Iron Bank Elephant c. 1938

Z.S. Lupus drew this Iron Bank Elephant, at an unspecified time, using what looks like graphite or charcoal. Two figures of an elephant appear on the paper, each carrying a little box on their back. Looking at these, I try to imagine Lupus at work, coaxing the animal forms onto the page. What was on their mind when they conceived the image? The soft shading gives each elephant volume and weight, doesn't it? I am fond of the delicate strokes that animate their skin. It reminds me of the subtle ways in which the simplest gestures can convey the most profound emotions. They seem to say something quiet and deep about the nature of expression itself. The tradition of artists observing and interpreting the world around them—especially animals—is long and lovely. Each generation builds upon the insights of those who came before, so how do you interpret this? It's a process of exchange, isn't it? A constant dialogue across time.