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.