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Latest items? Unedited? Fringe Report Uncut
Edward Hopper (1882-1967)
Art Exhibition
Verdict: Master of alone
London - Tate Modern - 27 May-5 September 04
Edward Hoppper's paintings have inspired generations of people working in film, theatre, and literature. He's the definitive voice of alienation, creator of two of the most famous images of the 20th century. One's here, one isn't.
Nighthawks pictures four people in the lonely night. A couple brood over coffee, in sharp focus through the plate-glass window of Phillies's diner. A stranger sits hunched at another side of the bar, sunk in his own thoughts, or watching the couple. The proprietor bends to serve, caught in mid-speech.
It's the picture that's launched a thousand films-noire, the image embedded in every novel of the isolated soul. Casablanca? The couple could be Humphrey Bogart and Ingrid Bergman; the watcher Sydney Greenstreet. As easily, the cast of The Maltese Falcon could be waiting round the corner.
The couple, though, are likely as not Mr & Mrs Hopper. Edward Hopper and the painter Josephine Verstille Nivison had a long and apparently devoted marriage, from 1924 till their deaths within a year of each other (1967, 1968 respectively). Edward Hopper repeatedly painted women, his investigation sensual. His model, invariably, was his wife. His men are often seemingly himself, the couples usually Edward and Jo Hopper.
Nighthawks is perhaps Hopper's best-known painting, and forms a highlight of the present enormous exhibition - room after room of canvases, sketches, and (just before the exit) filmed interviews with the artist. Painted in 1942 (the year of Casablanca's release), it's about 5' x 3'. An impressive painting - real pictures behind mass images may sometimes disappoint - its dimensions suggest a wide-screen cinema-still. Hopper's other equally famous canvas is missing.
So much has been written about Edward Hopper, that it's hard to find a new analysis. The exhibition is a real delight - best not to read, but to go and visit. The pictures have such knock-out power, the sexual and erotic undercurrent is so intense, the feeling of alone-ness so striking, that - compared with the works - words are irrelevant. Fabulous - at last an exhibition that defies description.
But for those who like to read, here are notes about some of the pictures, and some of the themes:
Eleven AM (1926, oil on canvas, approx 3' x 2'). A hotel room, a seated naked woman looks to an open window. Her face is unseen, the view is of her back, her pose pensive.
Two On The Aisle (1927). A theatre, a woman is turned away from the viewer, reading a brochure. In the front row, a couple put on, or take off their coats.
Williamsburg Bridge (1928). From a bridge, which takes up most of the frame, there's a view of the tops of buildings. In the window of one, a woman sits in profile. It's the reverse shot of many of the intimate portraits of women who sit alone looking out. As in many of the buildings, Hopper's empty windows suggest eyes - as if the buildings themselves observed, but without animation.
Sunday (1926). A man - Hopper - sits on a boardwalk pavement. His uneasy pose, and the emptiness of the street evokes the desolation of a Sunday - a day when the single are perhaps most alone. (This isn't an exhibition for the suicidal).
Night Windows (1928). The view's from the pitch dark outside, through windows to a woman's bottom. She's in a red dress (in Hopper's painting, the red dress occurs often, and black high heels), bending away from the viewer. A curtain billows out from the open window.
Morning Sun (1952). A woman in a short dress, with bare thighs, stares out of a window. She's in profile. The model is Jo Hopper, imagined in older age.
A Woman In The Sun (1961). A naked woman stands upright. The cover of her single bed is turned back. A pair of high-heeled black shoes lies under it. She stands in profile in a stream of light, looking out of the frame.
Excursion Into Philosophy (1959). A man sits on a bed, apparently thinking. Next to him, discarded, there's an open book. Behind him, his lover lies asleep in a pink nightdress, her bottom exposed.
Office At Night (1940). A woman stands at a filing cabinet, a man sits at a desk. It's a famous Hopper painting, accompanied by several studies and a sketch book. Loaded with erotic power, the picture evokes passion about to be unleashed.
Self Portrait (1925). Edward Hopper looks to the viewer. He wears a deep trilby, blue shirt, grey jacket, green tie. His eyes seem luminous, his mouth sensual - his lips suggesting a trace of humour. Whatever his paintings may suggest to the contrary, he looks a man who'd be fun to be with.
Stairway (1949 oil on wood). A small picture, one of many of various sizes catching fragments of architecture. Stairs lead to an open door. Beyond there's countryside in twilight.
Hotel By A Railroad (1952). A woman in a pink slip reads a book. A man fully dressed except for his jacket holds a cigarette and looks out of the window. They're a couple in the 50s or 60s, at ease with each other, or comfortably bored - the relaxation inherent in a long-standing relationship.
Hotel Window (1955). An elegant and formally-dressed woman in her 60s or 70s looks out of a ground floor foyer window. She sits on a sofa; she has grey hair, high heels, a red dress, coat with fur shoulder-wings, a smart red hat with rose. Her appearance is courtly.
Intermission (1963 oil on canvas, approx 5' x 3'). It's one of several paintings set in theatres. As with the others, the curtain is closed, the focus is on fragments of the audience. Here a woman sits alone - and is a picture of alone-ness - in a double seat. She looks contemplative, wears high heels, her hair russet.
Two Comedians (1966 oil on canvas). Often interpreted as the Hoppers saying goodbye to their audience prior to their (natural) deaths, the view shows the couple as Pierrots on stage. They bow to the unseen audience.
Sun In An Empty Room (1963). Shown in the same room as Two Comedians, perhaps inviting comparison. It's a completely bare room - the mood suggests clearance after death. The walls and floor are ochre, washed in a faded sunlight, with green bushes outside.
Edward Hopper's work carries many recurring themes - but how these are described is very much a matter of how they strike the individual viewer. Hopper has the delightful ability to touch awkward, intimate, parts of the spirit - often those an individual may not care to discuss.
People are caught in contemplation - often sideways, or facing away. His couples are usually people who are not communicating.
His daylight doesn't feel like daylight. It's lit with a trace of bale - as if infected by moonlight, though it casts sharp daytime shadows.
The world outside is often represented either by empty buildings, or by thick, enveloping green trees that carry a real feeling of menace - there's nothing 'nice' about Hopper's countryside.
Never more true than in Hopper's other most famous painting - Gas (1940). But that, unfortunately, isn't here.
END
John Park
reviewed Friday 28 May 04 / Tate Modern
(c) Fringe Report 2004
reviews@fringereport.com
References:
Edward Hopper's paintings can be seen on many internet sites including:
WebMuseum - Edward Hopper
Mintaka - Edward Hopper
FRINGE REPORT
www.fringereport.com
Edward Hopper (1882-1967)
Art Exhibition
Verdict: Atmosphere and light
London - Tate Modern - 27 May-5 September 04
How Edward Hopper paints could be a guide to viewing his work. Rather than looking closely – apart from his etchings, his brush-strokes lack energy – it’s perhaps best to glide through the rooms capturing glimpses. A rabbit’s side vision would be ideal – much of Hopper’s work looks into corners, not at the main thrust of a scene.
His figurative pictures provoke an embarrassed feeling of intrusion on the person’s private thoughts. There’s a longing to know what’s in the subject’s mind - but a hesitation to disturb the figure basking in the morning light.
Written information about Hopper’s personality is limited - though his work may reveal who he is more effectively than an autobiography. Perhaps Edward and (his wife) Jo Hopper led a reclusive and intense life together. Perhaps their relationship lacked space – it can only ever be conjecture. Hopper grapples constantly with opposite forces – placing for example the freedom of light and space next to the claustrophobia of living in a box. It’s the same claustrophobic viewpoint captured in Woody Allen’s film Hannah and Her Sisters.
There’s a powerful and moody sense of colour. Hopper uses green repeatedly, evoking sometimes intense calmness, sometimes violent disruption. In Nighthawks (1942 - Room 7), the pea-green tiling round the bar jars with the lavatory-yellow of the walls. The eye’s led to the ominous-looking café through a large expanse of soft, cool, green foreground. Within the room, the woman’s skin appears deathly against her auburn hair.
By contrast, Automat (1927 – Room 30) balances softly-lit harmonious colours. It’s redolent of late nights waiting for a bus at a station far from anywhere. The woman at the table looks as if she’s been there forever - she has become her surroundings. Her hat, and the clothes she wears, blend to the colours of the place. She looks disappointed, but the complete alone-ness of her figure is wonderfully calming. The contrast of her pale legs against the soft black of the table and chair gives a feeling of self-containment.
Hopper expresses mood through his particular colours and method of composition. He seems to see the world in the same way as a film-maker or photographer. His scope is the whole scene rather than miniscule detail. Buildings take on the same emotional quality as people - possibly more so. His houses seem like a pair of shoes left behind by their owners, that have taken on their character.
Edward Hopper excels at capturing the mood surrounding people as they think. The chief impact is from the emotive quality of his images - not their detail. The poor quality of Hopper’s detail is at first off-putting. The figures of his model (his wife) are drawn without - apparently - really looking. Feet, legs and breasts look wooden; skin tones are sickly, not warm and fleshy. Oddly, this lack of attention to detail adds rather than subtracts from his work. It’s as if Hopper liberates himself from the tedium of close observation – and gains the ability to seduce with atmosphere and light.
(C) Cecilia Holmes 2004
reviewed Friday 28 May 04 / Tate Modern
Fringe Report (c) Fringe Report 2002-2012
www.fringereport.com
