Some encounters leave an impression that goes beyond the conversation itself. My first meeting with internationally renowned artist and designer Arik Levy was one of them.
We met in Istanbul during Contemporary Istanbul, at a special dinner organized by DG Art Gallery & Project in his honor. Surrounded by art collectors and enthusiasts, I found myself immediately drawn to Levy’s warm and approachable presence. There was something genuinely welcoming about him, a natural ease that made our first encounter feel surprisingly familiar.
What made that meeting even more memorable was a thoughtful gift. Levy later presented me with a personally signed copy of "The House," a book offering an intimate glimpse into his artistic universe, including his works, his home and his studio. It was more than a beautiful art book; it felt like an invitation into the private world behind his creative vision. For me, it became a particularly meaningful keepsake.
Our encounter eventually led to a conversation about art, identity, human connection and the delicate balance between the forces that shape our lives.
Known for his monumental sculptures, particularly his iconic Rock series, Levy has spent decades exploring the relationships between form, space and human perception. Yet despite working with physical objects, his philosophy places people at the center of everything.
“The world is about people, not objects,” he often says.
When I asked what transforms an object into something emotional and human, his answer revealed the deeper philosophy behind his work.
For Levy, sculptures, paintings, photographs and installations serve as communicators between people and ideas. They invite viewers to question, reflect and establish a connection with their own experiences.
His RockFormation series provides a striking example. The sculptures explore balance, instability, care and support. Viewed from one angle, the forms appear perfectly balanced; from another, they seem on the verge of falling.
The uncertainty raises a distinctly human question: What allows us to remain standing when everything seems unstable?
It is a question that extends beyond sculpture into our emotional, social and psychological lives.
Levy sees opposing forces as an essential part of existence. Every action produces a reaction, and the tension between stability and instability is as much a condition of life as it is a recurring element in his art.
Looking at Levy’s sculptures, I have always felt that they are not simply about rocks or abstract forms. They seem to speak of growth, fragility, relationships and our connection with nature.
When I shared this interpretation with him, he agreed, explaining that words such as rock, growth, formation and intimacy carry familiar associations, but their combinations can open unexpected spaces in our imagination.
His intention, he explained, is not necessarily to tell his own story. Instead, he wants viewers to discover something about themselves through the work.
“For me, the work is not complete when I create it. It becomes complete through the encounter with the person experiencing it.”
Perhaps this is what makes his sculptures so compelling. Their meaning is not fixed by the artist alone but evolves through the emotions, memories and interpretations of those who encounter them.
Born in Tel Aviv, Levy has lived and worked across different cultures, including Switzerland, Japan and France. Today, his life and artistic practice are closely connected to Saint-Paul-de-Vence in southern France.
When I asked whether identity still means belonging to one place, his answer suggested something more fluid.
Every environment, he believes, leaves an impression. Each experience adds another layer to what he describes as our “behavioral DNA,” gradually shaping how we perceive and respond to the world.
Interestingly, he also shared a rather unexpected personal detail: According to his genetic ancestry results, he is 3% Turkish, a connection he finds amusing but meaningful.
Istanbul, however, represents something much more tangible to him.
Beyond its extraordinary history, Levy feels connected to the city’s energy, contradictions and, above all, its people. He speaks fondly of the generosity of Turkish culture, his relationships with local collectors and the pleasure of discovering Istanbul from the water.
He has also printed most of his books in the city.
Food is another layer of his emotional connection. With grandparents who came from Bulgaria, Levy finds familiar flavors in Turkish cuisine that remind him of meals shared around his family’s table.
For an artist whose work constantly explores memory and belonging, these seemingly simple connections carry a significance of their own.
Levy’s experience with dyslexia is also a fascinating aspect of his creative identity, one he has discussed openly throughout his career
Rather than defining his perception as purely visual, he describes dyslexia as something that has helped him develop an entire toolbox of ways to experience and interpret the world.
He speaks of recognizing codes, vibrations, energies and subtle connections that others may overlook.
This sensitivity, combined with his fundamentally positive outlook, informs an artistic language that moves freely between sculpture, photography, painting and installation.
His recent works also seem particularly connected to the uncertainty of contemporary life.
New sculptures added to his sculpture park incorporate stronger kinetic qualities and a greater sense of movement, while maintaining their improbable balance.
For Levy, they reflect a world shaped by constant change and forces that often appear beyond our control. Yet they also express resilience, adaptability and the human ability to remain standing despite opposing pressures.
Toward the end of our conversation, I invited Levy to imagine a world without the restrictions of time, budget, reality or even gravity. What would he wish to create?
His answer was both playful and revealing.
“Tomorrow is already so far behind me. I live in the future,” he said, explaining that many of the works appearing today were imagined years earlier.
But beyond creating another physical object, his ambitions reach toward something less tangible: time, joy, emotion, positive energy and experiences that can be shared.
He also spoke of his desire to present a major museum exhibition, where he could explore his work with greater freedom and engage in a deeper exchange with curators.
Thinking back to our meeting in Istanbul, I find myself returning to the book he signed for me and the generosity of that simple gesture.
Levy’s art may take the form of monumental sculptures, reflective surfaces or carefully balanced structures, but its essence seems to lie somewhere beyond the material itself.
Perhaps, in the end, what holds his artistic universe together is precisely what he values most: the invisible connections between people.
