Lines of truth: The emotional power of sketches in a digital age

CHENNAI: In recent weeks, music mogul Sean ‘Diddy’ Combs's trial has captured public attention, not just for its developments but also for the powerful courtroom sketches emerging from it. These illustrations have reignited a conversation about the unique role of courtroom art in storytelling. Unlike photographs, which are often limited by legal restrictions or emotional detachment, sketches can capture the moment's intensity, tension, and emotional depth.

Akshayaa Selvaraj, who views art as a powerful medium for social and political commentary, reflects on how sketches can communicate stories that words and even photographs often cannot. She shares, “If you glance at one of Palestinian artist Maisara Baroud’s sketches, your mind instinctively begins to piece together the stories hidden in each stroke.

Using only black ink against white paper, his minimalist style powerfully captures the depth of emotion, whether it’s the haunting black of night or the solid black coffin carrying the body of a martyred young girl with braided hair.

These images stir grief in the viewer’s heart in a way that a photograph might not, perhaps because such photographs are often censored, ignored, or reduced to mere data. For Baroud, these bold, sharp strokes are not just art - they are a message of survival and resistance, a way to say to his friends: ‘I am still alive.’ Over the past 15 months, he has created over 500 such works, documenting the ongoing displacement and loss experienced by his people,” says Akshayaa.

This emotional and expressive quality of sketching is not limited to professional artists. Akshayaa points to a drawing made by six-year-old Menna from Gaza, created while she was staying in a UNRWA shelter.

In her sketch, Menna depicts the ‘before and after’ of war: figures represented as big and small cylindrical shapes with sad faces and broken hearts, and those martyred rising to the sky to become stars. “The drawing may be simple, but it offers a powerful window into the child’s inner world.

It reminds us that the value of a sketch doesn’t lie in technical perfection or artistic tools, but in its ability to reflect raw emotion, innocence, and personal meaning - something a photograph might struggle to convey.”

Whether it’s an artist like Baroud documenting the trauma of war or a child like Menna expressing her emotions in a shelter, the essence remains the same. “Sketching becomes a language of the soul. While some sketches - such as those meant for scientific documentation of a plant or architectural drawing - require objective detail and accuracy, others, like reimagining a memory or capturing a movie frame, offer room for creativity and emotional expression,” she adds.

Akshayaa notes that regardless of the purpose, artistic sketching softens harsh realities and centres human experience. “It invites the viewer to connect more deeply with the artwork, with the subject, and with their inner world. Through its simplicity and honesty, a sketch creates space for empathy, imagination, and genuine connection.”

Hemalatha Venkatraman, another artist, says that if she had to choose between photographs of a trial or courtroom sketches, she’d prefer the drawings any day. “I think many people don’t realise how difficult it is to chronicle proceedings in this manner.

Setting aside the technical skill required to create real-time portraits with accurate likenesses, it’s fascinating how courtroom sketch artists manage to capture the raw emotional essence of the room. It’s about the choices they make - what moment to depict, what gesture or expression to focus on. Sometimes there are no faces at all, just identifiable features,” says Hemalatha.

She finds the drawings far more impactful than photographs because they always carry a piece of the artist within them, something photos often lack. “Every mark on the pad is a split-second decision - to capture a detail or not.

It’s all about trade-offs: what’s most important to show, who to include, who to leave out…all while working within the strict constraints of the courtroom,” she explains. “It’s dynamic and fast-paced.

They can’t pause the proceedings to draw, nor can they take hundreds of shots to later pick the best one. It’s all happening live, and the practice is entirely intentional. Practices like this, which demand extreme intentionality, speed, and years of dedicated skill-building, have a kind of depth and layering you just don’t find elsewhere.”

Hemalatha believes that all forms of art come full circle, with waves of popularity - be it sketching, photography, or videography. “People who grew up with little to no technology are more familiar with traditional practices like courtroom sketching - it was once the norm.

Now, a generation raised entirely with digital media is discovering these art forms as something new. For them, sketching is a refreshing departure from the constant stream of photos and videos they’ve always known. It feels novel - and in many ways, it’s a welcome relief from media overload. That’s what’s driving this newfound appreciation," opines Hemalatha.