I’ve always admired the artist Edward Hopper for various reasons. His paintings are clear and quiet, yet dynamic, colorful, emotional and layered; they are full of life and simply stated.
I particularly love his eye for narrative, mostly because he leaves open to interpretation what he has depicted. Poets and painters are wonderful, and delightfully complicated that way.
In this painting, A Room in New York, I have always imagined I am looking at a brother and sister, or perhaps cousins, waiting in the living room of their widowed grandmother’s apartment while she finishes making dinner. This is a weekly obligatory task the two young people always see to, but resent having to perform. They are too familiar to care they are not being polite with one another, too bored to make conversation, and too annoyed to have any interest in doing anything else but sit and wait.
They will eat their dinner wordlessly while their grandmother chatters away, and afterward, at the exact moment it is generally considered polite to say goodnight, they will rush out the door, promising to see her the following week… but leave her feeling sad and forlorn.
What do you see?
In response to The Blog Propellant Picture Prompt #24