Korsun 1957

Hryhorii Havrylenko made this drawing, Korsun, with black ink on paper. What a delicious quick sketch, right? I love to imagine the artist grabbing whatever was at hand—a worn-out pen, a bit of scrap paper—and just diving in. Those dark, decisive lines that make up the tree trunks really anchor the composition. I can almost feel the scratch of the pen on the page, can't you? Look at the thinner, more tentative strokes sketching out the branches; they remind me of Cy Twombly’s scribbles, a sort of elegant dance between intention and accident. The little houses in the background, barely there, give the whole scene a sense of depth, like a stage set waiting for a play to begin. There is something so immediate and present in this sketch—as though we are watching the artists hand as he's drawing. You know, artists are always talking to each other across time, borrowing ideas, and riffing off each other's moves. Havrylenko’s quick strokes remind me of the calligraphic marks of Chinese landscape painting, a way of capturing the essence of a scene with the fewest possible gestures. Each stroke carries meaning and feeling, inviting us to slow down and really see.