Golde, Tevia's Wife 1957 - 1961

Anatoli Lvovich Kaplan made this lithograph of Golde, Tevia’s wife, using crayon, and it feels like a study in the push and pull between presence and absence. Look at the mark-making; Kaplan coaxes the image out of a haze of horizontal lines. It’s like she’s emerging from the fog, her features just beginning to resolve. Those lines aren't just descriptive, they’re atmospheric. The texture isn’t smooth or blended but raw, exposing the grain of the lithographic stone. It makes me think about how we construct identities, how much is solid, and how much is just a collection of fleeting impressions. The details around her collar are particularly intriguing; they’re both there and not there, a swirl of marks that hints at form without fully committing. Kaplan’s work reminds me of Chaim Soutine, in that both artists were interested in depicting the inner life of their subjects through painterly distortion and expressive mark-making. In the end, art is about creating space for ambiguity.