Katerina Wilczynski

Katerina Wilczynski carried a tiny sketchbook everywhere she went, drawing whatever caught her eye—crumbling Roman walls, a Sicilian café’s peeling paint, the way light hit a wine bottle at lunch. During the war she hid in a Krakow attic, filling sheets with anything but the bombs outside. She never let style get in the way of a straight line. Try her 1956 drawing of Taormina’s Antichita sign—just ink and paper, but you can smell the lemon trees and hear the waiter’s radio.