Peeping Ed
I went to my first exhibition in Boston at the Museum of Fine Arts. I want to thank them whole hearted-ly for putting together such a comprehensive exhibition of Edward Hopper's work. They had 4 rooms of his paintings from all over the world, which I am sure is a curator's nightmare to pull together. Nevertheless, the curators definitely pulled it off.
There is something about Edward Hopper's surrealist and minimalist style that stirs up so much thought and emotion. I have to admit, I do not feel this way about his later paintings of Cape Cod landscape. They just are pretty Cape Cod paintings that you can find in a v. v. expensive Cape Cod hotel and not think to look twice.
I have a feeling that Edward Hopper, when he first started painting, always had in his mind the ambition to make a living through painting. You can see the strive for commercial success in his paintings. They are safe and familiar yet with a twist to distinguish his style and perspective.
The stuff I like the most are his New York era paintings, where he toys with the idea of privacy in the urban world. He looks out from his window into yours. He sees your life as you live it when you do not think anybody is watching. But with skyscrapers like dominos stacked one after the other, you cannot demand privacy. Your world clashes with someone else's. Edward Hopper captures those clashes of privacy. As you look at his paintings, you get this feeling that you should not be there. But you are, and you can't stop looking. You wonder what the people in the paints are thinking. You just witness a lapse in their life, a glimpse of their world.
And Edward Hopper channels that feeling so well. The way he can control light in his paintings is very impressive. Bare rooms, minimal composition and all about how light shines on that moment to share your privacy with all...
If you are in Boston, I would highly recommend seeing this exhibition. Otherwise, try to see him somewhere. When you are standing in front of one of his paintings, it is captivating.
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