Sofia Fränkl

Sofia Fränkl didn’t leave a paper trail, but her prints feel like love letters to Bucharest in the 1930s. She turned everyday corners—doorways, tables, cats perched on chairs—into quiet little worlds you could tuck in a coat pocket. Look up her woodcut called “Păsările,” and you’ll see why: the way she carved feathers feels like she caught the morning light on a kitchen floor. The gallery keeps it near the windows so the print’s shadows and lines dance.