’ve been building a collector base and a programme that stands on its own. Through Nahous, we’re creating new forms of practice that aren’t confined by existing structures. Venice is an extension of that. We are not there to be interpreted. We are there with a clear voice, a clear presence, and a clear understanding that we operate as a market, an ecosystem, and a cultural force. The shift is simple: the world doesn’t define how we are seen, we define how we are understood.
Nigeria will return to the Venice Biennale in 2028.
