Trumpets 1992

Curator: Right now, we're standing in front of Vigen Vartanov's "Trumpets," a mixed media piece from 1992 that incorporates metal and photography into its sculptural form. What’s grabbing you right away? Editor: The textures are incredible – it's like a deconstructed musical instrument holding on to some remnants of melody, fading, oxidizing… there's a palpable sense of decay, transformation. The metal almost weeps with age, it’s beautifully melancholic. Curator: Absolutely. Think of the trumpet's historical and symbolic weight – fanfare, announcements, even spiritual awakenings. By 1992, what cultural narratives were playing out? What was being amplified or silenced? The oxidation and fragmented form could be speaking to broken promises, disillusionment with power… Editor: I feel that. There's something deeply personal in this ruin, like a forgotten lullaby played on an instrument rescued from the scrapheap. It feels post-industrial, reflecting maybe a society grappling with its sonic residue? Curator: Consider the mesh that backs the piece. It reminds me of the netting used to obscure military equipment, a form of camouflage, another level of concealed meanings that contrasts the boldness we normally associate with a trumpet. Editor: Exactly. We think of trumpets blasting bold sounds, not whispers behind fabric! Maybe it's suggesting lost voices. Or, it makes me think of musical instruments used as signals of war… What a contrast! It makes the mind shudder. Curator: Vartanov is Armenian, and Armenian culture has long navigated themes of resilience and cultural memory. Perhaps this is a call for the sounds that have carried tradition. Editor: A potent reflection on art and existence, really. It’s amazing how something so tarnished and broken can still hum with raw emotion and unheard melodies. This isn’t just sculpture; it’s an elegiac poem made real. Curator: Yes, and it's an invitation to remember, even if all that's left are fragments. Editor: Exactly. The muted palette itself echoes forgotten histories and things decaying behind closed doors. It’s amazing what art can recall from our minds...