Arthur Hakobyan

Arthur Hakobyan is a sculptor and ceramicist whose bronze works rise from the deep wells of prehistory — with a grin. His practice is a playful excavation of ancient symbols, reborn with contemporary irreverence. Think Venus, not on a shell but balanced absurdly on an egg. Infants bubbling up from primordial soup. Archetypes emerge from chaos, disintegrate, reform. The cycle repeats, with a wink.

Hakobyan doesn’t just reference history — he toys with it. His sculptures feel both ancient and oddly fresh, like artifacts from a civilization that never was but always could have been. There’s a strange familiarity to his forms: they echo cave etchings, fertility idols, fossilized dreams. And yet, they carry a surreal humor that jolts them into the present.

At the heart of his work lies a fascination with cycles — birth, decay, order, collapse. He sees these forces not as opposites, but as eternal dance partners, locked in a slow, cosmic waltz. Bronze, with its molten beginnings and durable legacy, becomes the perfect medium: alive in its making, unyielding in its afterlife.

Hakobyan’s universe is one where mythology never fossilized — it kept mutating. And somewhere between absurdity and awe, he sculpts stories that feel both timeless and curiously now.