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NEWS
HOVER, LUDVIG SAHAKYAN
 
For his first personal exhibition at the Bullukian Foundation, Ludvig Sahakyan offers a rich body of new artworks, from drawing to embroidery, from sculpture to performance.

“At the heart of my research is the meeting point between the material and the reminder of the Armenian world, which manifests today from a distant memory and allows me to give physical form to it.”
 
Curator : Fanny Robin

Exhibition open from January 18th to March 25th, 2017.
Free admission between 2 p.m. and 6:30 p.m. from Tuesday to Friday and between 1 p.m. and 7 p.m. on Saturday.
Free guided tour every Saturday at 4 p.m.



ՀՈՎԵՐ Hover

Հով, hov is the breeze. But to call hov the breeze, is to give one word for another, from one tongue to another, and to reduce its meaning. Hov, is more than the breeze. The discreat breathe of the air is not yet the wind, քամի qami, that blows through the windows and roofs, sometimes quite peacfully, sometime in violance, ripping of roofs and the roots of the trees.
Hov is the discreat breathe of the air, that whispears though leaves of the trees, follows the waters and rivers, as friend, and  caresses the green of the mountains, in the spring of Armenia. 
Hover, are more than the breezes, more than the quite winds. On the tongue of who knows this word, it becomes an adress, a call for a shelter, a shelter itself. Calling to mountains, to send their hov, the one who adresses, hopes to fin shelter, հովին hovin. To sit hovin, we could say, is to sit in the shades. But it is not the shade, the shadow, ստվեր stver, that we talk about. Hovin is a place, a place as a haven. A place as a shelter, from the blinding sun of the desert, that an entire people walked, barefoot, on the burning sand, for an endless time, calling to the mountains to send a hov, hoping to find a refuge, hovin.
 Hovin, is a place, where there is still the living breathe, the remerbering of the time. A place, where one can sit in the « shades » of the trees, and by the returning spring, think about what the world is, the worlds, the others, an encounter.

Ludvig Sahakyan
 
 
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