The Warrior 1938

David Bekker made this drawing, titled "The Warrior," with what looks like charcoal or graphite, at some point in the first half of the 20th century. The marks here are so raw and immediate, you can almost feel Bekker’s hand moving across the page, wrestling with the image. The texture created by these marks is rough, almost sculptural. Look at the lines around the eyes—they’re not just describing the shape of the face, they’re digging into it, revealing something deeper. The black pigment has a subtle sheen in places, catching the light and giving the whole piece a kind of nervous energy. That cigarette dangling from the warrior's mouth? It’s like a punctuation mark, adding a touch of defiance to his expression. This piece reminds me a little of Käthe Kollwitz's prints, that same unflinching gaze and commitment to portraying human struggle. But Bekker's mark-making feels even more frenetic, like he’s trying to capture a fleeting moment of truth before it vanishes. What is it to be a warrior? Is it strength, or is it perseverance? Ultimately the work is about the openness and the possibility of the medium.