Written by Angelika Santaniello
Illustrated by Jessica Chan
How does art exist in the crevices of day-to-day life? For LSE students, art is intertwined with our daily campus routine. From Wallinger’s ‘The World Turned Upside Down’ and Blokhin and Kuznetsov’s tympanum ‘Finale Sale’ framing the entrance to the Old Building to Vandegaast’s ‘Penguin’ outside the library, the campus is imbued with the visual and sensory language of art. This raises a central question: How should looking at art be approached?
In pursuit of an answer to this question, I spoke to Norwegian, marble-specialist sculptor Håkon Anton Fagerås. Based in Oslo, Norway, and Pietrasanta, Italy, Fagerås subverts viewers’ expectations of marble – the pinnacle symbol of classical antiquity – by blending elements of a contemporary school of art and the classical tradition. Through his representation of the human figure and portrayal of inanimate objects, Fagerås proffers a more nuanced approach to art.
At first glance, a viewer is either fully immersed or entirely extraneous to an artwork. Conversely, Fagerås suggested the boundary between art and the viewer is more permeable: “I aim to evoke a sensory atmosphere, where the first response is a sensation rather than words – a personal, emotional connection that draws the viewer into an intimate space.” “The viewer completes the artwork,” he remarked, illustrating that approaching sculpture requires a dynamic relationship between the viewer and the artwork.
When it comes to marble sculptures, our perception can be tainted by idealism as we are faced with an idea of ‘perfection’ rooted in classical antiquity. Fagerås offers an alternative perspective on marble as a medium, focusing on its “fragility and vulnerability” and “on the everyday”. “The long, slow process of working in stone also affects the outcome […] slow materials often lead to more subdued expressions,” he noted. Fagerås told me, “I’m more interested in depicting an average body than one that meets either classical or contemporary ideals. Ideally proportioned figures lose individual presence.” He also proposed a more introspective use of marble: “The only limits come from the artist’s eyes and hands, not the material itself.” This suggests direct contact with materials allows artists to gradually unpack the nuances of a medium, perhaps something seemingly inconceivable to a viewer.
The significance of an artist dictating a viewer’s perception is often downplayed. In the public domain, the sculpture becomes a powerful visual tool—you are faced with an immortalised individual. Fagerås concluded that “a figurative sculpture becomes much more compelling when it embodies a real individual rather than being purely an artist’s invention.” This points to a view of sculptures as social artefacts; it is not enough to simply sculpt someone’s appearance.
Fagerås is renowned for his public commissions. His 2022 bronze sculpture ‘Cecilie – Woman with Incurable Breast Cancer’ powerfully depicts Cecilie, a single mother of three diagnosed with metastatic breast cancer. The sculpture, being the first to depict a woman with incurable breast cancer, is displayed in central Oslo. Fagerås places Cecilie’s identity at the forefront of the piece, using bronze – a more durable and robust material than marble — rendering the sculpture as an emblem of strength. In memorialising an ordinary individual like a public figure of authority, he creates a potent statement against society’s tabooed discussion of breast cancer.
Commenting on his life-size sculpture, Fagerås stressed the necessity to depart from anatomical precision to truly capture a person’s essence. He said, “Empathy, rather than anatomy, is central […] muscles are less compelling to me than the act of attempting to truly see another person.” This emphasises the importance of Cecilie’s individuality and the lasting impression she left him. “The effect – and the feeling of presence – is stronger when you realise this was an actual person […] My focus was on observing not only her appearance but how she moved and appeared in front of me.”
Fagerås also alluded to something unique about a viewer’s perception of everyday art. Regarding his coin face designs commissioned by Norges Bank, Fagerås acknowledged the difficulty of immortalising a public figure on a small scale. “It’s a process of distilling the subject down to its essence, stripping away everything unnecessary while ensuring it still speaks to the viewer,” he said. The welding of art and the mundane aspects of life is not something people are unfamiliar with, yet he hinted at an everyday overlooking of artistic nuances.
Discussing his renowned marble and clay sculptures of pillows, I was struck by his focus on a seemingly mundane yet intimate object. Following his sculpture of an old man childishly dragging his pillow, Fagerås views pillows as “a playful take on a memento mori”. His fascination extends to pillows’ inherent sculptural qualities, highlighting that “the folds can take countless forms [and] understanding the subtle transitions that create the essence of ‘pillowness’ brings softness and life to the piece.” Moreover, he noted their ability to allow him to revisit “fragility, harmony in contrasts, the fleeting moment, and the everyday”.
This hints at a portrayal of an artist simultaneously playing the role of the viewer and the sculptor, interpreting the familiar in a playful, nuanced manner. Yet, Fagerås interestingly never perceived himself as simply a viewer. To him, the boundary of being a viewer or artist is not as rigid as it may seem: “It was more a natural continuation of my childhood practice of making.” In fact, Fagerås revealed a nostalgic quality to his journey as an artist: “In my early teens, it was supercars and superheroes filling my sketchbooks, but those childhood fascinations gradually evolved into attempts to create something with deeper resonance.”
In turn, when attempting to understand art, perhaps greater emphasis on the artist’s subjective understanding of art is needed. Discussing this, Fagerås foregrounded his experience engaging in a tactile process: “My understanding of sculpture has emerged foremost through the direct, physical experience of making.” “Each act of carving, smoothing, or adjusting reveals something new — how certain forms catch the light, how subtle textures can resonate emotionally, and how the interplay between material and gesture can lend presence and meaning to a piece. It’s an evolving dialogue, where the sculpting process itself becomes the teacher.”
So, I wondered, with such an introspective approach to art, how should one interpret the idea of an artistic legacy? According to Fagerås, “you don’t need to ‘get’ [his] work. It’s not a puzzle to crack — just something to share a moment with. If someone lingers a second longer, feels a small shift inside, or notices how a shape softly catches the light, that’s plenty. It’s less about meaning, and more about just quietly being there.”
What I learned from my conversation with Fagerås is that the way art is thought about needs to be reconsidered. There is an interplay between an intimate, emotional appreciation of art and an awareness of its nature as an artefact. Having spoken to a sculptor who wholly attends to the intricacies of all forms of art, it is clear that art’s public and private boundaries are blurred. So, how should someone look at art? Maybe something more is needed – something more than just looking.
