German artist, journalist and author Marita Vollborn has been selected as a featured artist for the 9th Chianciano Biennale 2026 in Tuscany, where her bronze sculpture ARES will be on view from 15 to 29 August. In a wide-ranging conversation, Vollborn explains why she has decided not to offer the work to galleries and museums in the United States at this time, reflects on the political responsibilities of contemporary art, and draws parallels between her experiences growing up in the former GDR and current developments.
Marita, you have decided not to offer the sculpture ARES, currently on display at the Chianciano Biennale, to galleries and museums in the United States. Why?
I decided not to offer ARES to U.S. galleries and museums at present because critical art comes before commerce. ARES is not a decorative object. Named after the Greek god of war, it does not present the idealized, armored hero of classical mythology, but the bloodthirsty, unrestrained force that knows neither mercy nor limit. Created in 2015, it feels uncomfortably contemporary. It confronts militarism, violence, and above all the greed for profit that drives many conflicts. More than eighty million deaths in two world wars were apparently not enough to end the arms race and the systematic exploitation of war.
The American people democratically elected their president. That decision must be respected. What I cannot accept is the erosion of checks and balances, particularly in foreign policy, and the casual consideration of military options against sovereign territories. Wars — and even the open threat of war — are a no-go for me. As long as institutional counterweights do not function reliably again and travel as well as open discourse for critical voices do not feel predictably safe, I prefer European and international platforms. This is not a boycott born of hostility toward the American people. It is a deliberate decision based on principle. Art should not be used to quietly decorate or endorse developments that endanger peace, international law, or the sovereignty of others. An empty pedestal instead of the bronze would itself be a statement — an absence that raises the question under which conditions critical works can still be shown.
Does this not mean you are forgoing enormous sales opportunities?
Possibly. But my guiding principle remains: critical art comes before commerce. As a former investigative journalist, I know how difficult it is to place critical content within commercial structures. ARES is not meant to please. It is meant to confront. Anyone who wishes to encounter the sculpture can do so at the Chianciano Biennale 2026 in Tuscany. There it stands among works by around three hundred international artists, in a setting where art can still ask hard questions without being immediately absorbed by the machinery of power.
How political does art have to be?
Art has always been political, whether it admits it or not. It is both a mirror and a warning. My series Sinn und Scherben (“Sense and Shards”) explores human ambivalence — strength and fragility, power and guilt. ARES stands at the more confrontational end of that spectrum. In a time when power politics shape global stability, the European tradition of art — from Goya to Käthe Kollwitz to the post-war avant-garde — carries a particular responsibility to speak clearly. ARES is not anti-American. It is anti-militarist and anti-greed, regardless of where these forces arise.
People, however, prefer pleasing figures. They do not want to be reminded of their own failures. How do you see that?
I know this well. The market often demands the decorative. I deliberately resist that. My figures are honest. They show what moves people from within — including the uncomfortable. Pleasing art soothes. Confrontational art demands that we look closely and ask the question ARES has always posed: Who profits? And what are we prepared to do so that the answer is no longer written in blood?
Your art is avant-garde and critical. Do you fear being arrested when entering the United States?
I do not speculate about individual measures. What I observe is that travel and open discourse for critical voices currently do not appear predictably safe and open. That is why I have chosen, for the time being, not to offer ARES there. This is caution rooted in principle, not panic.
And how does this compare with your past in the GDR?
I was born in 1965 in Erfurt, in the German Democratic Republic. I grew up under a system that censored art, philosophy, and free thought. At school we were taught what we were supposed to believe; at home and in quiet conversations we learned how costly it is when institutions meant to limit power become instruments of that power themselves. In 1989 I stood with many others in the peaceful protests that contributed to the fall of the Berlin Wall. That experience left me with a lasting conviction: democracy is not merely the right to vote once. It is the ongoing existence of functioning checks and balances, the rule of law, and the freedom to speak uncomfortable truths without the ground suddenly shifting beneath one’s feet. I know the difference between genuine institutional restraint and its mere façade. That is why I take this question so seriously.
Thank you very much for the interview.
