As I recall the hours I spent in the Museum of Modern Art, I am reminded of the masterful work of Edward Hopper. Hopper, an American artist, was known for his enigmatic and melancholic paintings of urban life in America. He perfected the art of loneliness in his paintings and a representation of individuals absorbed by solitude. His paintings depict solitary figures staring into the abyss. The words of my former partner ring in my ears till this day. She felt the figures were recognition of the fleeting moments of loneliness that exist in all of us, whether we are amid a pandemic, economic recession or just in an ordinary day.
Hopper’s famous work, Nighthawks (1942), continues to be referred to and revered in today’s day and age. The painting portrays alienation and voyeurism quiet contemplation the scene depicts four people
in a New York City diner at night it’s meant to be somewhere in Greenwich Village where Hopper lived. There are one waiter and three patrons whose relationships are all ambiguous. Seated closely in an empty diner at dusk, it is assumed that these two knew each other. Somehow, their hands overlap yet don’t touch. Suggesting they’re in different phases and could be strangers if not just momentarily estranged. Prima facie, one looks at the dinner from an odd angle. From the vantage of an onlooker crossing the street. The triangular corner juts into the frame like the prow of a boat.
This is no coincidence. Not only was Hopper obsessed with the imagery of boats but he repeatedly situated his buildings’ angles like so. For Hopper, his subjects were both, behind and in front of windows. Of course, windows are the place where the separation between outside and inside becomes complicated. Not because we can physically move through them but because our sight does. One’s gaze invades these private worlds. Indeed, Hopper’s artistic romance with windows often appears as if windows are non-existent. Hopper’s windows vanish. They invite a voyeuristic look. Aware of the fact that knowing that houses like people can be penetrated with a gaze Hopper was a very slow, very deliberate painter.
Hopper wanted his devotion to each work to be mirrored by our appreciation as slowly and deliberately as he painted. He wanted his viewers to look at the vulnerable crouching in the dark in the building; Or opposite or simply crossing the street. Note, there is no door to the diner in Nighthawks. No way in except by way of sight. A sight that enters the fluorescent light of the establishment passes through the three patrons in their ennui and loneliness and exits into the dark.
In short, Nighthawks exemplifies Hopper’s style of a dramatic play of light, shadow, and a hue of mystery. Tensions and disconnections between people are exemplified in paintings such as Room in New York and Summer Evening. “We are all Edward Hopper paintings now,” I read on the internet. Alluding to the sense of isolation that has permeated societies undergoing lockdown due to the coronavirus pandemic. Hopper’s work resonates as the world remains in the shackles of lockdowns, even if partial. Without a shadow of a doubt, such expressions of emotions and feelings like loneliness mirror what so many feel inside due to the ‘new normal.
Nevertheless, Hopper’s work is far beyond the dull and melancholic mood of mundaneness that hangs over our heads. His paintings are a brilliant psychological illustration that speaks to the artist’s experience and thoughts on life. In solitude and social isolation, Hopper’s figures offer a kinship to the viewer, a recognition of the fleeting moments of loneliness that exist in all of us whether we’re amid a pandemic, economic recession or just an ordinary day.
Hopper’s paintings, like the rest of his skilful ilk, demand a story of interpretation. His paintings resemble book covers awaiting analysis, awaiting narratives. In such an amalgam of mystery and openness, Hopper’s paintings exude an exquisite and memorable sentiment. Staring at Hopper’s works, one notices the life in the subjects painted. Hopper’s work, in my analysis, in my narrative, seeks not to compound loneliness, but simply to recognise it.
