I think that Hopper must have loved Rembrandt. They both get light and shadow. You can see the influence here--dark, luminous skin, and slippery brushstrokes.
(And there's humor here, too--it's funny how the woman looms over the bed, and how when you stand before this painting at the Whitney, your backside is what the world sees).
4 comments:
I love that -- and I've never seen it. Thank you for posting -- there's always something to see, hear, learn on your blog.
A Hopper's worth a boxcar of bad poeticals, and their little squeak-books and word-collages too.
But real Ahht requires work .
Better to just emit words at the local starbux, and get some pussay the easy way
I don't understand, J, your reference to "bad poeticals, their little squeak-books, and word-collages," although I do like the way squeak-books sound. If you think poetry is not real AHHT, there's not much to discuss. It's the language art, and the workload is incredible, as is the payoff.
And that pussay remark--jejune.
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