Edward Hopper's visions of New York

Edward Hopper's visions of New York

Edward Hopper lived his entire life in New York and its surrounding areas. It was a place he knew deeply, his work celebrates its distinctive architectural character. But despite his familiarity with the city, his work is so often from the perspective of the outsider looking in. It puts the city on a pedestal that is recognisable to the non-native.

The archetype is Nighthawks. A late night diner viewed from outside, its vast curving windows and bright artificial light staging and spotlighting the four figures assembled at the counter. Despite their proximity, each is apparently preoccupied with their own thoughts, leading to the prevailing interpretation of urban alienation and disconnection. And yet it contains within it that oh-so-New-York seductiveness. Few images are so culturally embedded in a sense of the city. The sweeping curves, pastel hues, and cool artificial light of ‘Phillies’ late night diner, swathing its occupants with a streamline romanticism that couldn’t belong to any other city.

But while Hopper is championed as a pioneer of ‘American Realism’, his depiction of the city is anything but realistic. The streets are stripped of their grime, their imperfections, and prominently their people. The figures are lonely, either physically or in their demeanour. Look at the unblemished pavement spotlit in Nighthawks, the uninterrupted empty spaces. Instead of the raw chaos for which this city is known, we find a loud silence. Hopper’s refined, quieter New York.

Edward Hopper, Nighthawks, 1942. An archetypal image of New York.

Cubitts West Village, with it's colour palette and lighting inspired by Hopper's canvases.

Early Sunday Morning from 1930, a detail of which adorns the newest Cubitts cleaning cloth, is an exemplar. It is completely empty of people, with Hopper having painted out a figure that once appeared in the window. What has at first a semblance of crisp realist representation, contains a multitude of strangeness. The stores lining the street are fronted with signwriting, revealed on close inspection to be a ghostly blur, anonymising the buildings. The true location is Seventh Avenue, whose geography makes the long morning shadows an impossibility, a fantasy of the artist. It’s a nostalgic perspective—dare I say rose-tinted—appropriate for the outsider’s notions of the city.

The latest Cubitts cleaning cloth, featuring Early Sunday Morning (1930) is now available to purchase online, with all proceeds donated to the New York Foundation of the Arts.