A common ground for an open dialog
An interview with Abaseh Mirvali, an internationally renowned curator, cultural strategist and museum leader
The appointment of internationally renowned curator and museum director Abaseh Mirvali as Artistic Director of viennacontemporary (September 11–14, 2025) signals a paradigm shift in the positioning of Austria’s leading fair for contemporary art.
Born in Iran and raised in San Francisco, Abaseh Mirvali is an art and architecture curator and project producer with a career-long commitment to civic engagement and public service through innovative collaborations between contemporary art initiatives and the wider community. Over a global career spanning more than two decades—from Latin America to Europe, the U.S., and the Middle East—Mirvali has held leading roles at some of the most respected institutions in contemporary art. She directed Fundación/Colección Jumex Arte Contemporáneo in Mexico City, served as Executive Director, Chief Curator, and CEO of the Museum of Contemporary Art Santa Barbara, and led the Biennial of the Americas.
Beyond museums, she has contributed to major fairs and initiatives such as ArteBA, Artissima, miart, and Art Basel, helping to shape platforms that elevate emerging artists while connecting them to international audiences.
“My approach to leading viennacontemporary is grounded in strategy, collaboration, and a deep respect for the cultural and civic landscape of Vienna and Austria. I see this as an opportunity to strengthen institutional partnerships, deepen regional engagement, and expand our relevance internationally,” says Mirvali.
In addition to her curatorial work, Mirvali has a background in diplomacy, having served earlier in her career as Senior Advisor to the U.S. Ambassador for Culture and Education, where she created innovative art and educational programming through the U.S. Embassy in Mexico City.
Abaseh Mirvali is also personally radiant and inspiring; her intellect and energy are complemented by profound humanism, an enduring commitment to public service, and a determined vision to make a meaningful impact in today’s complex and ever-changing world.
What is your vision as Artistic Advisor for viennacontemporary 2025, especially following the announcement that you will take on the position of Artistic Director next year? How do you see your contribution—particularly given viennacontemporary’s aim to expand its global influence while remaining deeply rooted in Central and Eastern European culture?
My role this year, as Artistic Advisor and in transition to Artistic Director next year, was intentionally designed to allow me the time and space to develop a long-term vision—one that cannot be fully realized in just a few months. Many of the key elements shaping this edition—the architectural design, the talks program, curated sections, invited curators, jury members, and even the visual identity, including the striking poster image by Marina Faust—were guided by my direction. In many ways, this edition serves as a blueprint, offering a first glimpse of the markers of change.
Coming from a background as both a museum director and curator, I approach a fair much like an exhibition. The floor plan is the foundation: it dictates the physical experience as well as the intellectual and emotional rhythm of the fair. Working with architect Claudia Cavallar on the floor design has been deeply rewarding; her professionalism and architectural insight have been instrumental in shaping the fair’s spatial identity. Another significant change this year was relocating the Erste Foundation Statement exhibition from the center of the main floor to its own dedicated, architecturally striking 250-square-meter concrete space above the fair. This gives the show the focus and dignity it deserves, signaling its importance within the fair’s ecosystem.
Coming from a background as both a museum director and curator, I approach a fair much like an exhibition.
This shift posed a challenge: encouraging visitors to engage with the exhibition upstairs. As a curator, I have long struggled with exhibitions placed amid commercial booths—it can create confusion about purpose and engagement. By providing the Erste Statement exhibition its own space, I aimed to create a coherent visitor experience where the distinction between curated content and gallery presentations is intuitive.
I also moved the public talks entirely into the lobby, making them freely accessible to all. Art and ideas should be open, inviting, and widely available. This location also improves acoustics, creating a more meaningful environment for dialogue. My approach is guided by a belief that art should be accessible to everyone—not simplified, but framed in ways that resonate equally with seasoned scholars and curious first-time visitors.
This edition reflects the early stages of a larger shift: curatorially driven decisions grounded in operational pragmatism. Today, ambitious ideas must be aligned with resources and sustainability. Marrying vision with reality is not compromise—it is the only way to create lasting impact.
Today, ambitious ideas must be aligned with resources and sustainability. Marrying vision with reality is not compromise—it is the only way to create lasting impact.
How would you describe the role of art fairs in today’s art ecosystem? Are they evolving beyond their original purpose as marketplaces and meeting hubs to become more engaged with social and cultural conversations?
I think you’re absolutely right in saying that the fair functions as a kind of hybrid. It needs to satisfy, first and foremost, the need to support the art-making community in a commercial way—providing a platform, thanks to Vienna’s strategic location and the potential I believe it has. But it also needs to go beyond being just a four-day event and become a partner with everyone throughout the year. That’s why this role is full-time—not starting in February, but in October—so that planning can be strategic and proactive. Museums are often stretched and underfunded; if I know their programming in advance, I can identify ways to collaborate. Why can’t we be that helpful to each other? Acting as a support system while fostering intellectual exchange.
Being strategic is essential because everyone is stretched, and the fair can serve as a unifying space. This is where my personality comes in—even if my accent is challenging for some Germanic ears because it’s somewhat “American,” the “we do it together” ethos is integral to who I am. I think of myself as the Kirsten Dunst character in Bring It On—all cheerleader energy, enthusiasm, and team spirit. That energy is crucial within a cultural landscape that can sometimes feel siloed and competitive. One of my main goals is to act as a connector—someone who brings people together and, at least for a few days each year, makes the experience easier, richer, and more meaningful for everyone involved. When we achieve that, the fair becomes more than just an event; it transforms into an active participant in Austria’s broader cultural ecosystem, engaging Vienna, Central and Eastern Europe, and beyond.
One of my main goals is to act as a connector—someone who brings people together and, at least for a few days each year, makes the experience easier, richer, and more meaningful for everyone involved.
I also think of film as a useful analogy for this dynamic. Just as a film conveys layers of narrative, context, and emotion within a confined timeframe, a fair can communicate ideas, spark dialogue, and create lasting impressions, even within a compressed four-day schedule. The right programming, carefully curated talks, and a welcoming atmosphere allow visitors to experience the fair not just as a marketplace but as a story—a living, evolving narrative that reflects both the artistic landscape and the broader social and cultural conversations of our time.
And as you pointed out, exclusivity can be counterproductive. Contemporary art today intersects with lifestyle, identity, and broader cultural trends. If we create programming and experiences that engage new audiences—and some of them eventually become patrons, collectors, or supporters of the talks—that is already a success. Every collaboration, no matter how small, contributes to a stronger, more connected community. In this sense, the fair is both a commercial platform and a catalyst for dialogue, ideas, and connection—a place where art truly comes alive.
As someone with deep expertise in Latin American art, is there something specific from that part of the world that you think could inspire or enrich viennacontemporary?
Yes, to be honest, there’s so much I’ve learned as an adopted Mexican, and my relationship with Mexico continues to evolve in unexpected and meaningful ways. One of the biggest influences you’ll see reflected this year is food. I am Iranian by birth, and food has always been central to how I experience the world—what I eat, where it comes from, and the stories it carries are things I take very seriously.
Zona Maco in Mexico City was the first fair (globally) I attended where food wasn’t treated as an afterthought but as an integral part of the experience. You could eat extraordinarily well without spending much, and the variety was astonishing. A significant part of that came from my dear friends at Grupo Habita, who partnered with the fair. From the very beginning, they curated food concepts that mirrored the diverse geographies where they have hotels. So even though you were at the fair, you could suddenly find yourself savoring the vibrant flavors of Baja California or the deep, layered traditions of Oaxaca. Their chefs would fly in just for those five days, transforming the culinary offerings into something immersive and transportive. It was a reminder that art isn’t only visual—it can be tasted, shared, and remembered through food.
I’ve been thinking a lot about how we can make the fair a more holistic and enjoyable experience. Vienna has such an extraordinary culinary tradition, and I wanted to find ways to celebrate that within the fair itself. This year, we’ve dedicated close to 700 square meters to food—not to replace what already exists, but to complement and expand it.
We’re introducing a broader range of culinary options so that visiting the fair feels immersive, not just visually but also sensorially. There will be Levantine-inspired dishes, Austrian specialties, incredible pastries, and, of course, really great coffee with Ototo—which feels especially important in Vienna. My hope is that people will come to the fair and feel they don’t need to plan their meals elsewhere; they can have a complete experience here. We even have co-branded coffee with them, which features the beautiful image on our poster.
This is the first visible change you’ll notice. And it translates into energy: if people are enjoying themselves, they’ll want to stay. In Mexico City, the fairgrounds are literally an hour outside the city center with the most hellish traffic you can imagine, but people still go every day because it’s fun. I think we really need to embrace the idea of people having fun at the fair.
It’s an investment, and yes, it’s ambitious, but I believe good food fosters joy, conversation, and community. If someone leaves remembering not just the artworks they saw but also the incredible meal they had, that becomes part of the memory of the fair itself.
I believe we need to fully embrace the idea of people having fun at the fair. Of course, I understand that this means galleries are engaging with a wide spectrum of visitors—some seasoned collectors, others encountering contemporary art for the first time. To me, that’s part of the public service we provide as a fair: creating an environment that feels open, inviting, and inspiring rather than exclusive or intimidating.
I think that what I really take away from Latin America—and especially from my 20 years of connection with Mexico City—is this very open, hospitality-driven way of working. It’s something that also comes from my Persian culture, and it aligns closely with Latin American culture: the idea of truly taking care of people.
I think that what I really take away from Latin America—and especially from my 20 years of connection with Mexico City—is this very open, hospitality-driven way of working.
And if some visitors are initially drawn by the food, the atmosphere, or simply the experience itself, that’s still a success in my view. They’re contributing to the energy of the fair and supporting the incredible restaurants and culinary partners we’ve invited to create pop-ups inside the space. Over time, these encounters build familiarity and connection, fostering a broader and more engaged audience for the galleries and artists we represent.
I think that’s absolutely achievable if you start working early and consider how everything connects: from the talks to the panels, the panels to the exhibitions. For me, the narrative has to be circular—everything should feel connected and in dialogue with each other.
With your background in diplomacy, how has that experience helped you navigate the often unpredictable and complex landscape of the contemporary art scene?
I was very clear from the age of seven that I wanted to be in public service. Most of my family were either in politics or teachers, so everything they did was somehow driven by public service. Coming to America, volunteering and public service were part of my upbringing—it was just something you did. When I transitioned to the arts, it came from a frustration with politics: I realized I would have to wait decades before I could make a senior-level impact.
I’ve always been driven by the belief that art can shape societal change. Transitioning into the nonprofit and museum world offered me a direct way to contribute—through the artists I exhibited, the programs I developed, and the teams I built.
I’ve always been driven by the belief that art can shape societal change.
I should also mention that, for a long time, I thought I would become an architect. My plan was to study both architecture and law to balance my artistic inclinations with a logical foundation. At the time, my high school counselor suggested my math grades might make admission to a competitive architecture program challenging, so we didn’t pursue it. Ironically, now that I know some of the world’s most celebrated architects, I understand that creativity often matters more than perfect math scores.
I consider myself a very spiritual person, and I believe my path has guided me toward combining both of my passions—art and public service. From this journey, I’ve carried a deep commitment to making a meaningful impact through my work.
So, in a way, architecture has remained in the dream space for you.
If you look at many of the exhibitions I’ve been involved with, I hope they succeed in creating meaningful experiences for visitors. I’ve always been attentive to the use of space and the way people move through it. I like to think that my focus on spatial design complements the curatorial vision.
For example, when I curated the show at OGR Torino—1,200 square meters—that wasn’t daunting to me. I can really read the architecture and work with it, letting it help tell the story without spending thousands of dollars on walls or unnecessary structures. I worked with a wonderful architect, Francesco Fassone, on that project.
I love that process, and I find architects to be extraordinary people—creatures, really—that I’d love to collaborate with all the time. At one point, I even nearly accepted a position as director of a world-renowned architect’s studio. I almost went down that path.
Today we are confronted with increasingly difficult global circumstances—wars near our borders and growing uncertainty. How do you see the capacity of art to respond to such realities? Do you believe art has the power to influence or change these situations? Should art engage with political and societal issues—and if so, what is the most meaningful way for it to do so?
Thank you for this question. I believe first and foremost it’s about ensuring that diverse and meaningful voices are included. I remember one of my earliest encounters with Francis Alÿs, one of the most significant artists of his generation—not only for the depth and conceptual rigor of his work, but also for his generosity and thoughtfulness. (This meeting was around 2004 or 2005, before his massive “Mega,” international prominence, though he was recognized in key contemporary art circles.)
We spoke about Iran, and he demonstrated a remarkable understanding of Persian culture and history with positivity and curiosity. At the time, I was engaging with his early films, rooted in the Mexican context. Alÿs, a Belgian artist living in Mexico, shared an approach that resonated deeply: a careful, observational engagement with social and political realities, articulated through poetic gestures rather than overt commentary.
What struck me most was that, while I had participated in high-stakes diplomatic negotiations, Alÿs could convey comparable layers of cultural and social nuance in a twelve-minute film. The economy of expression, subtlety, and the capacity for art to communicate these intricacies so powerfully was revelatory. It underscored the extraordinary potential of art as cultural mediation and a lens through which to understand society.
Before deeply engaging with contemporary art, my perspective was more classical. I volunteered at the National Museum of Asian Art, the Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, particularly the Near Eastern collection galleries. When I began to encounter works telling stories and narratives beautifully and subtly—without waving a flag of ethnicity or politics—I realized how powerful that could be.
For me, inclusivity is essential. I don’t make blanket exclusions based on nationality or origin. I focus on the individual—their integrity, perspective, and professional background. My selections, whether for tours, programs, or other engagement, have always been guided by trust and respect for the people involved.
For me, inclusivity is essential. I don’t make blanket exclusions based on nationality or origin. I focus on the individual—their integrity, perspective, and professional background.
I think artists—and art itself—can at the very least present these stories subtly, opening conversations from a less politically charged starting point. That’s why I’m less drawn to overtly political work, though I understand and respect it. The works that speak most deeply to me address these issues in nuanced ways.
There is a space and time for everything, but in the context of a fair—especially one with 97 galleries—I must carefully balance relevance with responsibility. I cannot take a politically charged stance that could affect all participants.
When I invited Marcella Beccaria to curate the Erste STATEMENT exhibition, it was a deliberate decision. I valued her nuanced understanding of political realities, paired with poetic sensibility. Her approach communicates meaning thoughtfully, without overt didacticism, allowing work to resonate on multiple levels.
How do you see collectors today? How do you see collectors today and what are they looking for in art?
The art world is increasingly global, and perspectives are expanding in exciting ways. Artists, curators, and collectors travel widely, encounter diverse cultural contexts, and engage with ideas that cross borders. This broadening allows for richer dialogues, more inclusive representation, and a deeper understanding of interconnected artistic practices. Institutions and collectors now embrace a wider lens, looking beyond traditional reference points.
During my time at the Jumex Collection, I observed that gaze was largely northward, toward the U.S., overlooking many artistic voices elsewhere in Latin America. It became a priority to expand this gaze, broadening the language of collecting and supporting underrepresented artists and ideas.
For example, when I invited Jessica Morgan (then curator at Tate, now director of the Dia Art Foundation) to curate the first exhibition under my directorship at Jumex, I asked her to include artists from across Latin America. This led to the inclusion of Marepe, Regina Silveira, Cildo Meireles, and Eduardo Costa, expanding the region’s representation beyond the collection’s initial holdings.
My perspective on collectors was shaped by my early experience directing a private collection and observing the boards on which its founder served. I engaged with institutions like the New Museum and MOCA in Los Angeles, learning the importance of thoughtful programs and curatorial strategies in sustaining an institution’s vision. I also observed collectors like Agnes Gund, Ronald Lauder, Patrizia Sandretto Re Rebaudengo, and Maja Hoffman—their practices exemplify commitment to artists, meaningful collections, and fostering institutions.
The same principles apply to Austria. Greater exchange and dialogue strengthen the Austrian art scene, benefiting artists and collectors alike. I am committed to building on this momentum, focusing on Central and Eastern Europe while expanding beyond current geographies. Partnerships such as with Erste Bank are invaluable, and I plan to engage closely with them—accompanying them to openings in Warsaw or Prague, connecting with their networks, and fostering long-term relationships to support the region’s art ecosystem.
Already, we see results. The biggest section of the fair to grow this year was the Emerging section, thanks to the presence of Central and Eastern European galleries—they even outnumbered the Austrian participants.
The biggest section of the fair to grow this year was the Emerging section, thanks to the presence of Central and Eastern European galleries—they even outnumbered the Austrian participants.
As former Executive Director of Fundación Jumex and other institutions, how do you see public art institutions evolving?
I’ve learned that the American museum ecosystem operates differently from the European one. After Jumex, I was offered several U.S. positions but chose to move to Europe, a considered challenge. There, the significance of an institution—whether a Kunsthalle in Bregenz or a museum in Berlin, Bonn, or Frankfurt—is shaped not only by location but by the vision, rigor, and commitment of its directors, curators, and the city’s cultural ecosystem. Leadership and curatorial strategy can elevate a program’s prominence anywhere.
In the U.S., cultural attention has historically concentrated in a few cities—New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, Dallas—while other cities were often overlooked. Roles in Denver or Santa Barbara offered the chance to lead dynamic programs with ambitious curatorial vision, balancing challenges and freedoms of smaller-scale institutions. Some initiatives I pursued then were ahead of their time, and even today remain forward-looking.
Santa Barbara presented unique opportunities: proximity to Los Angeles, a resourceful community, and the chance to create an Aspen-style model. Such strategies require vision and careful adaptation to local circumstances. Leading a U.S. Museum today demands resilience, pragmatism, and balance between artistic ambition and institutional realities.
What do you personally look for in art, and why is it important to you?
Art expands empathy and perception. It allows access to experiences beyond our own and connection across geography, history, and identity. At its best, art reframes the world, challenges it, and sometimes even heals it.
I feel it’s important to engage in difficult discussions that often can’t happen when everything becomes politicized. Even when completely disagreeing with another perspective, there are usually other issues where dialogue is possible. Society, politics, and the art world have lost the ability to acknowledge multiple perspectives. Instead, there is often an authoritarian mindset of “this is right, this is wrong.” My responsibility is to participate in these conversations.
Society, politics, and the art world have lost the ability to acknowledge multiple perspectives. Instead, there is often an authoritarian mindset of “this is right, this is wrong.”
In recent years, in light of global political tensions—from the situation in Ukraine and Russia, to Gaza and Israel, and the ongoing challenges in Iran and Afghanistan—I’ve been reflecting deeply on the importance of perspective. Having lived in Germany and witnessed the experiences of Turkish immigrants there, after having lived in Turkey, or the privilege of living in Mexico after growing up in California—a state with one of the largest Mexican American immigrant populations—I’ve observed how profoundly context shapes understanding.
For instance, the experience of a Mexican living in Mexico differs greatly from that of a third-generation Mexican immigrant in California; their daily realities, cultural references, and sense of belonging often diverge. These observations have reinforced my belief in the responsibility we carry, as individuals and as cultural leaders, to cultivate spaces that are respectful, inclusive, and thoughtful. It is this ethos that I strive to bring to every project I lead, whether in museums, curatorial initiatives, or collaborative exhibitions.
Ultimately, if we engage with one another, take the time to understand each other’s lives, and embrace the subtle differences in perspective, we create contexts that are richer, more nuanced, and more vibrant. It is through this openness to diversity—of thought, culture, and experience—that we can generate meaningful connections and cultivate a deeper, shared understanding of the world around us.
My personal space is likely more political than my role as director; I don’t impose politics on an institution, leaving room to explore these issues individually.
Why do humans feel the need to be surrounded by art?
I think art serves first and foremost as documentation—a representation of a particular moment in time. It reflects society, and while we’ve now expanded the language of art to include so many diverse stories, there remains a fundamental human need to document and mirror what is happening around us.
I think art serves first and foremost as documentation—a representation of a particular moment in time.
While contemporary art now embraces an incredibly diverse array of voices and stories, this fundamental human impulse to record, reflect, and connect remains constant. Film, for example, has a remarkable power to shape perception. The movie Frida, for instance, introduced many audiences worldwide to the life and work of Frida Kahlo. It sparked curiosity and admiration, yet it also condensed complex historical and personal realities into a particular narrative. Experiences like this remind us how art in all its forms—film, painting, or sculpture—can influence understanding and misperceptions alike.
Direct engagement with art, however, provides depth that no representation can fully capture. Diego Rivera’s murals in Mexico, for example, are extraordinary in scale, narrative, and social resonance. Understanding them requires time, attention, and presence; they cannot be fully absorbed in a single visit. The more we engage directly with art and its contexts, the richer our understanding becomes.
Ultimately, my hope is that we approach art with curiosity and humility. Films, books, and exhibitions can guide perception, but there is no substitute for encountering art in its lived context, experiencing its layers of meaning, and allowing ourselves to be challenged, moved, and inspired by it.
Is there something that always surprises or intrigues you about Vienna?
My connection to Vienna has always been deeply personal. The city continues to inspire me—the harmony between its architecture, art, music, and history creates an energy that feels both rooted and forward-looking. I’m constantly reminded of the richness of its cultural legacy and the untapped potential that still lies ahead. It’s not just admiration; it’s a genuine affection for a place that continually sparks my curiosity and imagination.
I collaborated with Jumex on a project at Hangar-7 in Salzburg, where I met a colleague who became a significant connection to Austria. I had an amazing experience working with her, and in 2016 I curated a dedicated section for viennacontemporary titled “Solo Expanded.” The following year, in 2017, I participated in Vienna’s renowned “curated by” program, and my exhibition was presented at Charim Gallery, featuring the work of Dominik Steiger and Shirin Sabahi. Through these experiences, I developed lasting professional and personal relationships, which were invaluable when I received the offer to come to viennacontemporary; I sought Miryam’s (founder of Charim gallery) advice, and her encouragement played an important role in my decision.
When communities come together, remarkable things can happen. I witnessed this in Mexico, where over time the art community coalesced around shared projects and collaboration, transforming a fair into something extraordinary—not because of financial factors, but because of collective energy and vision.
When communities come together, remarkable things can happen.
Vienna doesn’t need to prove its greatness; it simply needs to embrace it. What excites me most is that this city already has so much to offer. Walking its streets, experiencing its food, and feeling its rhythm fills me with inspiration. It’s an emotional connection, perhaps irrational, but one that guides and motivates the work I do here.
Thank you!
Title image: Abaseh Mirvali. Photo; Ana Hop
