Las Vegas, Nevada: Hotel Window
A few things happened before I came out here that seemed portentous. I won three dollars on my home state's lotto. I broke my elbow biking, making me a one-armed bandit. And I traveled on September 15, 2001 on one of the first flights allowed out of Chicago's Midway airport after 9/11. So my experience in Las Vegas was different than most. Conveniently for my tastes and my project, I had the city virtually to myself and mostly locals to interview.
When I pulled up to valet park at Bellagio, an older gentleman with a younger woman got into a low red sportscar whose doors swung open upwards. This was already different than my usual museum visits. I mentioned that I was there to see the Hopper Captain Upton's House, and the ticket-taker beamed, "We actually have two." Sure enough, Martin had acquired Hotel Window since I did my research before traveling. If Vegas is supposed to make your wildest dreams come true, then it worked for me. Hotel Window had come to a city full of hotel windows.
Hotel Window is a classic of a Hopper. A white-haired woman with her hands folded on her lap sits on a stiff blue hotel lobby couch and twists to stare out a fantastically large picture window that looks onto a bleak cityscape. Her long thin face floats in the enormous void of the window. A blue rug takes up much of the painting's lower half and seems to set her adrift on a featureless sea. An electric light on the table beside the couch illuminates two pamphlets--maybe Gideon's Bibles, this being a hotel.
Hopper commented of this painting: "It's no particular hotel lobby, but many times I've walked through the Thirties from Broadway to Fifth Avenue and there are a lot of cheesy hotels in there. That probably suggested it. Lonely? Yes, I guess it's lonelier than I planned it, really."
Jo wrote, "Picture definitely not called: 'Alone in the City at Night.' But why not?" Maybe because the lone preparatory sketch for this painting included a man seated across from the woman.
Steve Martin stated on the taped audio guide (written with help from New York art critic Adam Gopnik): "This is Edward Hopper at his most poetic, but also at his most quietly surreal. … That his pictures still move so many people so deeply suggests that there must be a black hole of loneliness, an echo chamber at the heart of American life, where his images resonate permanently."
The other Hopper was no less typical, though not a gritty urban scene: Captain Upton's House. The painting shows a lighthouse and keeper's house atop a hill of wheat-colored summer grass bathed in sunshine. Steve's narration for Captain Upton's House posited, "Edward Hopper is to American paintings as Robert Frost is to American poetry. … the other side of his vision lay in his admiration for the kind of permanent, weathered, American endurance symbolized here by the house of an old sea captain."
I didn't know why Martin was showing his paintings. Neither did he. "[F]or some reason, it occurred to me it was time to exhibit these few pictures," he wrote, "I can only guess why."
Chicago writer Kevin Grandfield visited 47 US cities where Edward Hopper paintings hung in public museums and asked people, "Do you feel Americans are isolated as Hopper portrayed us?" What he heard, learned, and experienced fills the pages of this blog. (Hit CTRL + to make the text bigger.) Thanks for visiting! Copyright ©2013 and prior years, Kevin Grandfield. All rights reserved.
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