<h1 class="left">We touched down in Venice to find Marco Brambilla rewiring cinema into something feverish, funny, and oddly tender. The occasion? The opening of the 2025 Biennale of Architecture, where Golden Goose unveiled its latest cultural pivot: handing over its HAUS space to Brambilla for a full-scale cinematic takeover.</h1>
<h1 class="centre">Inside Golden Goose HAUS—the brand’s Marghera-based phygital platform that feels part archive, part industrial cathedral—Brambilla’s show flickers across screens, tunnels, and walls like a subconscious unspooling itself. “This isn’t a retrospective or a survey,” Brambilla said. “It’s a show about one idea—the idea that we connect through our subconscious. For me, that connection has always come through cinema.”</h1>
<h1 class="centre">Brambilla, a London-based artist originally from Milan, is known for pioneering immersive video installations that remix found footage, pop spectacle, and digital collage. His past works—such as Nude Descending a Staircase No.3 at the Oculus in New York, King Size at The Sphere in Las Vegas, and Approximations of Utopia in Times Square—are high-production fever dreams that reimagine visual culture through loops, layers, and overload. With Altered States, he taps into a personal archive of cinematic memory, transforming it into a hallucinatory walk-through of the subconscious..</h1>
<h1 class="right">He describes the show as “a stream of consciousness built from fragments of memory and desire. These pieces aren’t linear—they’re shaped by impressions films left on me growing up, watching three movies a day, and later directing in Hollywood.” He continues, “It’s therapeutic in a way. You rediscover moments from childhood, but they’ve changed, blurred. That’s the point—they loop, they shift, they reflect how we process memory.”</h1>
<h1 class="left">Brambilla also spoke about the physicality of the exhibition: “This piece was made before AI. It’s all hand-built collage—paper, scissors, caffeine. I like the friction of it. You start forming connections that don’t exist in the original films. They’re like characters trapped in amber—removed from time, endlessly repeating.”</h1>
<h1 class="centre">Curated by Jérôme Sans, the exhibition unspools across HAUS like a lucid fever dream. “Dreams happen chaotically inside us,” Sans said. “But when they're shared, they become incredibly powerful. Marco’s work lets us gather around shared emotion—not just image. It’s less about telling a story and more about unearthing one that’s already been living inside you.”</h1>
<h1 class="centre">Golden Goose’s HAUS space feels more like a cultural experiment than an average gallery space. Launched in 2024 during the Biennale, HAUS is rooted in Marghera, the birthplace of the brand. It blends Italian craft with global culture: an academy that teaches shoemaking and screen printing, right next to workshops on DJing and public speaking; a repair lab meets an art hangar. “We’re not here to tell people what to think,” says CEO Silvio Campara. “We’re here to listen. Culture isn’t a slogan—it’s something that happens in real time, between people.”</h1>
<h1 class="right">“Too often, brands confuse globalisation with standardisation,” Campara says. “But the real opportunity lies in glocalisation—figuring out how to share our story in a way that resonates locally, whether in India, South America, or China,” he says. “We're making the entire world know that we’re making this happen in Marghera, and we could perhaps go to India, to try and understand how I can tell my story better, to be understood by Indians. And when collaboration is done right, it doesn’t blur identity—it sharpens it.”</h1>
<h1 class="centre">From Heaven’s Gate to Anthology, Brambilla’s films aren’t about narrative—they’re about disorientation. “Characters are pulled from their scenes and looped endlessly, like artefacts in amber,” he said. “The context is stripped, the emotion is raw. Sometimes it’s hopeful. Sometimes it’s claustrophobic. It all depends on what you bring to it.”</h1>
<h1 class="left">While nostalgia may sometimes feel like a record on loop, this felt different. Less retro, more reincarnated. Venice has always seduced with its decay—here, it pixelates. And for a brand rooted in Italian craft, it’s wildly progressive to let the screen speak louder than the stitch. But that’s HAUS. It believes you can digitise longing, loop a feeling, wear a glitch.</h1>
<h1 class="left">We leave Brambilla’s maze altered in all the right ways. Which is just as well. Golden Goose is already dreaming up ways to bring this world of cinematic hauntings and cross-cultural memory to India next.</h1>
<h1 class="full">We touched down in Venice to find Marco Brambilla rewiring cinema into something feverish, funny, and oddly tender. The occasion? The opening of the 2025 Biennale of Architecture, where Golden Goose unveiled its latest cultural pivot: handing over its HAUS space to Brambilla for a full-scale cinematic takeover.</h1>
<h1 class="full">Inside Golden Goose HAUS—the brand’s Marghera-based phygital platform that feels part archive, part industrial cathedral—Brambilla’s show flickers across screens, tunnels, and walls like a subconscious unspooling itself. “This isn’t a retrospective or a survey,” Brambilla said. “It’s a show about one idea—the idea that we connect through our subconscious. For me, that connection has always come through cinema.”</h1>
<h1 class="full">Brambilla, a London-based artist originally from Milan, is known for pioneering immersive video installations that remix found footage, pop spectacle, and digital collage. His past works—such as Nude Descending a Staircase No.3 at the Oculus in New York, King Size at The Sphere in Las Vegas, and Approximations of Utopia in Times Square—are high-production fever dreams that reimagine visual culture through loops, layers, and overload. With Altered States, he taps into a personal archive of cinematic memory, transforming it into a hallucinatory walk-through of the subconscious..</h1>
<h1 class="full">He describes the show as “a stream of consciousness built from fragments of memory and desire. These pieces aren’t linear—they’re shaped by impressions films left on me growing up, watching three movies a day, and later directing in Hollywood.” He continues, “It’s therapeutic in a way. You rediscover moments from childhood, but they’ve changed, blurred. That’s the point—they loop, they shift, they reflect how we process memory.”</h1>
<h1 class="full">Brambilla also spoke about the physicality of the exhibition: “This piece was made before AI. It’s all hand-built collage—paper, scissors, caffeine. I like the friction of it. You start forming connections that don’t exist in the original films. They’re like characters trapped in amber—removed from time, endlessly repeating.”</h1>
<h1 class="full">Curated by Jérôme Sans, the exhibition unspools across HAUS like a lucid fever dream. “Dreams happen chaotically inside us,” Sans said. “But when they're shared, they become incredibly powerful. Marco’s work lets us gather around shared emotion—not just image. It’s less about telling a story and more about unearthing one that’s already been living inside you.”</h1>
<h1 class="full">Golden Goose’s HAUS space feels more like a cultural experiment than an average gallery space. Launched in 2024 during the Biennale, HAUS is rooted in Marghera, the birthplace of the brand. It blends Italian craft with global culture: an academy that teaches shoemaking and screen printing, right next to workshops on DJing and public speaking; a repair lab meets an art hangar. “We’re not here to tell people what to think,” says CEO Silvio Campara. “We’re here to listen. Culture isn’t a slogan—it’s something that happens in real time, between people.”</h1>
<h1 class="full">“Too often, brands confuse globalisation with standardisation,” Campara says. “But the real opportunity lies in glocalisation—figuring out how to share our story in a way that resonates locally, whether in India, South America, or China,” he says. “We're making the entire world know that we’re making this happen in Marghera, and we could perhaps go to India, to try and understand how I can tell my story better, to be understood by Indians. And when collaboration is done right, it doesn’t blur identity—it sharpens it.”</h1>
<h1 class="full">From Heaven’s Gate to Anthology, Brambilla’s films aren’t about narrative—they’re about disorientation. “Characters are pulled from their scenes and looped endlessly, like artefacts in amber,” he said. “The context is stripped, the emotion is raw. Sometimes it’s hopeful. Sometimes it’s claustrophobic. It all depends on what you bring to it.”</h1>
<h1 class="full">While nostalgia may sometimes feel like a record on loop, this felt different. Less retro, more reincarnated. Venice has always seduced with its decay—here, it pixelates. And for a brand rooted in Italian craft, it’s wildly progressive to let the screen speak louder than the stitch. But that’s HAUS. It believes you can digitise longing, loop a feeling, wear a glitch.</h1>
<h1 class="full">We leave Brambilla’s maze altered in all the right ways. Which is just as well. Golden Goose is already dreaming up ways to bring this world of cinematic hauntings and cross-cultural memory to India next.</h1>