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I was in the city today. It was for class. We were aimlessly wondering between the Metreon and Union Square taking pictures of whatever and wondered into this random building full of small private art galleries. We enter the first gallery and I was already bored from the elevator ride up and didn't really care until I saw the Hopper.
I was expecting "art" by "artists" and the like but instead I'm face to face with original work by my favorite painter. It was mostly small pieces of water colors and sketch studies he'd done for larger painting. It all seemed very intimate hanging mixed with a couple other artists in two of the three small rooms of the gallery.
I spent a couple minutes with each of the small pieces a little more excited about the next as I got further into the rooms. Then as I was making my way around the second room I noticed on the back wall of the third, framed by a doorway, was a large piece.
I just stood there unmoved.
I don't know what it was exactly but something was just ... I don't know. I've been to large galleries full of old and popular stuff. I've been face to face with Monet and Picasso and others but never had a painting actually moved me. Seeing this large Hopper I needed a minute, not just to take it in but to even approach it.
When I did I looked at the color choices for the shadows and the skin textures. I thought about the time spent by the artist with that piece and standing there in front of it like he had I felt connected to something in that abstract way everyone longs for. I couldn't remember the last time I felt that. Then we left and I couldn't see any point to going into any of the other galleries, there was nothing I could get out of them.
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