All this captured large crowds for Nauman, yet did not diminish one of the central aspects of the Nauman experience: the remarkable immersion he achieves for viewers through economical, seemingly simple gestures.
At the Nauman-filled U.S. Pavilion, you found yourself in a sea of dancing hands, each one twisted to its own pose and possible purpose, in a room devoted to Fifteen Pairs of Hands (1996).
More than a few canal-crossings away, at the Universit Ca'Foscari, concepts of confinement and freedom became personal in Double Steel Cage Piece (1974) to the point of inducing a panic attack; to fully engage, you had to squeeze through a foot-wide gap between a large cage and a slightly smaller one. (University guards started a score sheet to track how many people dared to walk the walk.)
At a third venue, the Universit Iuav, a small room lighted by a 10-watt bulb drew you into a mood of reduced expectations - until you began to hear menacing whispers leaking from behind blank walls. The angry 1968 piece, Get Out of My Mind, Get Out of This Room, gives Hitchcock a run for his money.
You won't get the full Nauman treatment of 33 works in Philadelphia. When the Art Museum's collaboration with the American artist-philosopher ends today after a nearly six-month run at the Biennale, the museum will not crate it up and import it to Philadelphia, as it did with its 1988 Jasper Johns show. Rather, it is bringing home only two souvenirs: Days and Giorni. But they are gems.
