Before I decided to write a rant on the holidays, I had hoped to talk about my weekend. I accomplished a lot over those 48 hours, but one of the most memorable activities was unplanned.
I attended another silent movie at the National Gallery (The Merry Widow). Given that I arrived downtown much earlier than expected, I decided to take an hour to view the Edward Hopper exhibit. A-M had been talking about it for the past few weeks and I figured that I needed a bit of culture that day. The exhibit was wonderful. Hopper's use of color, light, and perspective was phenomenal. Throughout the exhibit, I felt aspects of my own existence reflected in his work. I sensed my own experience of isolation, loneliness, and unease in the female figures' expressions/non-expressions and the cold-warm, bleak-beautiful landscapes and cityscapes.
The painting that struck me the most, and the one that I'll be back to view this Saturday (yes, another movie…) is Summer Interior. Interestingly, this painting is said to have been influenced by Degas' Interior, which is another troubling, beautiful and ambiguous painting. I won't bore you with my interpretation of either because it's irrelevant and personal—just mentioning it in this entry reflects my own psyche. But I encourage you to go to the National Gallery to view Summer Interior (near the exhibit's entrance) and Hopper's other masterpieces.
No comments:
Post a Comment