Tallinn biennale makes decaying Linnahall its central presence

The main exhibition of the 2026 Tallinn Architecture Biennale, “How Much Does It Cost?”, puts the deteriorating Linnahall concrete building at its centre. In a review published by ERR and originally appearing in Sirp, Poul Jakob Levertand describes the building as shaping the exhibition from the moment visitors approach. The exhibition is open until the end of November.

The curators are Siim Tanel Tõnisson, Kertu Johanna Jõeste and Ra Martin Puhkan of Studio Täna, along with Mark Aleksander Fischer of Estonia and Mira Samonig of Austria.

From the promenade, Levertand sees a stark divide between the rising city and property developments on one side and the crumbling concrete building on the other. Water leaks through the roof, and the hall is damp and mouldy. The question painted above the main entrance, “How much does it cost?”, feels to him like a plea from the building to be noticed.

One of the reviewer’s most memorable moments comes while walking down from the auditorium stands to the stage. The floor, covered in a damp, sea-green carpet, seems to squelch underfoot. Levertand calls the experience surreal and says it brings him closer to the building and its condition.

Levertand writes that architecture biennales often feel overblown, with ambitious proposals and familiar themes such as reuse, the climate crisis, the cost of living, technology and resources. He says the previous two Tallinn biennales blur together in his memory, as does his impression of the latest Venice Architecture Biennale, apart from a few individual pavilions, including Poland’s.

One work at the Tallinn exhibition is a fragment of the Hungarian pavilion at the 2025 Venice Architecture Biennale. In an animated video, a burnt-out architect, fused with an office chair, types at a computer in search of the cheapest and most efficient building. An ambitious functionalist house turns into what the review describes as a mansion in a land of fools. The architect scrolls through possible clients, from a developer to a teacher and a musician, before the cursor stops at “whatever”.

The video ends with the architect giving in to market compromises and the ideological crisis they bring. The work leaves Levertand asking whether the biennale can offer hope for change.