The Two Parrots, the King, and His Son 1927 - 1930

Editor: This is Marc Chagall's charcoal drawing, "The Two Parrots, the King, and His Son," created sometime between 1927 and 1930. It's overwhelmingly dark, but there’s this undeniable… energy radiating from it, especially from the central parrot figure. What strikes you most when you look at this, what stories does it tell you? Curator: It whispers to me of dreams, and maybe a touch of yearning. Chagall, he was a conjurer, wasn't he? Not just with images, but with emotions. The charcoal itself feels like a fading memory, a half-told fairytale. I see a bird, yes, but I also sense royalty and longing, all swirling together in that dark backdrop. Doesn't it feel almost like you're peering into the past? A bit like overhearing secrets. What about the other elements – the 'king' and his son – do they speak to you at all? Editor: I see them now – they’re much more faint. Like ghostly observers in the shadows. Does the overt symbolism come from his Russian-Jewish heritage and experience, perhaps folktales and their archetypes? Curator: Absolutely! Chagall was marinated in folklore and Yiddish culture. The bird here, perhaps freedom, maybe wisdom. Kings represent power, family duty. What if this is less about concrete individuals and more about universal struggles—freedom versus duty, for instance? And don’t you find charcoal particularly affecting? It has this ephemeral feel, perfect for capturing dreams and fading memories. Editor: That’s fascinating. It feels more personal now. All those stories blending, like shadows. Curator: And art, at its best, should it do just that: touch the heart, set the mind ablaze, and leave you yearning to know more? What's so powerful here is that you are participating, aren't you? This work calls to you across time. What a delight! Editor: Definitely gives me a fresh way to see Chagall. Thanks so much for your insights!