Twins 1967

Ossip Zadkine's 'Twins' is rendered with a network of hatch marks, a dance of black ink on a pale surface. It’s like a blueprint for a sculpture, or maybe a map of an unknown city, where human forms emerge from geometric abstraction. I can almost feel the artist's hand moving, scratching the lines into the plate, building up the density and texture. What might Zadkine have been thinking about as he composed the two figures? Their connection seems both intimate and fragmented. Are they mirror images, or two halves of a whole? I see a relationship between the density of marks and the forms he's depicting. This piece reminds me of Picasso’s cubist portraits, but also holds a dialogue with sculptors like Brancusi, who pared down forms to their essential shapes. Artists have always been in conversation, echoing and riffing off each other’s ideas. Ultimately, it’s about embracing uncertainty, letting the artwork breathe and shift with each viewing.