The Hand Of Justice
How courtroom sketch artist Jane Rosenberg tells the story of a trial.
By Abigail Fagan published July 2, 2024 - last reviewed on August 6, 2024
![Jefferson Siegel / Used with permission. Jefferson Siegel / Used with permission.](https://cdn2.psychologytoday.com/assets/styles/article_inline_full_caption/public/articles/2024-06/Jane%20Rosenberg%20Author%20Photo-SILO-web.jpg?itok=idxexz1i)
Imagine having a front-row seat at the biggest trials of the century. You’re not a judge, juror, or lawyer, but a more unusual participant—a courtroom sketch artist. Jane Rosenberg has drawn dozens of historic cases, including Donald Trump, Harvey Weinstein, Bernie Madoff, John Gotti, El Chapo, Tom Brady, and Martha Stewart. Since photography is prohibited in federal court, artists such as Rosenberg are sometimes the public’s only window into the proceedings. Her new book is Drawn Testimony.
![Jane Rosenberg / Used with permission. Jane Rosenberg / Used with permission.](https://cdn2.psychologytoday.com/assets/styles/article_inline_half_caption/public/articles/2024-06/John%20Gotti_20220829_124215-web.jpg?itok=Y2O-qiLh)
How do you convey the story of a trial through a sketch?
I’m looking at somebody as they move through time and space, and I capture different emotions, different angles. I take notice of any facial expression that’s other than a normal relaxed face, like a grimace, tears, or anger. That also comes from listening to testimony and knowing that a certain line of questioning could elicit emotion. Their face muscles start to change. Their eyes could begin to water. They could look for a tissue box. Their voice could start to quiver. I don’t know how far it’s going to go, but I start a new drawing. I think art touched by human hands is more interesting than a photo.
![Jane Rosenberg / Used with permission. Jane Rosenberg / Used with permission.](https://cdn2.psychologytoday.com/assets/styles/article_inline_half_caption/public/articles/2024-06/Trump_20230404_161615-web.jpg?itok=tfR87upG)
The drama of the mafia in the 80s and 90s, for example, was a gift. I loved drawing those characters; they were right out of central casting. They had great faces, great expressions. Some talked out the side of their mouths or strutted as if they had all the power. They didn’t come in in crew cuts and suits like the lawyers. They hung out in gangs and sat in a row supporting each other. They were an interesting bunch. One time John Gotti made a gesture toward his chin—he didn’t like my drawing because I gave him too much of a double chin.
![Jane Rosenberg / Used with permission. Jane Rosenberg / Used with permission.](https://cdn2.psychologytoday.com/assets/styles/article_inline_half_caption/public/articles/2024-06/Woody%20Allen_20200914_154629-web.jpg?itok=7285joNa)
At the trial of Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, the Boston Marathon bomber, a woman who had been a dancer testified. She lost her leg and couldn’t dance anymore. Tsarnaev stared down at the table and never once looked at her. When she got up and walked past him, he still wouldn’t look up. She was furious. As she walked past, she turned back and gave him this burning glare. That was something I knew I had to draw. Tsarnaev damaged so many people’s lives, and he wouldn’t face his victims. I thought it told an important story.