Soir Bleu

I've written here before about my love for Edward Hopper-esque paintings. But as Marvin Gaye would be the first to tell you, there ain't nothin' like the real thing.

There are so many Hopper portraits of lonely, isolated people unable to connect with themselves or anyone else, staring out windows or alone in a crowd at diners, it's hard to zone in on any one in particular (although for me, Nighthawks will always be the benchmark).

I'm not sure why I'm so drawn (SWIDT?) to these pictures, but I am.

Years ago the wife and I saw a Hopper exhibit at the Whitney in New York. It's one of the best exhibitions I've ever been to, and definitely my favorite (yes I look at other things besides comic book art).

Anyway, for some reason I was in a Hopper mood today, started going through his paintings and came across this one I'd forgotten about: Soir Bleu. Or as we say in English, Blue Night.

I don't know what to love about it first. The devastatingly sad and defeated clown (worked with him), as far from comical and funny as he could be. The far eastern lamps, swaying ever so slightly in the breeze. The eclectic cast of characters dining with and around the clown, including the man behind the post who looks suspiciously like Vincent Van Gogh.

Here is one of my favorite descriptions of what Hopper is trying to convey:

Soir Bleu is a vivid and monumental work painted in 1914, almost four years after Hopper's last sojourn in Paris. Its grand scale is an indication of how strong an impression Parisian life had made on the young Hopper.

At home in his New York studio, he created this melancholy allegory from reminiscences partly literary, partly art historical, and certainly personal. The artificiality of Soir Bleu is inevitable and intentional.

Hopper, as dramatist, has assembled a cast of characters and traditional types that play out timeless roles of courtship, solicitation, and tragic self-isolation. One of these characters is described in a preliminary drawing with a note, the shadowy isolated figure of the procurer seated alone at left. Hopper has also included a classically attired clown in white, a military officer in formal uniform, a bearded intellectual in a beret, perhaps an artist, and a well-dressed bourgeois couple. Standing beyond the balustrade, as though presiding over this mixed company, is a haughty beauty in gaudy maquillage, her painted face demanding attention in the brilliant glow of oriental lanterns in the cool blue night.

In Soir Bleu, we witness Hopper's early attempt to create, rather than merely record, a sophisticated, anti-sentimental allegory of adult city life. Back in America many years later, he would stage the masterpiece Nighthawks (1942) with all the worldly reality he sought in Soir Bleu but was too young to make emotionally convincing. However, this major early painting gives a clear indication of Hopper's enormous ambition for his art.

Now I realize no one comes to this blog for a discussion about the meaning of art, its nuances or relevance to the current culture. In fact I'm not sure why anyone comes to this blog at all. My guess is it's a combination of typing errors and glitchy routers.

Nonetheless, occasionally I like to take a break from writing snarky posts, agency bashing and random rambling and appreciate the inspiring, creative genius of true masters like Hopper.

You might be concerned about the fact I'm attracted to paintings that leave me feeling melancholy, depressed and isolated. Don't be.

I work in advertising. I'm used to it.