Edward Hopper
1882–1967

Narrator: Morning Sun, 1952. Oil painting on canvas, 28 by 40 inches. The oil painting Morning Sun is a study of light and shadow. A woman sits in an unremarkable bedroom. She is centered in the middle of a tidy bed. Her lean body and gaunt face are in profile to the viewer as she stares directly ahead towards a large window to the right of the canvas. Her torso leans forwards towards her bent legs, arms gently holding her knees, and hands folded at her shins. Although she is folded into herself in a protective pose, there is no tension to her body. Her muscles are relaxed, her face is expressionless. The light pouring in from the window provides harsh lighting, her pale skin in stark contrast. Her light brown hair is pulled back into a messy low bun and she wears a light pink sleeveless dress. The dress is short, exposing her thighs, legs, and bare feet. Her still body casts a long shadow on the bed behind her. 

The bed takes up most of the space in the room, the composition is crammed into the corner. The sparseness of the room gives an unnatural feel to the interior. The walls are a light mint green and are completely bare, except for the window on the right. The bed itself features only a white sheet and pillow. There is a staged quality, the room being cold, dark, and impersonal. Just the woman and the window connecting, as if in conversation with one another. 

Outside the large window is a brilliant cerulean sky fading into a soft light blue. The tops of brick buildings line the bottom edge of the window.

Narrator: House at Dusk, 1935. Oil on canvas, 36 ½ inches by 50 inches. The painting House at Dusk depicts the top floor of an apartment building as dusk settles around the illuminated windows of the white stone building. In this unusual composition, Hopper has placed the complex at the bottom left corner of a horizontally-oriented rectangular canvas. Light scatters across the top row of windows as the tenants ready themselves for nighttime. Some windows remain darkened with curtains drawn. One tenant looks out a window with their arms resting on the sill.

Behind the building, to the right of the canvas, are gray stone steps leading up a grassy hill to lush trees, almost as if the apartment building were in front of a park. The stairway curves to the right before disappearing into the foliage. Only greenery surrounds the apartment building. The very top of the canvas is a band of sky; a painterly gradient of blue to green to yellow with dark wisps of gray clouds on the horizon. 

Narrator: Cover illustrated by Hopper for Hotel Management, November 1924. This paper is about 11 inches tall and 9 inches wide. An illustration of a busy city street set in roaring twenties America. In the foreground is a man soliciting a couple who are sitting in a green Ford Roadster convertible. The car is parked at an angle, the hood to the right of the composition. The solicitor stands to the left, in profile to the viewer, near the passenger side door. Most of his features are obscured in a harsh shadow. He is holding up several canes in his left hand and a single cane in his right. Each cane has a triangle shaped flag tied horizontally just below the curved crook. The red flags blow in the wind towards the top left corner of the poster; adding a vibrant pop of color to the overall neutral palette. The couple look at the solicitor expressionless, the outlines of their faces heavily shadowed. They are dressed for cold weather, the driver in a fedora and oversized jacket while the passenger wears a cloche hat and wraps. Behind the car, to the right, pedestrians are bustling about in the distance wearing their winter coats. 

In the background, center right, a pristine hotel building rises above the busy foot traffic. The building is positioned at an angle, showcasing the hotel’s grand facade. The light pink brick and white stone building sharply contrast with the heavy dark outlines of the people in the foreground, giving the building a sense of importance. Behind the building is a flat graphic beige sky. Above the illustration is a beige header with black and white text that reads “Hotel Management”. On the very bottom of the page there is a gray footer with black text. The center text reads “Ahrens Publishing Company, Inc. New York”.

Narrator: Girl at a Sewing Machine, oil on canvas, 19 by 18 inches. The oil painting Girl at Sewing Machine, painted in 1921, is a quiet depiction of domestic labor. A young woman is bent over a sewing station positioned in the corner of an interior. The room is dim with high ceilings and a rust colored wall. The seated figure faces the floor length window on the right, the sunny blue sky the only source of light to work by. Warm rays of light cascade at a downward angle, indicating late morning or mid-afternoon. She sits beneath the window, nearly in the center of the composition. Her body and face are seen only in profile. Her figure is soft and plump. Her head is bowed, looking down at her hands, absorbed in her work. A mass of straight, chestnut colored hair covers her shoulders and face; only the tip of her nose is visible. Her warm, pale skin against her cool ivory colored sleeveless dress is almost illuminated. Her unruly hair and scant clothing give the impression that she has not begun to dress for the day. The garment she is attending to is a creamy heap of fabric placed atop the sewing station. 

There are very few personal effects in the room. She sits on a dark wooden chair with a high back and simple frame. The bottom left corner of the composition appears to be a bundle of fabric, which could be either blankets on her bed or perhaps another garment to sew. Just behind the figure to the left is a vanity in a dark wood. A small picture hangs on the dingy orange wall with no discernable imagery. 

Narrator: Blackwell’s Island, 1928. This painting is among one of the largest of Hopper’s oil paintings, measuring 34 1/2 inches by 59 1/2 inches. On a horizontally oriented canvas, the oil painting Blackwell’s Island depicts a cityscape of Roosevelt Island in 1928, seen from a far away distance. From top to bottom, this painting's composition is neatly divided into thirds. The top of the painting is a band of chilly ice blue sky filled with wispy white clouds. The painterly sky is punctuated by buildings from the cityscape below. The urban and industrial buildings are lit in high contrast as if the sun were falling or rising to the right. Smoke stacks, houses, fortress-like walls, a water tower, all crowd one another on the green of the island. In the town, however, there is a conspicuous absence of people. The buildings sit static; no illuminated windows or foot traffic: just a still, early morning.

Just below the island cityscape, in the lower third of the painting, are bright cobalt blue waves. The movement of the waves grows in intensity from left to right, as a speedboat sails through the water to the right edge of the canvas. The levity of the movement sharply contrasts with the dark stillness of the foreboding buildings.

Narrator: On the fifth floor, as you exit the elevators you will be in an exhibition titled, Hopper’s New York. The exhibition has dim lighting and white walls throughout. 20 feet ahead of you is a wall that contains a salon hang of several works on paper and paintings. The wall to the left contains an introduction text and to its right is a 30 foot wide space between two of what the Museum is calling pavilions. These pavilions throughout this exhibition are smaller rooms situated inside of the exhibition space of about 30 feet by 30-40 feet with lower light and two doors to enter and exit. Floating overhead in this hallway is a large projection of the city during Hopper’s time from the elevated frame of a train platform. Straight ahead is a section titled The Window with a series of paintings and the view of the cityscape through a sliver of an open window in the Museum. Moving to your right there is a space dedicated to Edward Hopper’s time spent between New York and Paris. Now, to your right again is the first pavilion titled The City in Print with prints from his early career when he was trying to make a living. Exiting through that pavilion into the main space, you can continue onto the next section titled The Horizontal City with horizontally-oriented paintings of the city. From there, you encounter the second pavilion titled Washington Square. 

Each of these pavilions contains vitrines in the center of the room displaying Hopper’s ephemera. As you exit the Washington Square pavilion, you then launch into a section titled Reality and Fantasy. Moving straight forward in about 30 feet there are three full height walls lined up in a plane with vertical gaps between them, each holding a different painting by Edward Hopper. Accessible from the right and left edges and moving around this wall, there is a respite space with sofa seating in front of a full wall window overlooking the cityscape of the Whitney Museum. Returning again through Reality and Fantasy, you will encounter the Theater pavilion, which is the last pavilion in the main space. The Theater focuses on Hopper’s paintings of cinema interiors with a slide show, a vitrine with ticket stubs and seating. Exiting the Theater to the right is a short hallway with works on paper that leads into the last pavilion in the Kauffman Gallery. The Kauffman gallery sits apart from the rest of the fifth floor galleries on your way out to the terrace, titled, Sketching New York with Hopper’s drawings of the city. This space contains sofa seating, dim light, a projection overhead and works on paper hanging around the space. To exit the Kauffman Gallery, we move back through the hallway. To the right, straight down is another exhibition titled In the Balance: Between Painting and Sculpture, 1965–1985 as well as elevators to the right along the way. 

Melinda Lang: Bridle Path es una de las pinturas más extrañas de Hopper. En ella, decide capturar el camino que usan los jinetes para montar a caballo por Central Park.

Narrator: Asistente jefe de curaduría Melinda Lang.

Melinda Lang: Cuando Hopper se planteó crear esta pintura, hizo varios viajes a este lugar en particular de Central Park. Regresaba todos los días para recopilar información. Tenía la determinación de capturar las formaciones rocosas que se ven allí, el paisaje pastoral sumergido en la metrópolis urbana. Y mientras hacía los bocetos para la pintura, observaba a las personas a caballo (pero no representó a los jinetes en sus estudios). 

Narrator: En uno de los dibujos expuestos en las inmediaciones, se ve el poste de luz que originalmente dispuso donde terminaron estando los jinetes. 

Melinda Lang: Mientras trabajaba en esta pintura en el estudio, hojeaba fotografías de caballos que encontraba en las revistas, y también usó un libro sobre anatomía ecuestre como material de referencia. Creo que, de algún modo, la rareza del movimiento hace que la pintura sea más interesante, porque muestra su dominio de la técnica para representar las formaciones rocosas, los árboles de los alrededores, la tierra y la arquitectura, que prácticamente tienen más vida que las propias figuras.

Farris Wabeh: En su cuaderno personal Notes on Painting, Hopper escribía sus pensamientos sobre el arte y la filosofía. 

Narrator: Farris Wabeh es directora Benjamin and Irma Weiss de Recursos de Investigación en el Whitney.

Farris Wabeh: En el imaginario colectivo, Edward Hopper era un artista reticente que no hablaba demasiado sobre sus pensamientos. Siempre dijo que la pintura hablaba por sí sola. Pero creo que los indicios que nos brindan los archivos sugieren algo muy distinto. Era muy consciente sobre cómo se presentaba ante el público, incluso si se mostraba seco y cortante. Creo que se trataba de un personaje que desarrolló. Y creo que era muy calculador, al igual que con sus pinturas. De hecho, en su cuaderno Notes on Painting, hay una cita que dice “americanismo consciente de sí mismo”, que creo que es una forma muy interesante de pensar en Hopper: ese americanismo consciente de sí mismo en el que reflexionas acerca de cómo te ven los demás, quién eres y cómo puedes crear esa personalidad. 

La cita anterior del cuaderno dice lo siguiente: “El soñador y el místico deben crear una realidad en la que se pueda caminar, existir y respirar”; me parece muy interesante, dado que es un estadounidense tan pragmatista. El hecho de reflexionar sobre las personas místicas y los videntes, incluso dentro de este cuaderno sobre pintura, muestra que tenía pensamientos que nunca expresaría en público. 

Kirsty Bell: Esta pintura es Morning Sun, de 1952; de hecho, es una pintura poco habitual en las escenas de interior de Hopper, ya que se basa en su propio espacio interior. 

Narrator: Kirsty Bell.

Kirsty Bell: En general, en las pinturas de Hopper, los espacios cerrados son construcciones arquitectónicas imaginadas, pero sabemos que esta está basada en su propio espacio.

Narrator: La vista desde la ventana es similar a la que podríamos ver desde la ventana frontal de los Hopper hacia Washington Square North.

Kirsty Bell: El otro punto interesante en relación con esto es que Edward compartía su estudio con su esposa Jo, y ella fue la modelo de todas las figuras femeninas de las pinturas de Hopper desde el momento en que se casaron, en 1924. Fue así durante varias décadas. De hecho, cuando posó como modelo para esta obra, tenía sesenta y ocho años. 

Jo y Edward tenían una relación en la que destacaban las tensiones y dificultades; se los conocía por sus discusiones, y sus personalidades eran muy diferentes. Sin embargo, creo que algo que sí los unía era el rol que tenía Jo en los trabajos de Edward. Cuando era joven, ella había estudiado teatro. Siempre le interesó mucho esta disciplina, y creo que el rol que desempeñaba como modelo para las pinturas de su esposo le daba la oportunidad de reencontrarse con este arte.

Narrator: El artista Kambui Olujimi ha explicado que uno de los aspectos que le resultan más interesantes sobre el trabajo de Hopper son las figuras que le dan la espalda al espectador, como el empleado de oficina que vemos aquí. 

Kambui Olujimi: Creo que todas las figuras deberían tener su propia interioridad; mejor dicho, me interesan las figuras que tienen su propia interioridad. Y en general, vemos eso cuando están ocupados o involucrados en el mundo, pero no en el mundo del espectador, sino en su propio mundo. Ya sea si está mirando por la ventana o interactuando con otro modelo en la pintura, esta forma de pintar —quizás hasta un poco voyerista— enmarca y le aporta cohesión a ese espacio alternativo. En Office in a Small City, vemos a este hombre de negocios mirando casi hasta llegar al éxtasis y una luz que desciende, un ocaso prolongado, que es otro de los aspectos clásicos de Hopper, las luces diagonales a medida que el sol va desapareciendo.

Algo que me resulta muy interesante de esta representación del ocaso o de esta luz prolongada que vemos en todas las obras de Hopper —o en muchas de ellas— es la manera en que describe la ciudad, la geografía y los límites de la ciudad de Nueva York como un lugar en constante movimiento. Ya que, si miras con atención, el entorno ya ha cambiado. Y las pinturas son un intento por mostrar eso, por capturar la imagen en ese instante. Pero también pretenden que el espectador reconozca que, en su próximo aliento, ya no verá lo mismo, sino algo más.

Narrator: Esta caja documenta la defensa del vecindario a la que se dedicaron Jo y Edward Hopper. En 1946, la New York University se convirtió en propietaria del edificio que albergaba el hogar y estudio de los Hopper. Un año más tarde, la universidad comenzó el proceso de intentar desalojar a los residentes del edificio.

Jennie Goldstein: Y los Hopper se pusieron en “modo batalla”.

Narrator: Jenny Goldstein es curadora asistente en el Whitney. 

Jennie Goldstein: Se reunieron con otros vecinos para tratar de dar a conocer lo que estaba ocurriendo con su edificio y con otras propiedades de Washington Square North. Son artistas, personas, escritores, diseñadores, todo tipo de personas creativas a quienes les preocupa no volver a encontrar viviendas asequibles en medio de un increíble aumento de la población y la consiguiente escasez de viviendas. Además, se habían beneficiado del bajo costo de los alquileres durante muchísimo tiempo. De modo que expresan su preocupación personal, el miedo legítimo de perder sus viviendas y espacios de trabajo, pero también comienzan a ver un problema de planificación urbanística más grande. En otras palabras, consideran que la NYU tiene una suerte de “plan maestro” que consiste en apoderarse de todos los edificios que rodean Washington Square, y convertir un parque público como el Washington Square Park en un parque privado de facto.

Una de las cosas que deciden hacer los Hopper es recurrir a Robert Moses, el comisionado de Parques. Sentían que si alertaban al comisionado Moses sobre el plan malvado de una universidad privada de adueñarse de un parque público, podrían obtener más apoyo del Gobierno para su causa; sin embargo, Robert Moses tenía una opinión completamente contraria.

Moses consideraba que esta no era una cuestión de índole pública y que no había nada que pudiera hacer como funcionario público para decidir sobre lo que, esencialmente, era un tema privado. Al parecer, también pensaba que lo que estaba haciendo la NYU no estaba tan mal. Básicamente, querían conservar estos edificios del siglo XIX y usarlos para promover la educación, el arte… Todas las cosas que a los Hopper les interesaban.

De modo que el intento de Jo y Edward Hopper de encontrar apoyo significativo por parte de una figura política importante no funcionó, pero el intento de la NYU de desalojar a los inquilinos tampoco.

Narrator: Estas acuarelas representan los techos del Washington Square Park. En 1913, Hopper mudó su casa y su estudio a un edificio ubicado en 3 Washington Square North. En 1932, él y su esposa —Josephine Nivison Hopper— se mudaron a otro departamento dentro del mismo edificio. Este departamento no era demasiado grande, pero tenía vistas extensas del parque y de los edificios circundantes, lo que se convirtió en una temática frecuente para el artista.

Kirsty Bell: Edward Hopper siempre se sintió atraído por los techos y, en particular, por aquellos que podía ver desde el estudio en donde estaba trabajando.

Narrator: Kirsty Bell es escritora y crítica. 

Kirsty Bell: Al parecer, estos techos de ciudad, estas áreas “clandestinas” que no forman parte del paisaje urbano conocido ponían a disposición de Hopper un entorno más íntimo. Son retratos más íntimos de aspectos de la arquitectura que no pretenden ser visibles. Los tragaluces y las chimeneas… Hay una especie de melancolía, pero también suavidad, en el modo en que el artista aborda este material. 

Narrator: En las descripciones de las obras de Hopper, los críticos suelen usar mucho la palabra “aislamiento”. Eddie Arroyo explicó que él ve esta pintura de otro modo. 

Eddie Arroyo: Me gusta que algunas de las luces de las ventanas estén encendidas y otras, apagadas; parece un momento de tranquilidad. La paleta es bellísima en términos de las tonalidades tenues que tiene. Y la obra tiene una cualidad reflexiva, más relacionada con tomarse un momento y estar cómodo con el espacio en el que se encuentra la figura ahora. 

El punto focal es la figura solitaria y el hecho de que está situada en este paisaje tan equilibrado y natural. En mi opinión, esta pintura en particular tiene que ver con el enfoque en la importancia de la naturaleza por sobre la colonización o el desarrollo de la tierra en general.

Narrator: Una de las cosas que me llama tanto la atención sobre esta pintura es la manera en que Hopper nos ofrece una vista parcial y fragmentada de un edificio que sugiere la presencia de muchos habitantes, pero nos muestra solo a uno. A su vez, el propio edificio parece un habitante, una intrusión del hombre en la naturaleza, lo que podemos intuir debido a la presencia de los árboles dominantes en el fondo; estos convierten la obra en un paisaje urbano que incorpora elementos naturales más que en el típico paisaje de ciudad. 

Kim Conaty: New York Movie es una de las composiciones más radicales de Hopper. Lo notable de esta pintura es que, casi en el medio de la composición, hay una pared que parece dividir el espacio a la mitad. Como si el artista hubiese decidido que, en lugar de crear una sola escena en la pintura, ofrecería múltiples áreas de visualización. En general, las pinturas tienen una parte central para que el ojo del espectador descanse, pero en este caso eso es prácticamente imposible.

Melinda Lang: El teatro era una de las temáticas predilectas de Hopper, y representó distintos teatros y visitas a estos a lo largo de toda su carrera. También era un medio de escape. 

Hopper comenzó a trabajar en New York Movie en diciembre de 1938. Adoptó el hábito de entrar a los teatros por la mañana y hacer bocetos de distintos elementos, desde la arquitectura hasta la pantalla, las escaleras y las filas de asientos vacíos. Y luego, por la tarde, pintaba en su estudio. 

Para su rutina de hacer bocetos en los teatros, Hopper trabajaba en hojas de dibujo pequeñas que podía llevar consigo en el tren o en sus caminatas, y que luego volvía a llevar al teatro. En los dibujos cercanos, verá que Hopper anotaba los nombres de los teatros en las hojas: el Globe, el Strand, el Republic y el Palace.

Kim Conaty: Con los teatros en particular, me pregunto si se dispuso a encontrar el teatro perfecto que fuera el sujeto y el espectáculo de esta pintura. Pero también parece algo característico de Hopper: para crear un teatro que represente un tipo de teatro y que tenga un estilo más universal, reúne elementos de muchos teatros y no solo de uno. De hecho, esto posibilita que la composición tenga más que ver con una respuesta a la pregunta: ¿Qué se siente estar en un teatro de Nueva York? ¿Qué se siente ir a un cine de Nueva York?

Narrator: En esta presentación de diapositivas, vemos algunas escenas y decorados de escenarios de obras a las que Hopper asistió con su esposa, Josephine Nivison Hopper, y los teatros que frecuentaban. Hemos podido averiguar qué obras vieron porque el Archivo Sanborn Hopper incluye cientos de entradas que guardaron, lo que documenta las obras que vieron. 

David Crane: El teatro encarnaba una parte importante de su rutina: si no iban todos los días, lo hacían prácticamente todas las semanas. 

Narrator: Josephine, a quien todos conocían como Jo, había actuado en algunas producciones con los Washington Square Players antes de casarse con Hopper. Siguieron asistiendo a estas presentaciones de vanguardia y también veían las obras populares en Broadway. David Crane fue becario de curaduría en el Whitney y contribuyó al catálogo de la exposición. 

David Crane: La visión de Hopper sobre el escenario y su interacción frecuente con las producciones teatrales enmarcaban su manera de percibir Nueva York y el modo en que él mismo enmarcaba y daba forma a sus propias composiciones. 

Por ejemplo, la escenografía se considera no solo un fondo o un escenario donde podría desarrollarse el drama, sino que es una parte estructural de cualquiera de estas producciones que estaban viendo. Eran verdaderos conocedores y estaban atentos a los cambios en el diseño, en la iluminación e incluso en esos elementos que pueden fusionarse en la producción y que quizás la audiencia en general vea como un todo; pero para ellos, cada una de estas cosas significaba oficios específicos y decisiones artísticas específicas.

Narrator: En esta habitación, también encontrará una selección de entradas de unas sesenta obras, lo que es una clara evidencia del gran apetito teatral de los Hopper. El nombre del teatro y el precio aparecen en el frente de la entrada, y los Hopper escribían el nombre de la obra en el dorso. Además, las entradas nos dan indicios de sus preferencias en cuanto a los asientos. En general, elegían sentarse en el balcón o ver la obra desde una perspectiva incluso más elevada, en el segundo balcón.

David Crane: Creo que esto se refleja claramente en buena parte de las pinturas de Nueva York que hizo Hopper. En muchas de ellas, tenemos esta suerte de vista elevada en la que el espectador mira ligeramente hacia abajo, casi como si estuviésemos en la ventana de un primer o segundo piso mirando hacia la calle, o quizás hacia el edificio de al lado. Esto crea la sensación de que somos espectadores viviendo en la ciudad; la idea de que estamos viendo la vida que nos rodea mientras esta suerte de producción teatral cobra vida.

Kambui Olujimi: En la obra Two Comedians de Hopper, encontramos a estas dos figuras que no parecen para nada graciosas, sino más bien futuristas. 

Narrator: Artista Kambui Olujimi.

Kambui Olujimi: Como si vinieran de una época en la que aquí es donde vive la comedia. Es una de las últimas pinturas que hizo. Una suerte de cierre de la vida. 

La perspectiva me resulta un poco extraña, ya que como espectadores nos situamos en primera fila, en uno de los asientos centrales, y Hopper —o más bien, las figuras— están a punto de dar su saludo final, pero el modo en que el plano principal se disuelve me recuerda a la arena, casi como si fuera un paisaje. Y de nuevo Hopper hace esto de darnos justo lo suficiente como para que no creamos… casi como un mago, ¿cierto? Es decir, vemos lo suficiente del escenario como para decir que lo es, pero no lo siento como si fuera un escenario. Y vemos lo suficiente de lo que, en mi opinión, es una cortina como para decir “sí, es una cortina”, pero en realidad se parece más a un campo en el que el verde se torna más oscuro, luego se vuelve un azul marino y, por último, un negro de medianoche. 

Así que hay muchos engaños aquí.

Jane Dickson: Estamos afuera viendo por una ventana, algo muy común para todos los neoyorquinos; mirar al otro lado de la calle y ver las ventanas de otras personas.

Narrator: Artista Jane Dickson.

Jane Dickson: Pero hay algo que Hopper usa mucho, y que yo también he utilizado, que es crear una especie de proscenio para lo que está sucediendo en la ventana al otro lado de la calle.

En Room in New York, vemos a una pareja de noche, sentada bajo una luz potente. Ambos están leyendo. No se miran el uno al otro. Están cada uno en su propio mundo. La luz que los ilumina desde arriba es muy intensa. Él está sentado en un sofá rojo. Ella usa un vestido del mismo color, y ambos tienen una pared verde detrás. Son colores complementarios, lo que siempre hace que nos “rechinen los dientes”. No está sucediendo nada; sin embargo, la habitación está cargada de tensión. Creo que esta cualidad es emblemática en muchas de las obras de Hopper.

A nivel estructural, quiero destacar que en esta obra, al igual que en todos sus otros trabajos, Hopper hace un muy buen uso de las sombras y las composiciones diagonales para guiar al espectador por la imagen y aumentar la tensión dramática. En este caso una mesa separa a la pareja, pero también tenemos una puerta en el fondo de la imagen, que es como un gran bloque de madera. Si bien está en el fondo detrás de ellos, es como si los separara por completo.

Narrator: En una ocasión, Hopper dijo que Early Sunday Morning era “una traducción casi literal de la Séptima Avenida”. Pero la pintura es más compleja de lo que sugiere esa descripción.

Andrew Berman: Por una parte, podemos percibir una vista increíblemente íntima de esta fila de tiendas en tonos apagados con lo que parecen ser residencias sobre ellas.

Narrator: Andrew Berman es director ejecutivo de la Greenwich Village Society for Historical Preservation. 

Andrew Berman: Pero vemos algunos indicios de la ciudad más grande que rodea la escena, que parece estar asomándose desde los bordes del marco de la pintura —en especial del lado derecho—; el edificio más grande que se erige formidable en lo alto podría indicar, en muchos sentidos, la suerte de escala vertical invasora de la ciudad.

Creo que la elección de representar la escena con estas primeras luces del día le añade una cierta desolación a la imagen; es imposible verla y no decir “¿qué pasará con estas tiendas?”. Al igual que sucede en muchas de las pinturas de Hopper: uno las mira y dice “¿qué pasará con esta persona?”. Hay algo que tiene que ver con que captamos a las personas en un momento, pero también percibimos una sensación del cambio que precedió a la imagen y de otro cambio inminente. Y siento que la obra es un ejemplo claro de esto, en especial en relación con el desarrollo de Nueva York en la década de 1930; el enorme impulso de la década de 1920 estaba en su pico más alto, por lo que gran parte de lo que fueron los inicios de Nueva York estaba cambiando o desapareciendo.

Narrator: En Apartment Houses, East River, Hopper pintó un complejo de viviendas basado en sus bocetos de algunos edificios de este tipo que se encontraban cerca del puente Macombs Dam, en el Bronx. Estos complejos eran parte de una tendencia en el desarrollo urbanístico que era nueva en ese entonces y que reemplazaría las amontonadas casas de vecindad.  

Andrew Berman: La idea era construir estos edificios más grandes y altos que abrieran el espacio para que todos pudiesen compartir o disfrutar un entorno con más luz, más aire, etc.; era más económico.

Narrator: Andrew Berman es director ejecutivo de la Greenwich Village Society for Historical Preservation. 

Andrew Berman: Era más o menos el comienzo de lo que se vio durante todo el siglo XX, una especie de paradigma de la torre en el parque; imagino que Hopper hubiese tenido sentimientos encontrados al respecto. Por un lado, son —técnicamente— un lugar mejor. Pero, especialmente al ser nuevos y construirse en mayor escala, me imagino que podrían haber parecido algo intimidantes e inhumanos.

Narrator: En esta obra, Hopper nos muestra a una mujer en un automat, un restaurante de comida rápida donde la comida se sirve con máquinas expendedoras. Las luces que se reflejan en la ventana parecen apuntar directamente hacia ella, como también lo hace la sombra del radiador que está en el suelo, a la izquierda. Al enfocar la composición alrededor de la mujer de este modo, es posible que Hopper esté destacando el hecho de que es la única persona en el lugar. Pero ¿tiene una actitud de soledad contemplativa? ¿O de aislamiento? Hopper lo deja a criterio del espectador. 

El artista Kambui Olujimi ha señalado que, al parecer, Hopper está enfocado tanto en las luces como en la mujer. 

Kambui Olujimi: La luz funciona como un personaje. Diría que anima la imagen… No pensaba lo mismo cuando vi la obra por primera vez, pero me he dado cuenta de que anima un espacio que, de otro modo, no sería para nada seductor. Hopper le da mucho lugar a la luz para que participe, para que sea un personaje, para que tenga autonomía, para que atraiga al espectador y para describir y ocultar el espacio que estamos viendo.

Jane Dickson: New York Interior, del año 1921, es algo inusual para Hopper en términos de composición, ya que es completamente... Está centrada y tiene una perspectiva frontal, no desde las diagonales. 

Narrator: Artista Jane Dickson.

Jane Dickson: Justo en el centro de la composición, vemos estos hombros y esta espalda un tanto musculosos. La figura lleva puesto un vestido sin tirantes y está cosiendo. En mi opinión, parece una bailarina con algunos años. 

Al frente, se ve una pila de tela. Hay una manta roja y algo de color negro. Ni siquiera podemos ver qué es. 

Narrator: Pareciera que el artista está mirando por la ventana.

Jane Dickson: Hay negro a ambos lados, lo que hace que la modelo quede centrada en la composición. Y después están estos montículos de tela entre nosotros —los espectadores— y ella. Tiene muchos obstáculos, y ella está en su propio mundo de fantasía. 

Es como si estuviese imaginando una vida que quizás ya vivió. Y, si se mira atentamente, la mano que está jalando del hilo apunta hacia un reloj en la repisa de la chimenea, un símbolo medieval del paso del tiempo.

Narrator: El artista Kambui Olujimi responde a la pintura de Hopper del puente de Queensboro que realizó en 1913.

Kambui Olujimi: Lo que más me cautiva de esta obra es la manera en que el puente desaparece, el modo en que el propio puente está articulado y después se pierde en la distancia. El grado de detalle o de soltura que aplica para representar el puente hace que parezca que está alejándose. En la mayoría de las representaciones que he visto de Hopper, las construcciones arquitectónicas y los entornos edificados tienen una especie de fidelidad. Y siento que esta obra en particular es mucho más lírica, mucho más extravagante.

Narrator: Hopper creó esta pintura unos años después de su último viaje a París en 1910, y el uso del estilo libre es un fiel reflejo de su tiempo allí. Por otra parte, es posible que su abordaje de la temática desafíe algunas suposiciones sobre Nueva York.

Kambui Olujimi: Con el puente de Queensboro también existe una jerarquía. Es decir, yo soy de Brooklyn, y todos los neoyorquinos sabemos que hay una jerarquía en cuanto a los puentes. En la ciudad, el rey de los puentes es el puente de Brooklyn. En el caso del puente de Queensboro, se puede decir que no es uno de los que ocupan los primeros puestos. Es como si estuviera viendo a la persona que está sentada sola en un rincón de la fiesta, y tomándose el tiempo para involucrarse.

Narrator: Hopper creó esta pintura durante los meses que vivió en París, en 1907.

Kim Conaty: La paleta es muy suave y tenue, y recuerda al impresionismo tanto en el estilo como en las pinceladas. Esta pintura representa lo que conocemos como el Puente de las Artes en París, que se encuentra sobre el Sena, entre la orilla izquierda del río y el Museo del Louvre. Antes de ir a París, su paleta era mucho más terrosa; incluía más marrones, era mucho más oscura y tenía menos luminosidad. Algo que claramente adoptó en París fue este nuevo enfoque e interés por la luz. 

Narrator: Hopper admiraba a los impresionistas como Edgar Degas. Pero al parecer no tuvo contacto con artistas modernos como Pablo Picasso y Henri Matisse, que recién estaban comenzando a ganar notoriedad. Y las cartas que escribía a casa dejan en claro que, si bien asistió a exposiciones importantes de pintores posimpresionistas como Paul Cézanne, no le resultaban tan interesantes, a pesar de que estos se consideraban muy influyentes para los artistas parisinos jóvenes.

Kim Conaty: Lo que sí le resultó fascinante durante el tiempo que vivió en París fue la ciudad en sí. Las vistas desde la puerta de su vivienda. La forma en que el paisaje natural y el entorno edificado se interconectaban en un espacio urbano.

Narrator: Aquí, puede encontrar algunos ejemplos de las distintas publicidades que diseñó Hopper. Kim Conaty, la curadora de la exposición, habla sobre el enfoque con el que Hopper abordaba estas publicidades.

Kim Conaty: Al parecer, podía desarrollar personajes que no eran específicos; una escena en particular podía hablarle a muchas personas distintas y no solo a una audiencia en particular. Ese tipo de apertura y ese uso de las tipologías son de vital importancia para la industria de la publicidad, ya que permiten crear campañas dirigidas a grandes cantidades de personas.

Por supuesto que los personajes de Hopper tienen una relación estrecha con las poblaciones específicas a las que estaban dirigidas las revistas que ilustraba en ese momento (en su mayoría, hombres de negocios blancos). Aquí, podemos ver una publicidad de tirantes. Muchas de sus publicidades estaban vinculadas a una clase específica de atuendo de trabajo de oficina. Y este es el tipo de atuendo que encontramos en pinturas posteriores de escenas de oficina.

Melinda Lang: Estos dibujos son algunos ejemplos de los primeros estudios de Hopper en el campo de la ilustración o trabajos específicos que hacía para su portafolio.

Narrator: Melinda Lang es asistente jefe de curaduría en el Whitney y ayudó a organizar esta exposición. 

Melinda Lang: Solía llevar esas obras a las oficinas de distintas editoriales y revistas de toda la ciudad cuando buscaba encargos. Hopper surgió como ilustrador durante el auge de las revistas, a comienzos del siglo XX. En ese momento, la ilustración estaba atravesando un período que conocemos como su “edad dorada”. Hopper estudió ilustración en la New York School of Illustration y tenía un serio compromiso con la ilustración como profesión. Pero al principio, cuando comenzó a interesarse por la pintura, era más un trabajo de día, una actividad independiente que le ayudaba a pagar las cuentas y con la que podía financiar sus viajes a París entre 1906 y 1910.

Narrator: Incluso en estos trabajos comerciales, ya podemos ver indicios de la magnitud que alcanzaría Hopper como artista.

Melinda Lang: Hopper dibujaba a partir de las imágenes que lo rodeaban, como también hizo más adelante. Podemos apreciar la arquitectura que veía desde la calle, el teatro (solía ir al teatro cuando era estudiante, y sus maestros lo animaban a representar esos sujetos que tenía enfrente). De manera que, en todos estos dibujos, los sujetos que elige son temas que tiene a su alrededor en la ciudad de Nueva York. 

En Boy and Moon, puede que Hopper haya reflexionado a un nivel más personal sobre su habitación de la infancia. La cama y el niño que mira por la ventana tienen una relación similar con su propia habitación de la infancia en Nyack, Nueva York.

Kim Conaty: Hola. Me llamo Kim Conaty. Soy curadora de Dibujos e Impresiones de la colección Steven and Ann Ames en el Whitney Museum. También soy curadora de Edward Hopper's New York. Le damos la bienvenida a esta exposición que recorre la relación de Hopper con la ciudad de Nueva York, la cual fue evolucionando durante toda la vida del artista, comenzando con su niñez en la villa de Nyack, a unas treinta millas al norte de la ciudad.

Narrator: Hopper estudió ilustración en Nueva York cuando era joven y continuó viviendo en la ciudad durante casi seis décadas. Esta área de ingreso nos ofrece una perspectiva sobre la ciudad que llegó a amar durante ese tiempo: una vista desde el tren elevado. 

Kim Conaty: Estos trenes, conocidos como trenes “el”, permitían trasladarse por la ciudad, algo similar a lo que ocurre hoy en día cuando caminamos por el Highline, ligeramente sobre el nivel de la calle. Y por supuesto que esto traía consigo la posibilidad de tener una vista privilegiada de la vida en la ciudad; no solo el ajetreo de los peatones en la calle y las vidrieras de los negocios que nos saludan al pasar, sino también ver las ventanas de las personas y las oficinas durante el trayecto. 

Narrator: Como verá a medida que recorra la exposición, Hopper suele adoptar una perspectiva como la que podía encontrar en ese tren: como espectador ajeno a la escena, ligeramente elevado en relación con esta, como si fuera una suerte de escenario de teatro. La pintura que está cerca de la pantalla de proyección es un excelente ejemplo de este punto de vista. Se llama New York Pavements.

A lo largo de esta exposición, también verá cartas, cuadernos y otros retazos de la vida diaria del artista que nos permiten entender un poco más la Nueva York de Hopper.

Kim Conaty: Una de las cosas más emocionantes y verdaderamente reveladoras de la investigación que hicimos para esta exposición fue tener la oportunidad de sumergirnos en el Archivo Sanborn Hopper del Whitney, que incluye casi 4,000 artículos de Hopper, incluidas cartas, ilustraciones y publicidades que hizo en los inicios de su carrera. Incluso están las entradas que él y su esposa Josephine Nivison Hopper guardaron de todas las veces que frecuentaron los teatros de Nueva York. Este material nos ha permitido ver más de cerca la vida de los Hopper en Nueva York.

Melinda Lang: Bridle Path is one of Hopper's most unusual paintings. In this work, he chooses to capture the pathway through Central Park that is used by equestrians for horseback riding.

Narrator: Senior Curatorial Assistant Melinda Lang.

Melinda Lang: When Hopper set out to make this painting, he made several trips to Central Park to this particular site. He would return day after day to collect more information. He was very set on capturing the rock formations that you see here, the pastoral landscape set within this urban metropolis. And while making sketches for this painting, he observed the people on horseback, but did not actually depict the riders in his studies. 

Narrator: In a drawing nearby, you can see the street lamp that he had originally positioned where the horseback riders ended up. 

Melinda Lang: While working on this painting in the studio, he actually flipped through photographs of horses in magazines and then used a book on horse anatomy as source material. I think the awkwardness of the movement here actually makes the painting more interesting in a way, because it shows you how amazing, how much of an expert he was at depicting the rock formations and the surrounding trees and the dirt and the architecture, which almost are more alive than the figures.

Farris Wabeh: The “Notes on Painting” is his personal notebook where he would write his thoughts on art and philosophy. 

Narrator: Farris Wabeh is Benjamin and Irma Weiss Director of Research Resources at the Whitney.

Farris Wabeh: In the public imagination, Edward Hopper is known as a reticent artist, really not vocal in terms of what his thoughts were. He always said that the painting speaks for itself. 

But I think what the archives suggest is something that was a lot different. He was very conscious of how he presented himself to the public, even if it was in a manner that was very shortened and very curt. That I think was a persona that he cultivated. And I think it was very calculating, very much like his paintings, I mean everything was done in a very self-conscious and structured way. In fact, in the Notes on Painting, there's a quote that says “self-conscious Americanism,” which I think is really an interesting thing to think about with Hopper, that self-conscious Americanism where you're thinking about how you are portrayed and who you are and how you can construct that. 

The quote before that in the notebook starts as: “the dreamer and mystic must create a reality that you could walk around in, exist, and breathe in,” which I think is really interesting because he's such an American pragmatist. To think about mystics and seers, even within this notebook on painting, really shows him thinking in ways that he would never express in public. 

Kirsty Bell: This painting is Morning Sun from 1952, and it's actually unusual in Hopper's interiors in that it's based on a real interior, on his own interior. 

Usually in Hopper's paintings, the interiors are kind of imagined architectures, but we know this is based on his interior space.

Narrator: Kirsty Bell.

Kirsty Bell: So the other interesting point in relation to that is that he shared his studio with his wife, Jo, and that she was also the model for all of the female figures in all of his paintings since they married in 1924. So, this went on for decades and decades. In this piece, in fact, she was sixty-eight years old when she modeled for this painting. 

Though Jo and Edward had a kind of notoriously fraught and difficult relationship—they were well known for their arguments and just had such different personalities. But I think that the one thing that did bind them together was the role that Jo played in his works. And she had in her youth studied theater. She was always very interested in drama, and I think that this role that she had of modeling for the figures in his paintings gave her an opportunity to revisit that.

Narrator: Kambui Olujimi has explained that one of the things he finds most interesting in Hopper’s work is figures—like the office worker you see here—who turn away from the viewer. 

Kambui Olujimi: I'm interested in figures that have their own interiority. And often you'll see that where they're occupied or engaged in the world, not in the world of the viewer, in their world. You know, whether it's looking out a window or engaging with another character subject in the painting, there's a way in which, and perhaps it's voyeuristic, but it seals and actually gives cohesion to that alternate space. 

So in Office in a Small City, you have this businessman that is like looking almost into the rapture with this light that comes down, this long twilight, which is another classic Hopper, you know, these diagonal lights as the sun drifts away.

Something that I find very interesting with this twilight play or this long light that you see in many Hopper works is it describes the city, the geography and the bounds of New York City as a place that is perpetually in flux. That is, if you look at it, it's already changed. And the paintings are an attempt to both slow that, or capture that in an instant. But to also acknowledge that this won't be here in your next breath, it's going to be something else.

Narrator: This case documents Jo and Edward Hopper’s neighborhood advocacy. In 1946, New York University became the owner of the building that housed their home and studio. A year later, the university began a process to try to evict the building’s tenants.

Jennie Goldstein: And the Hoppers go into full fight mode. 

Narrator: Jennie Goldstein is an Assistant Curator at the Whitney. 

Jennie Goldstein: They join up with other neighbors to try and raise awareness of what's happening to their and other properties on Washington Square North. So these are artists, individuals, writers, designers, all kinds of creatives who are concerned that they'll never be able to find affordable housing at this time of incredible population boom. So they use both their personal concern, their real legitimate fear that they're gonna lose their home/work space, but they also see it as part of a larger urban planning problem. In other words, they see NYU as having this kind of grand plan that a public park, Washington Square Park, will essentially become a kind of de facto private park.

And one of the things that the Hoppers decide to do is to reach out to Robert Moses, the Parks Commissioner. They felt that if they could alert Commissioner Moses to what they saw as this kind of nefarious scheme to take over a public park by a private university, that they may get more government support for their cause, but Robert Moses didn't see it that way at all. Moses thought this was not a public matter, that there was nothing a public official could do to weigh in on what was essentially a private matter. So their attempt, Jo and Edward Hopper's attempt to find high level support from a really famous political figure, did not work, but NYU's attempt to evict the tenants didn't work either.

Narrator: These watercolors depict rooftops around Washington Square Park. Hopper had moved his home and studio to 3 Washington Square North in 1913. In 1932, he and his wife Josephine Nivison Hopper moved to a different unit in the same building. The apartment was not large, but it had expansive views of the park and the surrounding buildings, which became a frequent subject for the artist.

Kirsty Bell: Edward Hopper was always attracted to roofs and particularly the roofs that he could see from the studio he was working in.

Narrator: Kirsty Bell is a writer and critic. 

Kirsty Bell: It seems like these city roofs, these more kind of clandestine areas that aren't part of the known cityscape made something more intimate available to Hopper. They're more intimate portraits of these aspects of architecture that are not meant to be visible. The skylights and chimneys, and there's something kind of melancholy, but also maybe tender about the way he's approaching this material. 

Narrator: In descriptions of Hopper’s work, critics have tended to use the word “alienation” a lot. Artist Eddie Arroyo has explained that he sees this painting differently. 

Eddie Arroyo: I like that some of the lights and the windows are on, some of them are off, so it's like this quiet moment. The palette is beautiful in terms of the muted aspect of it. And this meditative aspect of it, more about just taking a moment and really being comfortable with the space that the figure's in right now. 

The focal point is the figure in solitude and that it sits below this very balanced, natural landscape. In this particular painting, in my opinion, it's more about focusing on the importance of nature over the colonization or the development of the land in general.

Narrator: One of the things that is so striking about this painting is the way Hopper gives us such a partial, fragmentary view of a building that suggests the presence of many inhabitants but shows us only one. The apartment house itself also feels like it’s an inhabitant, a human intrusion into nature, suggested by the trees that dominate the background and turn this into an urban landscape rather than a traditional cityscape. 

Kim Conaty: New York Movie is one of Hopper's most radical compositions. It's remarkable to have a painting where nearly down the middle is a wall that seems to almost slice the space in half. It's as if he's decided, rather than to create one scene in the painting, to give us multiple areas of view. Oftentimes in a painting there will be a central place for a viewer's eye to rest, and here it is nearly impossible.

Melinda Lang: The theater was a favorite subject of Hopper's and he depicted theaters and theater going throughout his career. It was also a form of escape. 

He started going on this routine where he would pop into theaters in the mornings, sketch different elements from the architecture to the screen, to the staircase and the empty rows of seats. And then in the afternoons, he would paint in his studio. 

During Hopper's routine of sketching in theaters, he would work on small sketchbook sheets, which he could take with him on the train or on his walks and then bring back with him to the theater. In the drawings nearby you’ll see that Hopper inscribed the names of the theaters on the sheets themselves: The Globe, The Strand, The Republic and The Palace.

Kim Conaty: With the theaters in particular, I do wonder if he set out to find the one perfect theater that would be the subject and the site of this painting. But it also feels in keeping with Hopper, that in order to create a theater that would represent a type of theater and that would speak in more universal terms, that to be able to bring in elements of many and thus not simply one—in fact actually opens this up to a composition that could be more about what does a New York theater feel like? 

Narrator: In this slideshow, we see scenes and stage sets from plays that Hopper attended with his wife, Josephine Nivison Hopper, and the theaters they frequented. We have been able to find out which plays they saw because the Sanborn Hopper Archive includes hundreds of ticket stubs that they saved, documenting the performances they’d seen. 

David Crane: The theater was a living, breathing part of their routine, if not every day, close to every week. 

Narrator: Josephine, who was known as Jo, had acted in productions with the Washington Square Players before she and Hopper were married. They continued going to these more avant-garde performances, and also attended popular plays on Broadway. David Crane was a Curatorial Fellow at the Whitney, and contributed to the exhibition catalogue. 

David Crane: Hopper's view of the stage and his frequent interaction with seeing theater productions framed how he saw New York and how he framed and shaped his own compositions. Set design, to take one example, is seen not merely as a kind of backdrop or not merely as a setting on which the drama could unfold, but a structuring part of any of these productions that they were seeing. They would be connoisseurs and attentive to changes in design or changes in lighting or how those kinds of things that may coalesce into the production as a whole for the audience maybe in general—but for them could speak to specific craft, specific artistic decisions.

Narrator: In this room you’ll also find a selection of the ticket stubs from about sixty performances that give evidence of the Hopper’s theater habits. The theater and the price appear on the front; the Hoppers also wrote the names of the show on the back. The stubs also tell us about their seat preferences. In general, they chose to sit in the balcony, or to view the play from an even higher perspective in the second balcony.

David Crane: I believe that that really is reflected in many of Hopper's paintings of New York. Many of them, you get this kind of slightly elevated view. That creates this sense of spectatorship in living in the city that you are kind of seeing life around you as this kind of stage production comes to life.

Kambui Olujimi: In Hopper's work Two Comedians, you have these two figures that don't really seem hilarious at all, but they feel really futuristic. 

Narrator: Artist Kambui Olujimi.

Kambui Olujimi: Like they come from a time where this is where comedy lives. It's one of the last paintings that he made. It's that kind of closing out of life. 

The perspective is a little odd to me in that we are front and center, front row, and Hopper is, or the figure is planning to take a final bow, but there's a way in which the foreground dissolves and almost feels like sand to me, it almost feels like a landscape. And he still does the Hopper thing where he gives you just enough to not believe, almost like a magician. Like there's enough of the stage to say it's a stage, but it doesn't feel like a stage to me. And you know, enough of what I would think is a curtain to say, yeah, that's a curtain, but it feels more like a field, you know, where the green goes into a deeper green, into a navy into a midnight. 

So there's a lot of trickery here.

Jane Dickson: We're outside looking in the window, which is a very common thing for all New Yorkers to be looking across the street and see in other people's windows.

Narrator: Artist Jane Dickson.

Jane Dickson: But it's something that Hopper really used, and I've used it also, myself, to make a sort of proscenium stage for the action that's happening in the window across the street.

Room in New York is a couple at night, sitting under harsh light. They're both reading. They're not facing each other. They're each in their own world. The light is very harsh overhead. He's sitting in a red chair. She's wearing a red dress, and they're against a green wall. So those are complementary colors, which always sort of set our teeth on edge. So there's nothing happening, and yet it's very tense in this room. And I feel like this is emblematic of a lot of Hopper's work.

Structurally, I just want to point out that in this piece, as well as all of Hopper's work, he's really using shadows and diagonal compositions to lead you through this image and to heighten the dramatic tension. So in this one, there's a table between this couple, but then there's also this door in the background that's like a big wooden slab. It's like it's in the background behind them, but it completely divides them from each other.

Narrator: Hopper once said that Early Sunday Morning was “an almost literal translation of Seventh Avenue.” But the painting is more complex than that description might suggest.

Andrew Berman: On the one hand you have this incredibly intimate view of this diminutively scaled row of stores with what seemed to be residences above them.

Narrator: Andrew Berman is Executive Director of the Greenwich Village Society for Historical Preservation. 

Andrew Berman: But you have hints of the sort of bigger city around it, that kind of peek in from the edges of the frame of the picture, most notably on the right hand side, the larger building that looms overhead, which, in a lot of ways seems to be indicative of the sort of encroaching vertical scale of the city.

The choice of it being in this kind of early morning light, I think adds a forlornness to the image, where you can't help but look at it and say, “What's going to happen to these?” Much as in many of Hopper's paintings, you look at it and you say, “What's gonna become of this person?” There's something about how you've captured them in a moment in time, but you feel a sense of the change that preceded the image and the impending change. And I feel that this really captures that in a very specific way, particularly relating to how New York was developing around 1930, the enormous boom of the 1920s was cresting, and so much of early New York was really changing or disappearing at this time.

Narrator: In Apartment Houses, East River, Hopper painted a housing complex based on some that he had sketched near the Macombs Dam Bridge in the Bronx. These complexes were part of a trend in urban development that was new at the time, a replacement for cramped tenement housing.  

Andrew Berman: The idea being you build these big taller buildings. That opens up more space that everybody can sort of share or enjoy with more light, more air, et cetera. It's cheaper.

Narrator: Andrew Berman is Executive Director of the Greenwich Village Society for Historical Preservation. 

Andrew Berman: It really was kind of the beginning of what you saw then throughout the twentieth century, which was the sort of paradigm of the tower in the park, which, you know, I could imagine that Hopper would have mixed feelings about. You know, on the one hand, sort of on paper, it's a better place. But especially when new, at this sort of larger scale, I would imagine that it would seem sort of somewhat intimidating and inhuman.

Narrator: Here, Hopper shows us a woman in an automat—a fast food restaurant where the food is served by a vending machine. The lights reflected in the window seem to point straight at her—and so does the shadow of the radiator on the floor to the left. By focusing the composition on the woman in this way, Hopper seems to underscore the fact that she’s the only person present. But is the mood one of contemplative solitude? Or alienation? He leaves it up to the viewer. 

Artist Kambui Olujimi has pointed out that Hopper seems as focused on the light as he is on the woman. 

Kambui Olujimi: The light is operating as a character. And I would say it animates a space that wouldn't be nearly as seductive. And so the light, he makes a lot of room for the light to play, for the light to be a character and to have its own autonomy and bring you in and describe and conceal the space that we're looking at.

Jane Dickson: New York Interior, 1921, is somewhat unusual for Hopper compositionally in that it's absolutely centered, and it's one-point perspective as opposed to diagonals. 

Narrator: Artist Jane Dickson.

Jane Dickson: So right in the center of the composition, we see the somewhat muscle-y shoulders and back. She's wearing a strapless dress, and she's sewing. And to me, she looks like an aging ballerina. 

Narrator: He seems to be looking through a window.

Jane Dickson: You see black on either side, which really sort of locks her in there. And then there's these hillocks of fabric that are between us, the viewer, and her. So there's many obstacles to her, and she's in her own fantasy world. 

So it's like, she's imagining a life that maybe she's already passed. And if you notice, her hand that's up pulling the thread is pointing to a clock on the mantelpiece, which is a medieval symbol for time passing.

Narrator: Artist Kambui Olujimi responds to Hopper’s 1913 painting of the Queensborough Bridge.

Kambui Olujimi: What I'm most taken by is the way the bridge vanishes, the way the bridge itself is articulated and then breaks up in the distance. The detail or looseness with which he renders the bridge almost looks like it's running away. Most of the renderings that I see from Hopper, architectural and built environments have a sort of fidelity. And I feel like this one is one that is much more lyrical, much more kind of whimsy.

Narrator: Hopper made this painting a few years after his final trip to Paris in 1910, and his loose style here reflects his time there. Meanwhile, his approach to the subject matter might challenge some assumptions about New York.

Kambui Olujimi: With the Queensboro Bridge, there's a hierarchy. Like I'm from Brooklyn, there's a hierarchy of bridges, you know, all New Yorkers kind of know the truth. The Brooklyn Bridge is the king of bridges in this city. To pick the Queensboro Bridge, you know, it's not a major player in the hierarchy. It's almost like he's looking at the person in a corner in a party that's just sitting all by themselves and taking that time to engage.

Narrator: Hopper made this painting while living in Paris for several months in 1907.

Kim Conaty: The palette is very soft, light, very impressionist in style, in brushstroke. This painting depicts what is known as the Bridge of the Arts in Paris crossing the Seine between the Left Bank and the Musée du Louvre. Before he goes to Paris, the palette is a much kind of earthier palette, more browns, much darker, less luminosity. And one thing that he did clearly pick up in Paris was a new approach and interest in light. 

Narrator: Hopper admired Impressionists like Edgar Degas. But he seems to have had no contact with modern artists like Pablo Picasso and Henri Matisse, who were just beginning to gain notoriety. And his letters home make clear that although he saw some important exhibitions featuring Post-Impressionists like Paul Cézanne, they didn’t pique his interest—even though they were at the height of their influence on younger Parisian artists.

Kim Conaty: What he found instead fascinating during his time in Paris was the city itself. It was the views just outside of his door. It was the way that the natural landscape and the built environment intersected in an urban space.

Narrator: In this case, you’ll find Hopper’s proofs from several of the published advertisements he designed. Kim Conaty, the exhibition’s curator, talks about Hopper’s approach to these ads.

Kim Conaty: It appears that he was able to develop types that were not specific in the way that a particular scene might speak to many different people rather than to be a very specific place. And that kind of openness, that use of typologies is something that's so critical in the advertising industry in order to have campaigns that could be marketed to vast numbers of people.

Of course Hopper's types are very related to the specific populations that the magazines he was illustrating for were targeting at the time, namely white male businessmen. You'll see here an ad for suspenders. So, many of his ads were for a particular kind of white collar business attire. And this is the sort of attire that then you find in even later paintings of office scenes.

Melinda Lang: These drawings are all examples of Hopper's early studies in illustration or spec work that he would make for his portfolio.

Narrator: Melinda Lang is a Senior Curatorial Assistant at the Whitney, and helped organize this exhibition. 

Melinda Lang: And he’d bring those works to publishing and magazine offices around the city, when seeking out commissions. Hopper came of age as an illustrator during the early twentieth century magazine boom. At this time, illustration was going through what we call a "golden age.” Hopper studied illustration at the New York School of Illustration and had planned to become an illustrator in earnest. But early on, while he became interested in painting, it really was more of a day job, a freelance job that could help him pay the bills and also funded his trips to Paris between 1906 and 1910.

Narrator: Even in this commercial work, there are suggestions of the artist Hopper would become.

Melinda Lang: Hopper was drawing on images around him, just as he did later on. So looking at the architecture that he passed on the street, the theater—he was often attending the theater as a student. His teachers would encourage him to depict those kinds of subjects that he would see in front of him. So in all of these drawings, the subjects he is choosing are themes that are around him in New York City. 

Kim Conaty: Hi, my name is Kim Conaty. I'm the Steven and Ann Ames Curator of Drawings and Prints at the Whitney Museum. And I'm also the Curator of Edward Hopper's New York. We're thrilled to welcome you to this exhibition that looks at Hopper's relationship with the city of New York, which is one that really evolved throughout his lifetime beginning when he was a child growing up in Nyack, just about thirty miles north of the city.

Narrator: Hopper studied illustration in New York as a young man, and went on to live in the city for nearly six decades. This entry area features a perspective on the city that he came to love during that time—the view from the elevated train. 

Kim Conaty: And these “el” trains, as they were called, allowed people to move through the city, not dissimilar to the way that we see that we have the experience of walking along the High Line today, slightly above street level. And of course with that, the ability to get a sort of privileged view into city life, not just the bustle of passersby on the street and the shop windows that are there to greet you, but also to be able to look into people's windows, to look into offices along the way. 

Narrator: As you’ll see as you move through this exhibition, Hopper frequently adopts a perspective like the one he could find on the el: on the outside of a scene, often slightly elevated from it, as though it were a set where a bit of theater might unfold. The painting hanging near the projection screen is one great example of this point of view. It’s called New York Pavements.

Throughout this exhibition, you’ll also see letters, notebooks, and other bits of daily life that give us a new understanding of Hopper’s New York.

Kim Conaty: One of the most exciting and truly revelatory parts of the research for this exhibition was the opportunity that we had to dig into the Whitney's Sanborn Hopper archive, which comprises nearly 4,000 items of Hopper's, including correspondence, illustration and advertising work from early in his career. Through this material, we've been able to get a fuller picture of the Hoppers' lives in New York.

Art Spiegelman: Hopper's a regionalist and I've always liked the American regionalists like Reginald Marsh and Grant Wood. But the region that Hopper occupies is basically the desolate inner landscape of America.

And in Early Sunday Morning, I also was aware of how thoroughly related this is to my medium, comics. You know the word comics is kind of a misnomer and in Portuguese, I've discovered, they are called quadrenos, little boxes. And basically Hopper's a painter of little boxes. He takes his little box, he subdivides it into other boxes.

So I think of Early Sunday Morning as a comic strip before the Sunday sun comes up. The boxes before they're fully inhabited. Some people sleeping, some people just sort of brushing their teeth, at best. The stores not activated and therefore full of a kind of sad potential.

It looks like the barbershop pole is sort of already tipping its bulb to the little fire hydrant. It's kind of like the CP3O and R2D2 of 1930. This kind of mechanized urban, but very alive, possibly as least as alive as the people living behind those windows might be creatures.

And it kind of makes a mournful song, even though it's morning.

Narrator: All you’re looking at here is a block of brick storefronts with apartments above them. The title, Early Sunday Morning, may explain the emptiness of the street, but it can’t explain the emotional pull of the painting.

When Edward Hopper made this image in 1930, he based it on a real street he knew—Seventh Avenue South in Greenwich Village. But he’s made it look like any main street in any small town anywhere in America. Notice the storefront windows. They have lettering on them, yet Hopper doesn’t let you make out what the letters say. Hopper is an artist of universals, not particulars; he doesn’t want to be that specific.

Now look up at the windows on the second floor. Begin at the left. A yellow shade is drawn; another is half raised; further along, some of the windows are covered with darker window coverings; to the right, a few more have decorative curtains. Each is slightly different, hinting at a life being lived beyond our view. In this small detail, Hopper makes us acutely aware that the people are missing from the picture. As a result, the painting communicates a sense of loneliness.

At the upper right corner of the canvas, a small dark rectangle rises above the building—the suggestion of a skyscraper in the background. It doesn’t catch your eye at first, but once you notice it, the tall building changes the whole picture. A threat overshadows the otherwise quiet street. Sooner or later the juggernaut of commerce and technology will eradicate a small-town way of life.

Art Spiegelman: Siempre me han gustado los regionalistas estadounidenses como Reginald Marsh y Grant Wood. Pero la región que ocupa Hopper es, básicamente, el paisaje desolado del interior Estados Unidos.

En Early Sunday Morning, también tuve en cuenta la estrecha relación que esto mantiene con mi medio, el cómic. Como ustedes saben, la palabra cómic en cierto sentido es poco apropiada; he descubierto que, en portugués, se los llama quadrenos, o cajitas. Y Hopper es, básicamente, un pintor de cajitas. Toma su cajita y la subdivide en otras cajas.

Así que yo entiendo Early Sunday Morning como una tira cómica que plasma el momento anterior a que salga el sol el domingo. Las cajas anteriores están completamente habitadas. Algunos duermen, otros quizás se estén lavando los dientes, como mucho. Las tiendas no están activas todavía y, por lo tanto, rebosan de un potencial triste. 

Pareciera que el poste de la barbería ya está inclinándose hacia la pequeña boca de incendio. Ambos son como el CP3O y el R2D2 de los años treinta. Este tipo de urbanismo mecanizado pero, a la vez, lleno de vida; posiblemente, tan lleno de vida como la gente que vive detrás de esas ventanas, que podrían ser criaturas.

Y, de alguna manera, compone una canción triste, aun cuando es por la mañana.

Narrador: Artista y crítico de arte Brian O’Doherty.

Brian O’Doherty: Esta obra es New York Interior. Hopper tenía 39 años cuando la pintó, pero tuvo una vida larga y se inició en la pintura tardíamente, con determinación. Al igual que un corredor de maratones, Hopper regulaba su ritmo. Así, New York Interior demuestra lo que me dijo alguna vez: que cada artista tiene un núcleo de originalidad, un núcleo que es su verdadero ser. ¿Y cómo aflora eso en arte? Lo hace en forma de elementos. Se revela en las inquietudes, los temas y los detalles de las pinturas que realiza el artista, incluso de joven.

Narrador: En New York Interior, al igual que en otras obras que pintó a lo largo de su carrera, Hopper presenta detalles selectos, pero no revela a quién o qué ve el observador. 

Brian O’Doherty: Aun así, pareciera que la figura es la de una bailarina. Lleva un vestido con volantes. No obstante, al mirarla con detenimiento, descubro que está cosiendo algo en su regazo con una mano en el aire, como uno recuerda haber visto a la propia madre. Cose, y en la mano—si pudiéramos verla de cerca—quizá sostenga una aguja.

A la derecha hay un mueble característico de Hopper, con un reloj que es poco usual; la presencia del tiempo. A la izquierda aparece otra pintura. Al mirar estos elementos sé que son incidentales y que tendieron a desaparecer en su obra a medida que la visión del pintor adquirió mayor pureza. Un elemento que considero muy poderoso es esa vertical grande y negra que sostiene y contiene a la pieza, y que funciona como una especie de exclamación que ordena: "Miren esta pintura." 

Mark Joshua Epstein: Esta pintura se llama Early Sunday Morning y fue realizada por Edward Hopper. ¿Qué les llama la atención sobre ella?

Estudiante 1: Pareciera que todo está cerrado, todas las tiendas y las ventanas están cerradas y no se ve a nadie en la calle.

Estudiante 2: Yo creo también que realmente parece una mañana porque las sombras son alargadas.

Estudiante 1: Muestra la quietud de la mañana cuando acaba de salir el sol y todo el mundo está todavía en la cama.

Estudiante 2: Me preguntaba si… Creo que los letreros están borrosos a propósito para dejar que imaginemos qué tiendas serían. 

Mark Joshua Epstein:  Edward Hopper dijo que esta pintura estaba inspirada en una parte de la Séptima Avenida, que corre de norte a sur en Nueva York, y me pregunto: ¿alguno nota algo raro con respecto a las sombras?

Estudiante 1: Dado que el sol sale del este al oeste y que la calle corre de norte a sur, es algo raro porque pensaría que las sombras tendrían que estar horizontales y no verticales. 

Mark Joshua Epstein: ¿Alguno de ustedes cree posible que esta pintura sea el resultado de una combinación entre observación e imaginación?

Estudiante 2: Yo creo que sí porque las sombras no son muy realistas… La pintura es como realista pero algunas cosas son casi extrañas.

Mark Joshua Epstein: Ahora estamos aquí, frente a New York Interior del artista Edward Hopper.

Estudiante 1: Yo me he fijado que es una mujer con un vestido muy hermoso y elegante, pero tiene un aspecto deprimente por lo oscuro que es.

Estudiante 2: También tiene la mano levantada, me preguntaba por qué sería, y se está levantando el vestido, por lo que casi pareciera que lo está arreglando o algo así.

Estudiante 1: Veo que en la esquina superior derecha hay un reloj y pareciera que ambas manecillas apuntan a las doce, lo que muestra que podría ser por la noche bien tarde. 

Estudiante 2: Parece algo sola. Quizás se encontrara en una relación de algún tipo y decidieron separarse.

Mark Joshua Epstein:  Muchos historiadores piensan que Edward Hopper se inspiró para pintar esta escena en sus viajes en el El Train, que era un tren de Nueva York cuyas vías estaban elevadas, por lo que podía ver a través de las ventanas de la gente cuando viajaba en el tren.

Estudiante 1: Bueno, ahora que nos cuenta eso, he notado que los lados están cortados, así que parece una ventana.

Estudiante 2: Yo pensaba que, ya que él solo vio un instante de lo que estaba pasando, no es posible realmente describir la relevancia del momento, por lo que ella podría estar muy feliz en realidad. Porque, desde ese punto de vista, es imposible verle bien la cara realmente. 

Mark Joshua Epstein: Otra pregunta que tenía, solo para reflexionar sobre nuestra propia experiencia por un instante: si entraran al museo y vieran una pintura como esta, en la que se les viera a ustedes a través de la ventana de su apartamento, ¿cómo se sentirían?

Estudiante 1: Yo sentiría, de alguna manera, que por qué me están mirando y ¿qué tiene de interesante verme cosiendo mi vestido?

Estudiante 2: Opinión poco popular. Sería genial tener una pintura sobre mí realizada por un artista famoso. Me sorprendería un poco, pero también pensaría “¡qué genial!”.

Narrador: Todo lo que vemos aquí es una cuadra de frentes de ladrillo en la que hay tiendas a pie de calle y apartamentos en el primer piso. El título, Early Sunday Morning, podría explicar la calle vacía; sin embargo, no explica la tensión emocional que desprende la pintura. Observe más de cerca.

Cuando Edward Hopper creó esta imagen en 1930, se inspiró en una calle verdadera que conocía: la Séptima Avenida Sur de Greenwich Village. No obstante, le dio el aspecto que podría tener cualquier calle principal de cualquier pueblecito de cualquier rincón de los Estados Unidos. Fíjese en las vidrieras de las tiendas: tienen carteles. Sin embargo, Hopper no nos permite descifrar lo que dicen. Hopper es un artista de universales, no de particulares; no quiere ser específico.

Ahora fíjese en las ventanas del primer piso, comenzando por la izquierda. Una cortina amarilla está baja; otra, medio abierta; más hacia el centro, algunas de las ventanas están cubiertas con postigos más oscuros; a la derecha, otras más tienen cortinas decorativas. Cada ventana tiene algo ligeramente distinto y estas distinciones sugieren una vida que se desarrolla más allá de nuestro campo de visión. Con este pequeño detalle, Hopper nos hace muy conscientes de que no hay personas en la pintura y, como resultado, esta transmite una sensación de soledad.

En la parte superior derecha del lienzo, vemos un pequeño rectángulo oscuro que se eleva sobre el edificio: la sugerencia de un rascacielos en el fondo. En principio, no llama la atención, pero una vez que uno lo ve, el edificio alto cambia la escena por completo. Una amenaza ensombrece esta calle por lo demás tranquila. Tarde o temprano, el gigante que componen el comercio y la tecnología erradicará la forma de vida pueblerina.

Mark Joshua Epstein: This painting is called Early Sunday Morning and it was made by Edward Hopper. What do you notice about it?

Student 1: Well, it looks like everything is closed, and all the shops and the windows are closed, and it doesn’t look like anybody is on the street.

Student 2: I think that it also really looks like a morning because of the way that the shadows are long.

Student 3: It shows the stillness of the morning when the sun just comes up, everybody is still in bed.

Student 4: I’m wondering if, I think the words were blurred on purpose to let you imagine what the shops would be.

Mark Joshua Epstein: Edward Hopper said that this painting was based on a part of Seventh Avenue, which is a north-south Street in New York, and I’m wondering if anyone notices something funny about the shadows.

Student 1: When the sun rises like east-west and when the street’s sky is north-south, it’s kind of weird, because you think the shadows would be going horizontally rather than vertical.

Mark Joshua Epstein: Does anyone think it’s possible that this painting is a result of a combination of observation with imagination?

Student 1: I think yes because the shadows aren’t very realistic. It’s like realistic but then some things are like a little bit off, almost.

Mark Joshua Epstein: Now we're here at New York Interior by the artist Edward Hopper.

Student 1: I notice that it's a woman in a very beautiful, elegant dress, but it kind of looks depressing because of how dark it is.

Student 2: Also, her hand is up in the air, and I was wondering why, and she's holding her dress up, so it almost looks like she's fixing it or something.

Student 3: I see in the top right corner there's a clock, and it looks like both of the hands are pointing at the twelve, so that shows it might be late at night.

Student 4: She kind of seems lonely. Maybe she was in a relationship of some sort and they decided to separate.

Mark Joshua Epstein: A lot of historians think that Edward Hopper was inspired to paint this scene by his travels on the El Train, which was a train in New York that had an elevated track, so he could see through people's windows when he was on the train. 

Student 1: Well, now that you said that, I noticed that the sides are cut off so it looks like a window. 

Student 2: I'm kind of thinking since he only really got a glimpse of what was happening, you can't really totally describe the significance of the moment, and so she might actually be really happy, because from that point of view, you can’t really see her face.

Mark Joshua Epstein: One other question I had just to think about our own experience for a moment, if you walked into the museum, and you saw a painting like this of you through a window of your apartment, how would you feel?

Student 1: I would feel kind of invaded, like somebody took a picture of me. 

Student 2: I would also feel kind of like, why are you looking at me, and what's so interesting about me when I'm just sewing up my dress?

Student 3: Unpopular opinion. It would be cool to have a painting by a famous artist about you. I'd be kind of surprised, but I'd also be like, cool! 

Narrator: Artist and art critic Brian O’Doherty. 

Brian O’Doherty: We're looking at New York Interior. He was 39 when he did that. But Hopper lived long and he was a slow starter, determined. He was a long-distance runner and he paced himself. So, New York Interior proves something that he said to me. He said every artist has a core of originality, a core that is himself. And how does that come out in art? It comes out in the format of things. It comes out in the concerns, the themes, and the details of the paintings he does, even when he's young. 

Narrator: In New York Interior, as is true in paintings from throughout his career, Hopper offers select details, but ultimately doesn’t reveal who or what we are looking at. 

Brian O’Doherty: But she does seem to be a sort of ballerina or dancer. She's in a very flouncy dress. But as I look at it further I see that what she's doing is she's sewing something on her lap and the hand raised, as you may remember from watching your mother. She's sewing and in that hand there's probably—if we could see closely enough—a needle. 

Now on the right there is some typical Hopper furniture, a clock that's rather unusual; time is present. On the left there's another picture. And I look at those things and they're incidentals which gradually tended to be burned away from his art as his vision got purer. But what I do look at as a very powerful thing is that big black vertical on the left which is holding the piece in and is like a kind of exclamation saying, "Look at this picture."

Carter Foster: I was able to identify the building that Hopper was looking at that inspired the painting, through old photographs. 

Narrator: Carter Foster is the Steven and Ann Ames Curator of Drawing at the Whitney.

Carter Foster: What's interesting about the painting is how Hopper both stretched out the building and condensed it the same time. It sounds paradoxical and it sort of is. But what he did was he added an extra bay, an extra window, so that sort of elongates the top of the structure. But he also added another shop opening in the bottom part, so that you get this compression. You get smaller doors and windows than were actually there.

He sets off that sense of compression with this very prominent barber pole, which I have to read as a stand-in for a human being, and perhaps a stand-in for Hopper himself, who was actually tall and, in fact, by this time, bald. 

So you get this face-off between this solid, familiar but mundane building and this very brightly lit barber pole in this kind of masterful composition, perhaps of which the main subject is light and the way light plays off the built urban environment. 

Narrator: One of the most important details in Early Sunday Morning is something you might not notice right away—the dark square in the upper right corner. A larger building was going up when Hopper was working on the painting. Its looming silhouette suggests the rapid urbanization and modernization that was transforming the city.

Carter Foster: A building very much like Early Sunday Morning forms the background of Nighthawks. Early Sunday Morning represents daytime. Nighthawks represents nighttime. 

Here, the overarching subject matter would be times of day and the passing of time, day to night. It's also about memory and the way that the urban environment changes. I think that we can look at the paintings together and they enrich each other and give us a larger context that Hopper was thinking about when he made both works. 

Carter Foster: Early Sunday Morning was significant for this exhibition because in doing early research, I was able to identify the building that Hopper was looking at that inspired the painting, through old photographs. 

Narrator: You can see one of those photographs on your screen.

Carter Foster: What's interesting about the painting is how Hopper both stretched out the building and condensed it the same time. It sounds paradoxical and it sort of is. But what he did was he added an extra bay, an extra window, so that sort of elongates the top of the structure. But he also added another shop opening in the bottom part, so that you get this compression. You get smaller doors and windows than were actually there.

He sets off that sense of compression with this very prominent barber pole, which I have to read as a stand-in for a human being, and perhaps a stand-in for Hopper himself, who was actually tall and, in fact, by this time, bald. 

So you get this face-off between this solid, familiar but mundane building and this very brightly lit barber pole in this kind of masterful composition, perhaps of which the main subject is light and the way light plays off the built urban environment. 

Narrator: One of the most important details in Early Sunday Morning is something you might not notice right away—the dark square in the upper right corner. A larger building was going up when Hopper was working on the painting. Its looming silhouette suggests the rapid urbanization and modernization that was transforming the city. 

To hear more about Early Sunday Morning and its relationship to Nighthawks—the other painting in this room—please tap your screen.