Gloucester and the Arts

Culture Folio

Jul 4

Written By Bing McGilvray

Edward Hopper, Jo Nivison, Jeff Weaver, Charles Olson

For Peter Anastas

July 5, 2023

“This is a real place. By God it is.”

—Robert Hughes, Art Critic and Historian

Gloucester, 1923 - 2023

A few years back, I lived downtown on Prospect Street. Life had come full circle. The scene that enchanted me as a teen, when I had a poster of Edward Hopper’s Sun on Prospect Street on my bedroom wall, was now my home address. At 15, it looked like a magical place to live. Turns out it is. As a boy, I barely knew where Gloucester was, let alone that I would inhabit this very spot. Yet here I was. Except for the increase in traffic, the scene seems the same, and I never tire of it. Of course, everything changes in 100 years, and after 400 years, places are altered beyond recognition.

We are halfway through the Gloucester 400+ year and the attending hoopla that goes along with such anniversaries. So many events have been fun and informative that one can overlook the more politically jingoist elements. Personally, Gloucester has embraced me as no other place has, ever. I have been able to reassess and reinvent my life here. My many friends never cease to amaze me with their knowledge, talent, and resilience. The various intersecting communities are a rich combination of ethnicity, tradition, tolerance, and cooperation. I love Gloucester. I am grateful that fate has brought me here. There’s no place like home.

Neighbors in their eighties tell me I’m still a kid but I know I am an old man now. I do not mind at all. With age, anniversaries and birthdays have been overtaken by memorials and funerals. On holidays, I find myself meditating more than celebrating. Comprehending our past, warts and all, is essential to moving forward if what we seek is democracy and peaceful prosperity. Haha, I must be old.

*Sun on Prospect Street, Gloucester.* Edward Hopper. 1934. Cincinnati Art Museum.

My witty young friend Tony resides within sight of Our Lady of Good Voyage. ‘I live in a retirement community,’ he told me. Funny because it’s true. Tony and his diverse cadre of companions are being pushed out of Gloucester, unable to afford the market rate for living here. With them will go their ingenuity and vitality. How does banishing the youthful population bode well for our future? Where are we heading and why? Some sort of robo-totalitarianism? An all-knowing, uncaring AI dystopia? Of course, not just in Gloucester, even more so in the country, and the world. The hypocritical corruption and epidemic stupidity are extremely disturbing to me, and I know I am not alone. I’m thinking too much maybe, which results in me getting angry and all fired up and discussing it over and over with anyone who will listen. My aging mind wanders, too much to consider and too few solutions. Getting stuck in a loop, my discourse gets discursive, confusing even myself. I start to ramble. Like now. I need to focus. There’s no escape though.

So, let’s talk about Art. The History of Art is the chronicle of our existence. Down through the ages, we witness our innumerable transformations in pictures. One thing remains unchanged, human behavior. That’s the ultimate message, paradoxical and profound. At the very least, art allows us to see life from shifting perspectives. Few places have a richer art history than Cape Ann. Every picture tells a story.

Edward and Jo Hopper in Gloucester

EDWARD HOPPER & CAPE ANN, Illuminating an American Landscape will open at the Cape Ann Museum, with much fanfare, on July 22, 2023, and run through October 16. The hefty, impressive catalog is now available at the museum and online. The opportunity to view a roomful of Edward Hopper paintings is a landmark event for Gloucester, like the Grand Canyon coming to town. From the looks of this lavish book, some stunning pieces will be on display. Reproductions are important, the quality gets better all the time, but a master on the scale of Hopper must be seen, in real space and time. Great paintings must be absorbed in person. No virtual tour will ever do. We wait in anxious anticipation.

Edward Hopper stands alone in the canon of Modern Art. His paintings are solid, understated yet exquisitely rendered and undeniably powerful. Hopper captures, with uncanny economy and precision, the quiet unease of everyday life. I can think of no one who delivers more emotional punch from a rooftop, a cluster of buildings, or a solitary figure lost in thought. Several echelons above Americana, Edward Hopper was universally recognized for his genius, an originality which mysteriously evoked the human condition in the 20th Century. Hopper is never anecdotal like Norman Rockwell, nor corny like Walt Disney. Even the Surrealists embraced him as one of their own.

As much of Los Angeles is said to be Hockneyesque, Edward Hopper’s Gloucester paintings are so iconic that parts of the city are now Hopperesque. Scores of accomplished artists have worked here but few can make that claim. Hopper pinpointed and defined exactly what made Cape Ann both local and global. Midcentury, he put Gloucester back on the cultural map and into my head at a young age. Hopper’s Cape Ann paintings are truly Gloucesteresque.

The catalog is an elegant, intelligent production. Quite rightly, the illustrations are of Edward Hopper’s work and those who influenced him, but the text tells a different story. The narrative is equally about Josephine Nivison and her husband. This show could be called THE HOPPERS & CAPE ANN. For without Jo there would be no Edward Hopper, not the brooding Colossus of Art we think we know today. Jo’s Tale is just beginning to be told.

Left: Cape Ann Museum exhibition catalog, 2023.
Right: *Self-Portrait,* n.d., Josephine N. Hopper. Edward Hopper House Museum & Study Center.

An exhibition with more Josephine N. Hopper paintings hanging beside Edward’s would be intriguing. The curatorial premise is laid out in the catalog, but such a show would be impossible. Most of Jo’s work was lost, sold, or destroyed by the Whitney Museum, the very institution to which they were entrusted. This happened immediately after the Hoppers died. Edward bequeathed his entire estate to the Whitney, which included Jo’s detailed records of Hopper’s work and her own work as well. Gail Levin wrote about this troubling episode, in her massive, definitive EDWARD HOPPER, An Intimate Biography (1995, 2007). Currently some of Nivison’s work is miraculously resurfacing, but there are just a few gems in the upcoming CAM exhibit. To date, no book of Jo Nivison’s artwork has been published but I imagine, now that real research has begun in earnest, there will be. She is getting her due, long overdue.

Josephine recognized Hopper’s genius long before anyone else. In 1923, with Gloucester as a sunny Victorian backdrop, they met, courted, and soon married. Until recently, this was a story that went untold. Jo was Edward Hopper’s companion, amanuensis, muse, archivist, model, manager, nurse, cook, therapist, gatekeeper – everything he was incapable of doing himself, which was quite a lot. She gifted him his freedom and sacrificed her own. As such, they had one of the most remarkably enduring love partnerships in Art History. That either of them was working on the Hopper ‘brand,’ as the catalog suggests, I’m sure never crossed their mind. The term made me squirm. Alas, admittedly, such is the State of the Art in 2023. The Best of the Best (preferably posthumous) become corporate commodities, blue chip investments. The Name alone is the Logo. As with Apple, Exxon, Tesla, and Amazon, so it goes with Picasso, Van Gogh, Kahlo, and Basquiat. Hopper too. Exit through the Giftshop.

Left: Edward Hopper, *Jo Sketching on Good Harbor Beach,* 1923-24. Whitney Museum of American Art.
Right: Ed and Jo Hopper in South Truro, MA, 1934.

The Hoppers’ story would make a good movie, or streaming series. In 1923, a role reversal began between Ed and Jo. Before they wed, Josephine was the rising star, at the center of the social swirl of the New York art world, exhibiting and selling paintings. Smart, vivacious, talented, ambitious, Jo was making all the right moves, roaring through the twenties. Edward was more morose than usual, not having sold a painting in ten years. By 1933, the reversal was total. MoMA held his first retrospective. Edward Hopper now cast a giant show, literally and figuratively. Yet he was awkward, introspective, uncomfortable around people, prone to clinical depression. Ed needed protection. Ed needed more than a lover, more than a wife. Ed needed Jo.

Josephine N. Hopper, *Railroad Gates, Gloucester,* 1928. Edward Hopper House Museum & Study Center.

In 1923, inspired by Jo’s watercolors, Hopper adopted the medium and doing so altered the trajectory of his career. Edward Hopper’s watercolors are the highlights of the upcoming exhibition. Josephine enjoyed the portability of watercolor. Edward saw the possibilities immediately. After a short time, he was in command of the technique. The tools being less cumbersome meant the Hoppers could move around freely, painting at Stage Fort, Bass Rocks, Portuguese Hill, Annisquam, and all over Cape Ann. Falling in love, the idea of spending the day painting with Jo appealed to Ed as much as the old houses. The fact that Nivison’s watercolors were selling in New York was not lost on him either.

Ed and Jo spent only a few seasons in Gloucester, the tourist seasons. The Hoppers’ focus was the Art World, and they lived in it until death did them part. They always took the paintings back to the New York galleries. Artist Leon Kroll, legend of Lanesville, was a confidant of Hopper’s. Others they knew from New York, also summer escapees, comprised their insular art colony, including Milton Avery and Stuart Davis, who was chairman of the radical-for-its-time Gloucester Society of Artists. William Meyerowitz and Theresa Bernstein were close friends. She advised Jo to keep her family name if she wanted to continue as an artist, a decision that certainly worked out for Ms. Bernstein, who survived her husband by 20 years.

Recognition for Jo will in no way diminish the status of Edward Hopper, whose reputation rests firmly on granite foundation. Hopper paintings are magnificent to behold. When the Hopper show rolls into town, the attention will be deservedly on Edward, but the achievement will be shared by Josephine. I suspect she would be very pleased.

Jeff Weaver in Gloucester

Earlier this year, the CAM held another superb exhibition: This Unique Place. Painting and Drawings by Jeff Weaver. Comparisons between Weaver and Hopper are easy to make, especially with the two shows running back-to-back. The subject matter is the same, Gloucester. Jeff has clearly been influenced by Hopper. Few people appear in their paintings. These are just superficial resemblances. Jeff and Ed are quite different artists. On the other hand, you could say Weaver picked up where Hopper left off. They are both masters, each in their own way.

Jeff Weaver, *Tally’s Corner,* 2003. Private Collection.

If you missed Jeff’s show, well, you really missed out. I made a point of seeing it often and was disappointed when it was over. I can still feel the subtle power of Jeff’s paintings washing over me. Part of this comes from the familiarity of the location. Largely, the intensity comes from how the viewer feels ‘in the space.’ Anyone can feel it though, no need to be a local. The pictures draw you in closer, you are there, not outside the frame. Jeff doesn’t try to hide his process. His expert hand is evident everywhere. The drawings reveal exceptional draftsmanship. His skillful application of paint is dazzling, the pastels breathtaking. On close inspection, we see a journeyman artist who knows every trick of his trade. He has made in-depth, lifelong studies of his craft. Step back to see the big picture and be frozen in time. We know the season, the hour of the day. Jeff can paint the atmosphere, the light, reflections on water. For me, there was something sacred in seeing them all together. When asked who’s the best artist in Gloucester now, I always say Jeff. To me, he is unsurpassed. Jeff is also one of the nicest guys in town. Not something you might say about Edward Hopper after reading Jo’s diaries.

Jeff Weaver, *Old House on Pleasant Street,* 2011. Collection of Bing McGilvray.

Hopper’s Mansard roofs never have snow on them. Jeff Weaver paints in all seasons. Jeff arrived in Gloucester 50 years ago and got right to work. He had found his subject, knew it was inexhaustible, and never strayed too far after that. Weaver is, in the local vernacular, Glouthenic. Year round, whatever the weather, he can be seen around town with his easel, furiously capturing another composition. A tireless worker, Jeff was a commercial artist until he sold his first painting, then committed himself totally to fine art. But Jeff was never a gallery artist and doesn’t have a dealer. He sells his work from his studio and does his own framing. This was once the way of DIY regional artists and there is a long tradition of this lifestyle in Gloucester. With this retrospective, Jeff Weaver transcended the regional and realized the universal. Timelessness. That’s the intrinsic quality I always sense in Jeff’s work.

Timeless as they are, the paintings are also primary documentation of the end of a specific era, an epoch that spanned over a century. Somehow the viewer knows that the scene depicted may or may not still exist. Industrial places that once were active sit all but abandoned, rusting, but not blighted which is a real estate dog whistle. Residential areas without condo complexes? The past passing or perhaps already gone? The mystery evoked by Weaver is not psychological like Hopper. Jeff is a very friendly, easy-going artist with a zesty Zen about him. There is loneliness in his paintings but little existential angst. Jeff Weaver’s work will pass the test of time. It shall endure. As for Gloucester, I’m not so sure. Only time will tell. This Unique Place indeed.

Peter Anastas at the CAM Archives with his cataloged papers.

Outstanding art engages the mind, arouses the senses, touches the soul. I didn’t want to lose touch with the potency of Jeff’s paintings. So, I bought one. Better than a vacation, I’ll enjoy it, and for a lot longer. Jeff Weaver’s Old House on Pleasant St (The Moose Lodge) (2011) is hanging on the wall above me right now, endlessly inspiring.

Peter Anastas in Gloucester

Robert Hughes, the ex-pat Australian writer/media personality, was once dubbed ‘the most famous art critic in the world.’ He wrote for Time magazine in its heyday and was the first host of ABC’s 20/20. When researching his landmark book American Visions: The Epic History of Art in America (1997), Hughes visited Cape Ann, in search of Edward Hopper.

As reported by Peter Anastas: “… he was walking through town, when suddenly he stopped, looked around, and remarked to the local person accompanying him: ‘This is a real place. By God it is. There are so few real places left. You should do everything you can to keep it that way’.’’

Hughes was a visionary himself, but his urgent plea fell on deaf ears, and the ship of salvation has long since departed the harbor. However, you can still get a palpable sense of that real place, the Polis that once enthralled the Expert, by looking at the art, and reading the books, made in Gloucester.

The Pearce/Haskell/Calef House, circa 1795, became the Moose Lodge in 1918. The last owner was the Cape Ann Historical Association, i.e., the Cape Ann Museum. For whatever reason, the decision was made to demolish it. On August 23, 2011, it was gone overnight. I arrived in Gloucester three months later but wasn’t made aware of what was missing until several years hence when I met Peter Anastas. He was still lamenting the loss of the Moose Lodge, as was Prudence Fish, author of Antique Houses of Gloucester (2007). At the time, I was volunteering in the museum archives, where Peter was organizing his papers, now in the permanent collection along with those of Joe Garland, Barbara Erkkila, Vincent Ferrini, and the Maud-Olson Library. Peter and I became great friends. We worked together on his blog Enduring Gloucester.

The Old Moose Lodge which stood beside City Hall.

Peter Anastas was a passionate writer, scholar, teacher, activist, and historian. I was eager to learn everything he knew about literature. His grasp of Gloucester was immense, how special, and geopolitically important it was in American landscape. He was a fountain of knowledge, the Dean of Dogtown College. He regaled me with tales of Charles Olson and the brilliant people he encountered, such as Gerrit Lansing, Mary Shore, Albert Alcalay, Vincent Ferrini, Helene Dorn, Jonathan Bayliss, Helen Stein, Thorpe Feidt, and Harry Martin. These were just the locals. Luminaries of the Humanities trekked to Gloucester to confer with the great bard: Allen Ginsberg, Stan Brakhage, LeRoi and Hettie Jones, Timothy Leary, Diane Di Prima, Robert Creeley, Denise Levertov, Ed Dorn, Jack Kerouac, Ed Sanders, John Wieners and so many others.

When not toiling on his epic Maximus Poems, Olson was sending letters to the Gloucester Daily Times from his tiny apartment at 28 Fort Square. In 1963, Gloucester’s 340th anniversary year, he submitted his first ‘scream to the editor’ railing about the urban renewal that was decimating the working waterfront, entire streets, fishing piers and neighborhoods. The city deemed it progress; Charles coined it ‘renewal by destruction.’ The letters continued through 1969. Publisher Phil Weld and editor Herb Kenny welcomed them. The City Council ignored them. Peter gathered them together in a wonderful volume, Maximus to Gloucester (1992). He inscribed my copy: ‘To Bing, who loves this place better than most natives.’ It was true. He had passed his passion on to me.

What’s done is done, gone is gone. Sadly, I arrived here at the end of an epoch when the Gloucester of Charles Olson was fast disappearing. Nonetheless, Peter planted the Olson seed in my psyche. The Black Mountain now beginning to blossom. Gloucester is not just magical, it is mythological. O, Fish Town! There was so much more Peter wanted to relate. Even though Charles Olson and Peter Anastas are physically absent, their spirit remains a keen frequency which I constantly tune in to, like radio waves washing in from the North Atlantic, permeating the soul and cosmology of this beau port, this portal to the Universe, this Polis, this Gloucester Massachusetts. This is a real place. By God it is.

Bing McGilvray was born in Brighton MA. His educational journey led him in and out of many fascinating institutions, gathering along the way a BA (1976) from UMass Amherst and an MFA (1984) from UCLA. His thesis project was an in-studio video interview with Timothy Leary, now on YouTube.

“My young desire to become a cartoonist turned into a lifelong experimentation with words and images. I read and walk, think and project, write and draw, take photos, make comix, digital pics, videos and occasionally burst into song.” In 2011, Bing moved to Gloucester and plans to stay.