CULTURE
Isabel Nolan's secular saints take over Venice Biennale
Irish artist at the Biennale celebrates scientists and humanists — including an Italian punctuation master
Eleonora Vanzetti380 wordsEdition №83Friday, 14 August 2026 — Edition № 83
The Irish pavilion at the Venice Biennale is a long way from the central exhibition, but the journey is worth it. Isabel Nolan, Ireland's artist at this year's Biennale, has filled the pavilion with works that steal religious imagery for secular celebrations of scientists and humanists, according to the Guardian's art critic.
Among the subjects of Nolan's veneration is an Italian punctuation master: the inventor of the semicolon, a figure whose contribution to European letters has rarely been honoured in such a setting. The artist's show also includes a portrait of Copernicus and, unexpectedly, Tony Soprano, the fictional mobster from the HBO series.
The exhibition, titled 'Sinner, Don't Let This Harvest Pass' in a nod to Schumann's enigmatic Ghost Variations, spirals outward from its musical source. Nolan's work at the Biennale — the world's most prestigious contemporary art exhibition — positions her as a singular voice in the Italian cultural calendar.
The Venice Biennale, which runs through late November, has long been the world's foremost platform for contemporary art, drawing critics and collectors from across the globe. This year's edition has placed particular emphasis on national pavilions, with Ireland's contribution among the most talked-about, the Guardian reported.
Nolan's practice has consistently drawn on art history, religious iconography and popular culture, weaving them into a distinctive visual language. Her use of religious imagery — typically reserved for saints and martyrs — to celebrate secular figures is a deliberate inversion, the Guardian's critic noted, one that speaks to contemporary debates about belief, science and cultural memory.
The inclusion of the semicolon's inventor is a particularly Italian touch. The punctuation mark was introduced in the late 15th century by the Venetian printer Aldus Manutius, a figure whose legacy looms large over the city's publishing history. Nolan's homage, seen through the lens of the Biennale, connects the Venetian tradition of fine printing to contemporary questions about language and communication.
The show also reflects a broader trend in this year's Biennale towards works that engage with history and memory, rather than purely formal experimentation. The Guardian's critic described Nolan's contribution as both intellectually rigorous and visually arresting, noting that the artist's ability to move between high and popular culture gives her work a rare accessibility.
As the Biennale enters its final months, the Irish pavilion has become a recommended stop for international visitors, the Guardian reported. The exhibition underscores the enduring appeal of Venice as a stage for artistic dialogue — and the capacity of a single artist to reframe how we see familiar figures, from Copernicus to a television mobster.
