Pană Ion

Pana Ion carried a small sketchbook everywhere, filling it with quick jabs of charcoal on café napkins. At night, those scribbles became the thick, gestural portraits he’s known for—faces that look like they’ve just stepped out of a lively Bucharest tavern. Swipe to “Fruntaşul Dragoescu,” a 1930s canvas where a mustached union boss leans on a table, jacket sleeves rolled up like he’s about to roll up his sleeves for real work.