George Bernard Shaw 

Curator: This is Joseph Simpson’s pencil and graphite portrait of George Bernard Shaw. A striking, intimate rendering, don't you think? Editor: Intimate indeed. I get a real sense of thoughtfulness, a quiet observation. There's a vulnerability to him that I didn’t necessarily associate with Shaw, whose public persona was usually quite forceful. It makes you wonder what he was really like when he thought no one was looking. Curator: It’s intriguing, isn’t it? I wonder about the power of portraiture, particularly drawings. It seems to capture more of a personality or, maybe, the artist’s own feelings for the subject, perhaps even more so than photography. What is left unsaid here is compelling. I also wonder how much Shaw shaped his own representation; it's fascinating to think how artists grapple with subjects like him, public figures known for controlling their image. Editor: That’s interesting. Considering the tools used here—pencil and graphite—one imagines Simpson’s mark-making allowed him to swiftly work to make something deeply penetrating. Curator: I think that sense of speed contributes to that feeling of vulnerability. Simpson isn't meticulously crafting an icon; instead, it feels like we've caught Shaw in a private moment, captured by the artist almost unawares. The way the pencil strokes build form, especially in the face and beard… There is a captivating simplicity that leaves you wanting to know more about the depicted person, and the moment in history they were living through. It’s a remarkable exercise in line, form, and emotion that showcases the intimacy that can exist between artist and sitter. Editor: Agreed. Thinking about art and its subjects and the role portraits play as not only markers of time and celebrity but documents that are always being scrutinized and revised. It can all be overwhelming when assessing something that appears so still.