JAKUPSIL

Anikoon, with the persona of a robot, invites us to embrace the child within—a figure that smiles yet carries complexities. The term persona traces back to the masks worn by actors in ancient Greek theater. Rather than revealing a deep, authentic self, the persona signifies the mask we present to the world. Perhaps, our true essence is not some unknowable core but rather the very mask we don each day. For Anikoon, that mask is the robot. The artist’s name, blending “animation” and the suffix -kun (君), evokes the innocence of a “manga boy,” a playful spirit imbued into Anikoon’s robot creations.

Anikoon’s robots eschew the sleek sophistication of cutting-edge technology. Instead, they are akin to cultural icons—familiar, slightly awkward, and heartbreakingly tender. Drawing from the visual lexicon of artists like Picasso, Jeff Koons, and Andy Warhol, alongside objects such as coffee cups, Coca-Cola cans, and various toys, Anikoon crafts a narrative where the robot becomes the perfect conduit for storytelling. These vintage robots, restored and cared for by Anikoon, are given new lives on canvas. They greet us with an enthusiastic “Hello!” and the plaintive question, “Would you be my friend?”

At times, they humorously grapple with the absurdities of life—expressing frustration at “the damned world,” firing erratic laser beams, and finding themselves trapped in Campbell’s soup cans or Coca-Cola tins. Far from menacing, their antics evoke the tantrums of children at play, reminding us of the unguarded spontaneity of our inner child. Yet, the expressions on Anikoon’s robots are not purely joyous or carefree. Their smiles are mischievous, sometimes vacant, occasionally flustered, and even tinged with sorrow. Anikoon’s art seeks to foster connection, but not through idealized nostalgia for a perpetually happy childhood. Instead, it embraces the fractured, complex emotions of youth—moments of anger, sadness, and eventual resilience. Through these imperfect yet spirited robots, Anikoon invites us to reconnect with our inner child and, in doing so, approach life with honesty and empathy.

The robots transcend the confines of the canvas, appearing as sculptures that vary in scale—from toy-sized forms to towering figures that seem poised to offer comfort. Even as Anikoon dons the guise of a robot or adopts the name evoking a “boy,” the artist acknowledges the impossibility of being a perpetually cheerful, invulnerable child. Like Anikoon’s creations, we are all multifaceted beings—wounded yet smiling, vulnerable yet resilient. Through these robot masks, Anikoon extends an invitation. The artist shares this playful, bittersweet armor with us, hoping to awaken the long-forgotten “boy” or “girl” within. In the laughter and melancholy of these robots, Anikoon encourages us to recall our childhood with warmth despite its scars and to find joy in the lingering presence of that small, unyielding inner child within the masks we wear.