×
Arnaldo Pomodoro, Sculptor of the World’s Most Iconic Spheres, Dies One Day Before His 99th Birthday

Arnaldo Pomodoro, Sculptor of the World’s Most Iconic Spheres, Dies One Day Before His 99th Birthday

Arnaldo Pomodoro, the Italian sculptor whose enormous bronze globes became cultural landmarks from Rome to New York, has died in Milan just one day before what would have been his 99th birthday.

He passed away peacefully at home on Saturday, June 22, surrounded by loved ones. His niece and the director of his foundation, Carlotta Montebello, confirmed the news early Sunday. The art world is now mourning the loss of a visionary who spent over seven decades reshaping public spaces—and the way we look at them.

The Man Behind the Cracked Spheres

Pomodoro didn’t just make sculptures. He made statements. His signature “Sphere Within Sphere” works are massive bronze orbs that seem to crack open like ancient artifacts, revealing complex, almost mechanical interiors. Some see them as broken worlds, others as hopeful signs of rebirth. That mystery was exactly what Pomodoro wanted.

Arnaldo Pomodoro, Sculptor of the World’s Most Iconic Spheres, Dies One Day Before His 99th Birthday

To him, the tension between smooth exteriors and rough, fractured cores symbolized humanity itself—our polished surfaces hiding inner conflict, chaos, and vulnerability.

His Work Lives Everywhere

You’ve likely walked past one of Pomodoro’s pieces without knowing his name. His sculptures are hard to miss: powerful, metallic, and larger than life.

  • One of the most famous sits in the Vatican’s Pigna Courtyard, slowly spinning in the sun.

  • Another was gifted by Italy to the United Nations in New York, placed outside the General Assembly Hall in 1996.

  • His first bronze sphere was made for the 1966 Montreal Expo, and later installed outside Italy’s foreign ministry.

You can find his works across the globe: in Dublin, Paris, Tel Aviv, Tehran, San Francisco—even in the gardens of Italian castles and American college campuses.

A Life Steeped in Art

Born on June 23, 1926, in a small town in Emilia-Romagna, Pomodoro’s journey started with goldsmithing and stage design. It wasn’t until the 1950s that he fully turned to sculpture—and the art world took notice.

He gained early recognition at the Venice Biennale in 1956 and never looked back. Major awards followed, including the International Sculpture Prize in São Paulo and Italy’s top national sculpture honor in Venice. In 1990, he received the Praemium Imperiale, one of the most prestigious art awards in the world.

Though based in Milan, he taught at Stanford and UC Berkeley in the U.S., helping shape a generation of artists. He also worked with opera companies, designing abstract, otherworldly sets for productions by Puccini and O’Neill.

He Didn’t Just Create—He Inspired

Pomodoro didn’t believe in keeping his legacy in a museum vault. In 1995, he founded the Arnaldo Pomodoro Foundation, aiming to keep art alive in public conversation. The foundation remains a vital center for exhibitions, archives, and emerging artists.

His niece, Carlotta, called him “an artist who always kept his gaze turned toward the future.” Even in his later years, Pomodoro spoke about art’s responsibility to challenge, disrupt, and reflect.

Tributes Pour In

Across Italy and around the world, tributes came quickly. Italy’s Culture Minister Alessandro Giuli described his spheres as “wounded worlds” that captured “the fragility and complexity of our lives.” Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni called Pomodoro “a symbol of Italian creativity and genius.”

Artists and curators echoed the same thought: Pomodoro’s work wasn’t just beautiful—it was brave. It belonged in cathedrals and capital cities because it had something to say.

His Art Will Outlive Us All

What makes Pomodoro’s legacy so enduring is how personal it feels, despite the scale. His spheres are giant, heavy things—but they speak softly. They ask questions instead of giving answers. They reflect us, literally and figuratively.

Today, they spin in courtyards, on college lawns, in front of government buildings—not just as decorations, but as quiet monuments to the idea that beneath the surface, we are all a bit broken, a bit searching, and always in the process of becoming something new.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *