That really bold, vibrant modern art, with deep cyan and endless expanse- that's my thang.
Whitman did boardwalks, Frost did pastoral New England, Guthrie did personal liberty in the great expanse, and Jobs did tech in geekchic.
Here are the rest:
Here is some shiny, sandy, spacey, California-ism. There is nothing like a used car lot with banners fluttering overhead, sailing in the gusts:
Artist: David Hockney
Artist: David Hockney
Here is some glassy, glossy, abstract, faceted, photorealistic 1970s modernism:
Artist: Richard Estes
Artist: Ralph Goings
Remark: Perhaps a Hopper diner scene would be a fitting contrast.
Here is some De Chirico on the highway and along the coast:
Rooms By The Sea
Artist: Edward Hopper
Remark: East Coaster!
And some highway, freeway, strip mall photography:
Pikes Peak Park Colorado Springs 1970
Photographer: Robert Adams
San Francisco's cable cars climbing the Powell
Taken: circa 1945
That west coast america! Splendid then, Silicon-spectacular now. Always now.
Neon fruit supermarkets and stacks and stacks of commodities:
Artist: Tom Christopher
Completed: Recently! New stuff.
The final crosshatch of Hopper's geometrically fractionalized realism and the planar photorealism creates a haze that is filled with filmy sylphs that leap into any conjuration of artistic inspiration when it happens and ask nothing in return, unlike the more pernicious figments that await around the spellcaster, in clouds and mists, and, when he casts a spell for which he has insufficient readiness and forces readied, the cloud streams into the casting aura without permission and the sorceror unknowingly strikes a clickwrap-like pact with each one, one of which may be the devil.
The american gauze field here is nothing like that.
Just lots of diners, highways, strip malls, and multimedia, and it is very very grand.
Here is to the new patriotism, the new americana, the new constitutionalism, that celebrates our vast pool of everything and immerses into all, that dives into the thick syrup, that indulges but does not waste, that sees the blue collar no longer as the backbone of the nation but as an essential cultural coolness that just has to stick around for a while longer, that adores technology but remains wary when tin gods presume to shape it beyond unearthly parameters.
That whisks us away in The Chronicles of Riddick and Doom, that screams when Steve Jobs speaks and hisses at Bill Gates, but loves him just as much, that admires wealth but realizes that one can have a broadband connection, a nearby Starbucks, and a weekend foray into Target and Costco and have a grand old time, that realizes that the rages against poverty and promises of job creation by the demagogic politicians are misguided and that they need to merely let the grand Internet and all its accessories progress blindly and let all the commodities grow cheaper so that poverty, in spirit, is inevitably abolished via this ever-cheapening of accessible gizmos and psychic recreation, and the rest of the time, we can dally in verse, film-making, auto-beauty and veganism, and fly over the endless rooftops in splendid, stirring spectacle.
Oh, we do adore you, America!