Nighthawks

The beautiful painting named Nighthawks by Edward Hopper from 1942.

This piece says so much, doesn't it? Hopper began painting it immediately after the attack on Pearl Harbor. The original currently resides in the Art Institute of Chicago.

The scene depicts a corner in Greenwich Village where Mr. Hopper grew up. The scene accurately shows the mood of the time. The war led to an overall gloominess, which is obvious in the painting.

The streets are empty. Late at night, there are but a trio of patrons at "Phillies Diner" (which did really exist at the corner of Seventh Ave and W 11th Street, but has long since been demolished.)

There is a couple, with "hawk-like" noses, a nice nod to the title. Even though they are together, they are obviously distant from one another. The third patron sits with his back to us, alone. Who knows what demons or inner dialogue he is battling with?

Then there is the "employee." His posture and demeanor clue us in on the fact that he is not the owner of the establishment. His age suggests that he is probably working past retirement, for a boss much younger than he is.

Despite the inherent depression in the piece, there is a quiet solitude. As we race around in this day and age, wireless and mobile, yet still so connected that we rarely have time for a quiet thought, it is easy to envy the placid reverie that Hopper has created. Remember the moments when you could sit in a silent place with nothing but your thoughts? Look how empty the streets are.

As with any great piece of art, their have been homages and replications.

First, here is George Segal's life size sculpture The Diner:

Segal deserves a blog post of his own for his body of work (pun intended). His life size sculptures do a marvelous job of existing beyond their space(s). The Diner has a certain posture to it that winks back in time at Hopper's painting. More than the composition itself, the attitude itself lends itself to homage.

Then there is Roger Brown, whose painting Puerto Rican Wedding (1969) borrows a little bit of Escher with his take on the urban landscape. He delivers a nearly immaculate ratio of black and white while saving a nice portion of the real estate for his somewhat inhuman tip of the hat to the Hawks:

From there, the influence of Hopper's original effort tends to spread. For instance, the Photorealist Ralph Goings seemed to be interested only in painting diners, ketchup bottles, and rounded cafe corners. While he does not specifically claim Hopper's painting as an inspiration, I'm sure you will agree that the influence of Nighthawks is in Going's work, even if it was due to a subconscious force. Here is Tiled Lunch Counter by Mr. Goings, dated 1981.

Of course one cannot write about or discuss Nighthawks without mentioning THAT painting. You know the one. Gottfried Helnwein's Boulevard of Broken Dreams. I'll include a shot of it here for the sake of completion, but you could just as easily go buy one at a Spencer's gift shop in a mall and enjoy the work emblazoned with neon lights.

Don't get me wrong. I get it. Icononclastic emblems of a bygone era placed in the landscape that originally had resonance due to the cultural motif of the era and all that, but I really cringe every time I see this image. James Dean would be rolling over in his grave if he knew his visage was being used to disfigure such a work of art for the sake of selling $500 framed lamps.

Sorry for the rant...back on topic...

Here's an image that should make you smile from my new favorite blog Artinthepicture:

Nighthawks perfectly recreated in Lego.

In conclusion, if you can get your hands on a copy of The Best American Poetry 1991 then you will find in its pages a beautifully written piece of literature by Joyce Carol Oates, titled Edward Hopper's Nighthawks:1942 where she has written internalized monologues for each of the quartet of characters. The piece was originally written for The Yale Review but I would recommend you pick up the copy of the story in The Best American Poetry 1991 for two reasons: (1) There are 74 other wonderful entries in the collection and (2) the cover art is by a man named Edward Hopper:

(Cover art for The Best American Poetry 1991 by Edward Hopper, a 1951 painting titled Rooms by the Sea.)