by Raymond Rose // Aug. 26, 2025
A lone barstool on a low stage, dim lighting, tables carved with text…is this a grimy comedy club in a Brooklyn basement? No, it’s the Berlin Biennale!
Mila Panić, an artist and comedian from Bosnia, has set up an installation in KW as part of the 13th Berlin Biennale, titled ‘Big Mouth,’ in which she has been performing punchy stand-up shows since the opening in June. Each iteration of ‘Big Mouth’ has two sets: one by Panić herself and the other by a guest comedian. On the night I attended, she was joined by Victor Patrascan, who brought a sharp-edged humor to the stage.
Mila Panić: ‘While Other Kids Played with Legos,’ 2024/25, installation view, 13th Berlin Biennale, KW Institute for Contemporary Art, 2025 // © Mila Panić; eastcontemporary; image by Eberle & Eisfeld
Panić started the night by warming up the crowd, teasing the newcomers and asking what everyone did for a living. As she went around, it was quickly clear that this is a crowd full of art professionals—artists, curators, museum guards. From the start, then, ‘Big Mouth’ exposed the insularity of the audience, while setting the stage for a show that thrived on confrontation.
In an earlier interview, Berlin Biennale curator Zasha Colah spoke about the use of comedy in the biennial, saying that “even in the moment of torture, these artists are using strategies of humor to remain whole and to keep thinking… dark humor, in particular, is not just a panacea that makes you survive pain, but is something that allows the thinking body to keep working.”
The Biennale has gotten lukewarm (at best) reviews from Frieze, Hyperallergic and ARTNews. These critics claim that the Biennale positions itself as subversive while being unable to outright mention current crises—namely, the genocide of the Palestinian people. Panić’s show cuts through this, jumping from the war in her home country of Bosnia to Ukraine to Palestine, all with a sharp, disarming humor. Many of Panić’s jokes hinge on mass suffering: children being massacred, communities destroyed by war. However, she “punched up” with these jokes, mocking systems of violence and those who perpetuate them. For instance, Netanyahu’s bad combover became a target, as she ridiculed him for the “inherent right of self-defense” of his hairline.
Mila Panić: ‘While Other Kids Played with Legos,’ 2024/25, installation view, 13th Berlin Biennale, KW Institute for Contemporary Art, 2025 // © Mila Panić; eastcontemporary; image by Eberle & Eisfeld
Yet, the relentlessness of the controversial jokes started to create palpable audience discomfort. At times, the laughter turned awkward, replaced by an uneasy silence with a few polite chuckles. The room seemed torn: were these jokes crossing lines? Was the person next to me uncomfortable because they thought that laughing made them complicit in atrocities happening in real time, or because they refused to acknowledge them as atrocities in the first place? It seemed reflective of the German cultural sphere and ironic, in a way: a whole room of cultural workers navigating in real time what was or wasn’t politically acceptable.
Whether or not every joke landed, ‘Big Mouth’ leaned into the risk and did what the Biennale on a whole sometimes struggles to achieve: it was unapologetically, confrontationally political.
There are still two opportunities to see ‘Big Mouth’—first on August 28th with Sasha Dologopov, and then again on September 11th with Tamer Kattan. For those finding the Biennale too timid, for those seeking an unabashed call for a free Palestine, Panić’s show may be exactly what you’re looking for.
Artist Info
Exhibition Info
13th Berlin Biennale
Mila Panić: ‘Big Mouth’
Performances: Aug. 28, 2025; 8:30pm / Sept. 11, 2025; 8:30pm
13.berlinbiennale.de
KW, Auguststraße 69, 10117 Berlin, click here for map
