Over a cliff 1920

Kuzma Petrov-Vodkin created this drawing using ink with delicate hatching to create soft tonal gradations. I can imagine him bent over the paper, perhaps in a cafe, conjuring up a whole world with just a few lines. These figures loom large, perched on what looks like a precipice, with a village unfurling beneath them like a map. There's something unsettling about the perspective; are we above or below? Are we about to fall? Maybe he was thinking about scale, about how we as individuals relate to the vastness of the earth and our place within it. I'm struck by the artist's delicate hand, by the way, he coaxes the ink to do his bidding, how he can suggest so much with so little. Ultimately it reminds me of work by Käthe Kollwitz, which also has the immediacy and honesty of lived experience. Artists are always in dialogue, aren’t they? They’re constantly building on each other’s ideas, challenging conventions, and pushing the boundaries of what's possible. It’s an ongoing conversation across time.