Edward Hopper, “Girlie Show,” 1941, oil on canvas, Fayez S. Sarofim Collection. © 2020 Heirs of Josephine N. Hopper / Licensed by Artists Rights Society (ARS), NY
Climb the curving staircase up to the second level in the Nancy and Rich Kinder Building, make a left into the number 203 gallery, then a hard right, and you encounter two very different oil-on-canvas paintings by Edward Hopper: Moonlight Interior (1921–23), in which a nude woman, her face hidden, leans over a bed as the soft blue evening sky, made visible through an open window, retreats behind the shadows of her congested neighborhood; and Girlie Show (1941), an eye-popping portrait of a topless burlesque theater performer who has just walked onstage, her arms open and fingers stretched like a Balinese dancer, as a blue scarf billows behind her, its color matching that of her G-string and high heels. Instead of moonlight, her white skin is illuminated by a spotlight. Her orange-red hair is rolled into a pompadour, and her red lipstick is the same color as her nipples. Here, Hopper has painted a woman who is roguish, uncompromising, and completely dedicated to her craft, all of which describes his wife Josephine Hopper, née Nivison, a talented and sorely underappreciated painter who modeled for all of her husband’s paintings, including Girlie Show.
In my observation, museum visitors respond to Girlie Show in at least a few ways, either nodding admiringly, giggling with embarrassment, or rolling their eyes before moving on to look at something else. There are just as many divergent reactions to this painting by art critics and independent scholars, though the tired trope of two tortured artists locked into a tortuous marriage is a recurring thread. Elizabeth Thompson Colleary, who has written extensively about Jo, and cataloged and curated hundreds of her watercolors and oils, describes Girlie Show as “one of the angriest paintings I’ve ever seen.” In an article for American Art, Vivien Green Fryd writes: “The painting reveals the power struggle between the Hoppers and became one more battleground within their troubled marriage. . . . The work became an active agent in a dialect between husband and wife, artist and model, beholder and subject. . . .”
But what if, instead of “wife,” “model,” or “muse,” you reconsider Jo as Edward’s equal and a genuine collaborator, and Girlie Show as his way of affirming this truth?
Jo and Edward married in 1924; she was 41, and he was 42. As Jo recorded in her diaries, the marriage was volatile, and conflicts often became physical, with both Jo and Edward inflicting bites, slaps, and bruises upon the other’s body. Edward was notoriously loath to appreciate his wife’s artistic gifts, and it is only in recent years that Jo’s talent as a painter has come to light. And let’s get even more real: It wasn’t that long ago that H.W. Janson’s History of Art, a thick tome published in 1962 completely devoid of women or people of color, was the standard for art-history books (although updated editions of the book now include women). In the first half of the 20th century, when women were not taken seriously as artists, Jo’s commitment to her practice is admirable, though, in her diaries, she lamented the loss of her creative autonomy as she dedicated more and more time to supporting her husband’s artistic career. Given all of that, it’s understandable that many interpret Girlie Show as portraying a “power struggle” within a husband and wife relationship mirroring the larger issue of gender disparity in America during the war years.
Understandable, yes. But accurate? I’ve looked at Girlie Show in the middle of a sunny day, and most recently one evening, after dark, just before attending a film in the Lynn Wyatt Theater. (Jo, of course, is the model for the usherette in his 1939 painting New York Movie.) And while the vibe of my surroundings may change, I always see Jo the artist, resplendent and resilient, despite the varying levels of attention from the three men and one couple in the audience. And I am reminded of how we often fall short when it comes to giving due credit to our intimate partners, not as a source of inspiration but as collaborators in our artistic growth, and bringing out into the world what Edward described as “the outward expression of an inner life in the artist.”
Sources:
https://www.theparisreview.org/blog/2018/02/26/jo-hopper-woman-sun-woman-shadow/
https://www.journals.uchicago.edu/doi/10.1086/424356
https://whitney.org/collection/works/6254
https://newartexaminer.net/a-slight-look-into-edward-hopper/
https://hair-and-makeup-artist.com/womens-1940s-hairstyles/
