Edward Hopper: 1882-1967, Vision of Reality (Big Art S.)
Category: Books,Arts & Photography,History & Criticism
Edward Hopper: 1882-1967, Vision of Reality (Big Art S.) Details
About the Author The author: Born in Augsburg, Germany, in 1958, Ivo Kranzfelder studied art history and history in Munich, writing his dissertation on the link between Surrealism and contemporary fashion photography. Since 1986 he has published numerous articles in art journals, and cataloguees says on modern and contemporary art, as well as on photography. His book on George Grosz was published by TASCHEN in 1993. That year he took a teaching post at the University of Munich, where he lives as a freelance author. Read more
Reviews
I feel sorry for Edward Hopper, in a way. His paintings seem to be the most tragic-comically over interpreted around. He kinda thought so too, I hear.He painted pictures of things everybody ( in his generation ) had seen, sort of remembered, but never really noticed. Thus, his visions seemed oddly familiar, even if we couldn't quite place it."Dawn In Pennsylvania" for example. Once everybody did a lot of traveling on trains. Sleeping ( poorly ) on a train, and waking up about the time of the first gray light ( to be followed by what the railroad men call the "blue hour" ) and wondering where you were was part of the American Experience. In "Dawn In Pennsylvania" one is in a station, another train ( or at least a car ) is on an adjacent track, but there is no clue to where it is ( or where the train is supposed to be ) - except that it is in Pennsylvania.Hopper does strange things with his paintings. In "Dawn In Pennsylvania" he shows daylight just rising over the roof lines on the extreme left of the picture. Yet, from the shadows on the platform, there is an awful lot of light coming from the right. What is it? One might as profitably ask what railroad this is, or what kind of factory is in the foreground. The use of light is subtly disorienting. One is slightly confused, but not quite realizing why. The painting thus kind of brings a familiar feeling of "huh...where..what.. ?" along with a familiar ( but none too specific ) sight once seen.While modern image technology makes reproducing classic paintings easier, it also makes modifying them too easy. In some versions of "Dawn In Pennsylvania" the whole sky is an early morning blue. In this book, there is just a hint of light over the roof tops. "Chop Suey" is another picture whose coloration varies from one copy to another. The version in this book, is, I think, credible, even if the reds are a bit pronounced. Some versions have the reds almost rust colored. What does the actual painting look like? One is forced to wonder."The Barber Shop" preserves a scene still around in the 50s. It seems at one time architects devised the business building with a split level entrance, one to a basement half below street level, and to other to a floor half a floor up from street level, offering the landlord twice the "street level" leasing space. The twenties and thirties seem to have been the hey day of this design. "The Barber Shop" shows this once familiar arrangement. The massive brass railing was not uncommon either ( classed up the lower level ). Immediacy is reminding the viewer of things they sort of remember, but didn't really notice.I suspect most people today were born into a world of movie multiplexes in malls. Once upon a time ( before television ) motion picture theaters were indeed palaces. The Keith-Albee in Huntington West Virginia comes to mind. And they were staffed by ushers. "New York Movie", circa 1939, reminds those of us, of ancient enough vintage, who remember newsreels, of a time when that was all real. Even if I never saw the ushers in smart uniforms.Once everyone had seen something like that. Now most have not, and few remember. Half the meaning of art always resides in the audience.The thing I like the least about this book is the lack of an index or comprehensive table of contents. If you want to look up a particular painting, you have to pretty much remember where it was in the book.