100 Years of Illustration

Edward Hopper as an Illustrator, 1906-1925

I mentioned Gail Levin's excellent title above so if you're interested in learning more, it's in the book. She's the authority. I'll just add some opinions from another point of view. That's the cover and you can still get it used in paper at Amazon and for considerably less at ABE books. Click on these images to enlarge them.

Detail of the above. This would have made a great illustration if only Hopper had cared about the characters. The rigging and the action are well delineated but there's no life in the picture. It looks to me like one more job to do and to get it finished as soon as possible.

Here he is plugging away in Clarence Coles Phillips' ad agency bullpen, circa 1906. Coles Phillips (1880-1927) had a great career as an illustrator -- he's on the left in the photo. He is one of the illustrators whose work is reproduced in the commemorative postage stamp collection of American Illustrators I posted earlier.

Just consider these tennis players. Could they look even more wooden? They are so obviously drawn from snapshots. I can't believe Hopper made any sketches on site. Obviously no one in those days played killer tennis the way they do today, but these are lifeless.

Here we have two women, both moving as awkwardly as can be imagined. Compare these drawings with those of John La Gatta in the posts prior to these. One wonders where the art directors and editors were and who signed off on these covers.

Hopper is quoted in Levin's book about how he hated doing illustrations for print. It shows. Here he has a French soldier in the dress of a Zouave from the Franco-Prussian war. He appears to be shouting "Who swiped my pack, gear, ammo, canteen?" something to that effect. His uniform is spotless down to the leggings and boots, and he's left his bayonet somewhere. I have no idea what the artillerymen are doing fiddling with the field piece behind him. The lettering describes 1870-71 as The Terrible Year, but this looks more like the stage setting for an operetta.

Now for something totally different. Hopper redeemed himself in a short period of time. He began to paint some significant pieces.

Chop suey, 1929, is an oil on canvas in the collection of Barney A. Ebsworth and reproduced from the brochure to promote the show at the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston.

Detail. Hopper brings a different attitude to the subjects. I think working in oils helped a lot. These become paintings, as opposed to the indifferent illustrations seen above. I feel certain that he had to work through them to get here.

Lighthouse Hill, 1927, at the Dallas (Texas) Museum of Art.

Lighthouse at Two Lights, 1929, at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York City.

Gas, 1940, at the Museum of Modern Art, New York City. This is a Cape Cod gas station as it appeared when Hopper and his wife, Jo, vacationed there.

Summertime, 1943, at the Delaware Museum of Art. Hopper at his best.

Edward Hopper for Summer Viewing

Edward Hopper's self-portrait painted in the years 1925-1930. He stood almost 6 ft. 5 inches tall, towering over most of his fellow students and colleagues. He studed with Robert Henri, as did my mentor Harold Irving Smith, began his career as an illustrator but unlike Harold and John La Gatta, could not draw pretty girs. So said his wife, Josephine, "Jo," Verstille Nivison, quoted in Gail Levin's excellent Edward Hopper as Illustrator, published by Norton, 1979.

There's so much material on Edward Hopper, the search should be the equivalent of summer reading for you, particularly if you take your laptop with you on vacation. While the Museum of Fine Arts, Boston, is promoting a large show of his paintings until 19 August, you can Google your way to information overload by searching Edward Hopper. I particularly recommend the Smithsonian Institution's An Edward Hopper Scrapbook. It's guaranteed to be a lot better than what network television has to offer. Click on all the images to enlarge them.

This is Jo sketching at Good Harbor Beach, Gloucester (MA), a Hopper watercolor dated 1925-1928.

Room, Brooklyn, 1932.

If you fear you would miss something by not seeing Hopper's paintings at the MFA, consider navigating in and out of Boston, paying the hefty admission fees, and trying to see over shoulders of those taller than you. If you think I'm being too negative, read this article by Peter Schjedahl that appeared in The New Yorker. The painting is the very famous "Nighthawks," an oil from 1942.

Carolina Morning, 1955.

Western Motel, 1957.

More, later.