B. Blanco

B. Blanco’s prints feel like a messy dinner party—every face crowding into the frame, each line slurred by ink. The artist loved hats, especially ones that sat crooked, and drew them with the same loose grip you’d use to hold a pencil you’ve stolen from a café. Look up *H Beard Print Collection* and you’ll find a room full of strangers all leaning in, as if Blanco invited half of 19th-century London over and told them to stay for one more round.