Ialingédé 1924

Alexandre Jacovleff made this drawing, Ialingédé, in 1924, a portrait of a person rendered in charcoal. I can almost feel the powdery dust of the medium as it was applied to the page, rubbed in, layered, and lifted away. There’s something so beautiful about the directness and simplicity of charcoal. You know, as an artist, there are days when the process of painting feels like excavation. You start with a single mark, then you look, you respond, you adjust. Here, the artist probably shifted his weight, squinted his eyes, and continued building up those values, those lines that delineate Ialingédé’s face, his gaze fixed towards the horizon. It makes you wonder about the conversation they might have had. The act of portraiture is always an exchange, a collaboration between artist and model, a way of seeing and being seen that transcends time. Like a palimpsest, each layer of charcoal adds a new layer of feeling to the work, offering new insights into its meanings. I can see so many links with the work of other artists, and in those dialogues, new forms emerge.