For the past two months, 32-year-old Isabelle Brourman has entered 26 Federal Plaza’s immigration court with a large easel and art supplies.
Putting pen to paper inside the facility’s courtrooms and hallways, she has not only illustrated immigrants as they plead their cases, she has also borne witness to masked ICE agents dragging fathers and mothers, daughters and sons out of sight.
Hailing from Pittsburgh, Brourman sought to capture some of the Big Apple’s most significant moments in recent history, including the court appearances of Luigi Mangione and the arraignment of President Donald Trump. Yet for Brourman, the ICE seizures at New York’s immigration court system have been such a dramatic and significant point in American history that she believes it has reconceptualized all of her previous work.
“I think this is like a canary in the coal mine situation. I mean, this is the start of a new day, and it’s happening in the center of the melting pot,” Brourman told amNewYork.
Sketch artist capturing the ‘aftermath’
After following Trump on the campaign trail and drawing moments leading up to the election that have changed the world’s current landscape, Brourman has dubbed this ICE documentation “aftermath.” With just a pen, a large white sheet of paper, and her own talent, she has faced down armed Feds and did not flinch.
Contrasting traditional sketch artists, Brourman depicts moments both inside court hearings and what many are calling abductions in the hallways and combines them to construct one larger piece, something she calls “structural collapse.”
With photography being denied inside the court proceeding process, Brourman has had the unique perspective to witness and illustrate that which photojournalists cannot capture on camera.
That unique viewpoint provides her the ability to flesh out the moments before ICE strikes. She says she often sees the federal agents standing outside the courtrooms and peering inside while attendees — too afraid to leave —plead with judges. Often, their pleas fall on deaf ears.
“Sometimes, someone will look out into the doorway and say, ‘Am I going to be okay? What about that?’ The judge will say something along the lines of, ‘If there’s anybody outside my door, that’s a public space, and that they’re allowed to be there,’” Brourman recalled.
Brourman captured these moments with startling and tragic detail. Combing over sheets upon sheets of paper inside her Brooklyn apartment, her room is a reflection of her work and personality.
A gigantic and ominous portrait of Donald Trump sits beside her bed, peering over the mattress. Scene after scene of ICE detainments can be found on a coffee table and inside drawers. Some of these chaotic landscapes are bursting with color and filled with memorable moments; others are more unfinished, an aspect that Brourman said is purposeful since much of the present is unfinished.
Although, as an artist, her craft is primarily visual, she shared that one of the most traumatic moments covering ongoing ICE detainments is not what she saw but instead what she heard — ICE agents rushing into a courtroom in order to detain an immigrant.
“There was a young man next door to the courtroom I was in, and there was quite a commotion. The courtroom I was in shared a wall, so we heard it, and it was just me, the judge, and the clerk, and the clerk was worried that she needed to lock the door. And the judge actually said, ‘You know, you can wait in the chambers and keep the door open.’ I wanted to know what’s going on. So, I went out there, and there was this young man from Morocco who was being dragged out. It was clear that he was crying,” Brourman said.
“He tried to run, and he tried to basically jump over the banister to try to get out the other door, and the officers plunged. And that was the sound,” Brourman added. “He tried to run and jump over the banister to try to get out the other door, and the officers, like, plunged… So, that was the sound.”
Brourman’s striking work also draws attention from her subjects, both those attending their legally mandated hearings and ICE agents alike.
She stated that children often take an interest in her scribblings. The humanity of kids is a common theme throughout her work, as is their reactions to both the masked agents and the overall proceedings. She has dedicated one whole piece just to mothers and their children, something that has become even more timely following the arrest of a 7-year-old girl and her mother.
“I spend a lot of time with the kids in a different way than everyone else gets to interact with the families. And I am lucky for that there’s just so much warmth also that is existing in this space. And it sort of hurts in a way,” Brourman said. “It’s just heartbreaking.”
ICE themselves are often seen standing over Brourman and pushing her as they race to make a detainment. Sometimes the hulking figures, towering over the artist, peer down at her work and the reflection of themselves she produces. Yet, she does not waver and uses their presence as further inspiration.
Brourman told amNewYork that she hopes one day these images will find their home on the wall of a museum where, long after the detainments have stopped, people will be able to look back on a fleeting moment in history.
“The true goal is that it finds a place, somewhere where it can sort of serve as a capsule to what I hope is a temporary event,” Brourman said. “I’m going to keep an eye on it as long as it’s going.”
