The Artist and Anthropologist
at Work

If one were to stand [at] a polite distance when Carl approached someone he very much wanted to sketch, it would be a revelation. Not being fluent in the particular language, his body language, his smile, his eyes seemed to say a great deal to the often-suspicious subject. He would gesture, they would be unresponsive, he would smile and indicate how much he admired their clothes, shoes, hats, their very village. There would still be puzzlement. He would point to his sketch pad and pencil and indicate what he would like to do. And after a while, there would be a lessening of the tension in the air, and a smile would escape the lips of a Quechua, Aymara, Zincanteca, Bhutanese, or whomsoever, wherever in the world. There would be agreement, and he would get busy while he nodded and posed them. By the time he had finished his sketching, there would be back slapping, kneeling to draw images in the sand with a handy stick, and Carl would be overjoyed that they had communicated.

—BLANCHE P. BERMAN