Grigory and the Child (Book III: The Sensualists, p.74) 1949

Fritz Eichenberg made this, one of his wood engravings, sometime in the middle of the last century. The image, almost gothic in its shadowy tones, is built up from tiny marks. It shows a scene lit by candlelight; a man reads intently from a book, while a woman, or perhaps a child, looks on. I imagine him working at his block of wood, carefully and deliberately carving out each line, each area of light and shadow. You feel the intensity and patience of his labour. The lines have a real weight and substance. Eichenberg, like other printmakers such as Käthe Kollwitz, conveys the weight of human experience through these densely worked surfaces. Look at the man's furrowed brow, the folds of his skin. See how the lines are so close together that they create this depth of tone. It feels like Eichenberg is searching for a form that embodies both empathy and a kind of moral force. He’s thinking hard, I think. We can tell. Ultimately, artists like Eichenberg leave us with more questions than answers, inviting us to bring our own experiences and interpretations to the work.