Renowned Armenian painter Hakob Hakobyan passed away 13:13, 9 March, 2

[MosJan]

The painter Hakob Hakobyan (1923 – 2013), a People’s Artist of Soviet Armenia, passed away in Yerevan yesterday.

Hakobyan, who was born in Egypt and repatriated to Armenia in 1962, would have turned ninety this April 24.

[MosJan]

RIP..

[MosJan]

Renowned Armenian painter Hakob Hakobyan passed away

http://armenpress.am/static/news/b/2013/03/710885.jpg 13:13, 9 March, 2013

 

YEREVAN, MARCH 9, ARMENPRESS: One of the greatest painters of our time Hakob Hakobyan, 90, passed away. When living abroad Hakobyan mainly authored thematic paintings, where with peculiar efforts and tenderness he generalized the emotional state of post Genocide generation living far from the Homeland.

As Armenpress reports,earlier Armenian painter stated ''I am not gifted with great diapason, as for instance Saryan, Minas, Kalents. My diapason is limited with white, grew and okra. I shall fail to create with red and blue colors, they will look artificial. People like and adopt my works in with black, white, okra. This is my painting''.

''A woman Frying Fish''(1959), ''Spring''(1969), '' The village of Malishka ''(1970), '' Sumgait''(1989), ''Republic Square''(2001) are considered one of the best in his paintings.

Armenian Prime Minister Tigran Sargsyan expressed his condolences over the death of Hakob Hakobyan. ''I learnt with the deepest sorrow about the death of honorary Armenian painter, People's Artist of the Republic of Armenia Hakob Hakobyan'' PM posted in his facebook page.

Hakob Hakobyan was born in 1923, Egypt. He studied at the Melkonian Armenian school (Cyprus) and Acade'mie de la Grande Chaumiere. His early works are small-size oils: one-figure compositions in interiors and still lives.

[MosJan]

Renowned Armenian modern painter Hakob Hakobyan passed away on Friday evening. He was 90.

 

A People’s Artist and a holder of the State Prize of Armenia, Hakobyan was born to a family of Armenian immigrants in Alexandria, Egypt. At age nine, he was admitted to the Melkonian Armenian School of Cyprus, where he studied for ten years with intervals. He later continued his education at the Cairo High School of Fine Arts and the The Académie de la Grande Chaumière (academy of the large thatched cottage) of Paris.

 

He moved to his ancestor’s homeland in 1961 and settled in Leninakan (Gyumri) a year later.

 

In 1967, Hakobyan was elected a member of the Supreme Council of the Soviet Armenia. In 1977, he was honored with State Award of Armenia and the People’s Artist title.

 

The canvas Spring (1971) brought the artist a gold medal at the first Trans-Caucasus Biennale in 1986.

 

In 1987, Hakobyan was awarded with the USSR State Prize for a series of watercolor paintings that stood out with a high degree of artistism.

 

His most prominent pieces include Park Near St. Hripsime Temple, Echmiadzin (1976), Vineyard in Winter (1979), In Artist’s Studio (1980), Forlorn Corner (1980) and Garni Gorge (1980).

[Yervant1]

THE DEMISE OF A CULTURAL ICON

 

http://www.mirrorspectator.com/2013/03/14/the-demise-of-a-cultural-icon/

EDITORIAL | MARCH 14, 2013 12:26 PM

 

When an artist attains a ripe age and continues to create and to

surprise his fans, people forget their mortality for a moment and

begin to believe that the artist in question is there forever, he

or she is the journeyman of the eternal, of course, until he or she

faces the inevitable.

 

I had that feeling when I heard Picasso passed away. I thought eternity

had collapsed and destroyed the traveler of that unending journey.

 

I experienced the very same feeling upon hearing about the loss of

painter Hakob Hakobian (Hagopian), who at the threshold of 90, was

still surprising his fans with new and refreshing phases of his art. I

was also overcome with intense emotions as he was very much a part

of my life. While still in Egypt, he had shared many collective art

shows with my wife, Nora, and we had come to treasure his friendship,

his art, his wisdom and his inexorable quest regarding the destiny

of the Armenian people and Armenia.

 

I will never forget one evening in 1962, his grueling questions on

life in Armenia, as I had just returned from Yerevan, after my first

trip there, with mixed feelings. We were walking for miles along

Cairo streets and I was trying to convey my reservations about the

limitations of artistic freedom behind the Iron Curtain, trying to

tread on a fine line, mindful of my principles of supporting Armenia

under any condition.

 

Hakobian was already an upcoming artist with a solid reputation and

his wife, Marie, was the foremost dress designer in Egypt. They both

had opportunities to settle in Europe or North America.

 

As we parted late that night, I was convinced that he had understood

my subtle message that Armenia was not yet for him.

 

Little did I know that soon he was moving his family to Armenia.

 

"After all, it is our homeland," he said, "no individual, no matter

how talented, can be greater than his nation. We are destined to

share the fate of our homeland."

 

Hakobian, an unassuming person and the personification of humility,

never expected rewards and glory as he settled in Armenia, first

in the city of Gumri (Leninakan), where he was inspired to create

immortal landscapes. Later, he moved to the capital Yerevan.

 

Hakobian's art radiates a universal sadness. He was a meditative artist

and he was first misunderstood in Armenia. One of his early paintings

featured a poor neighborhood in Gumri, where chickens were roaming

free and colorful laundry was hanging to dry. The critics in Armenia

jumped on him as a result, to force on the artist the straightjacket

of "socialist realism," interpreting that the artist was sad and

despondent under capitalist rule, and now that he had arrived at the

"socialist paradise," he opted for brighter colors and an optimistic

outlook on life.

 

Hakobian remained true to himself and continued his trademark

philosophical concept of art and, indeed, he achieved fame and

recognition. In 1986, he was awarded the coveted prize of the Artist

of the Soviet Union and in 1988, he was invited to join the USSR

Academy of Fine Arts. Later on, he was twice awarded the prize of

Artist of the Republic of Armenia. Although he was fond of subdued

colors, Hakobian became the rainbow bridging the diaspora to Armenia.

 

He was among the constellation of Egyptian-Armenian artists who

repatriated to Armenia, at great personal risk, to contribute to the

development of artistic life in Armenia. The other members of that

group were world-renowned coloratura Gohar Gasprarian, opera singers

Mihran Yergat, Armineh Tutunjian and Anna Nishanian, artist Arakel

Badrik, intellectuals Hagop Aramian, Hagop Triantz, Garnik Stepanian

and others.

 

Hakobian had a characteristic style with a penchant for economy

of colors. His monochromatic landscapes hide so many hues that the

painting begins to "speak." Dead tree trunks emerge from nowhere like

skeletons to tell the stories of the centuries.

 

Hakobian has always reminded me of the French expressionist painter

Bernard Buffet, without the latter's bitterness and sarcasm. Clearly

cynicism and sarcasm in Buffet ran deep, eventually causing him to

commit suicide in 1999. On the contrary, Hakobian's pessimism has

a submissive fatalism, accepting the realities of life as they are,

as desolate as they may be.

 

The material Hakobian's soul was made of was derived from the historic

land of Armenia, yet somewhere in the philosophical eternity, his

soul meets that of Georgia O'Keefe, because both are the masters of

extracting so much emotion, so much brooding out of isolated desert

landscapes.

 

Hakobian's art has relentlessly undergone development; he always has

been on the threshold of a new vision, a daring jump into unexplored

vistas.

 

His early depictions of ordinary people gradually gave way to his

experiment with tailors' dummies, which were humanized to express love,

sadness, dancing, remembering, etc. His paintings also depicted simple

instruments, ordinary objects with powerful messages. His fragile eggs

against the threatening teeth of pliers depict the frail feature of

human lives versus iron logic of destiny. His headless crowds feature

another message about horrors of the nuclear age.

 

Hakobian was a gentle person and an even gentler artist, yet he

could tear your heart apart with his symbolism on Armenian history;

his painting depicting a herd of sheep, heads against a wall in the

summer heat, while one slaughtered sheep hangs on a pole. The herd is

"sheepishly" resigned to its destiny.

 

The last stage of Hakobian's art was to move from the canvas to

metals to animate simple instruments. After painting instruments with

loud human messages, he actually resorted to working with the metals

themselves, which he collected form junkyards and turned into tiny

sculptures, each one with an artistic expression. He then would cast

those molds into large and impressive sculptures. The last time I

visited his studio, he had already 300 tiny sculptures. It is ironic

that he was planning his first large-scale sculpture exhibition for

March 19 in Yerevan.

 

He was not only an artist, but an articulate writer. He published many

essays which appeared in a voluminous book in 2006. They feature his

observations, sharp criticism and questions about Armenian history,

as well as artistic life in Armenia and in the diaspora. He would

lash out against ugly developments of Armenian life with a sharpness

no one would else would dare to express.

 

He was tormented about the destiny of the Armenian people. "What

happened to us, where are our traditional values?" he would ask almost

in tears. He would satirize, sometimes the political immaturity

of our leaders and everyone accepted his comments with reverence,

knowing they came from inner torment and introspection, rather than

personal motives.

 

The economic conditions in Armenia bothered him tremendously. "My

paintings are selling well and I have a comfortable life. But I

am embarrassed to go into the street and look into the eyes of the

ordinary people who are miserable in rampant poverty."

 

During my last visit, he showed a large painting depicting a forest

of Armenian skulls, his grandparents included. Right in the middle

of the painting is Ataturk's notorious racist motto: "Happy is the

person who claims to be a Turk," in Turkish.

 

"I would like to donate this painting to a museum," he said. "This

is my message to my people and this is my message to humankind. Let

everybody know that this is the only contribution of Turks to human

civilization."

 

Last November, as I took my leave from his studio, Hakobian,

accompanied by his wife, walked me to the door, saying, "Don't

forget to visit us the next time you are in Armenia." I replied,

"How could I forget since every visit to you is a pilgrimage for me,

when I get to enjoy intellectual discourse and artistic novelty?"

 

I did not know that this was to be my last pilgrimage to Hakobian.

 

The artist was a man of dignity and humility. He was extremely modest.

 

He never clamored for fame and celebrity status. Yet, his humility

propelled him to the peak of fame. The Armenian government has decided

to bury Hakobian's remains in the National Pantheon. He will be in good

company, with Aram Khachatourian, Martiros Saryan, Minas Avetisian,

William Saroyan Paruyr Sevak, Silva Kapoutikian and the other creative

minds of the Armenia nation. May his tormented soul rest in peace.