"Automat" and Collective Isolation

Edward Hopper, AutomatReading The Art of Travel aroused feelings of nostalgia, specifically in that I found myself thinking more about life in New York City, rather than life abroad. Many ideas discussed in the second chapter struck me: a love for the clouds, hotel pads acting as recipients of profound thoughts, journeys on trains as the sites for continuous reflection, not being able to experience one’s true self at home because one is surrounded by fixtures that do not change, and the idea of taking off in a plane symbolizing one’s personal ascension or transformation. As someone who has moved a number of times and has spent what feels like endless hours in the clouds flying across the country, I’ve often thought about the way in which travel lends to periods of reflection. However, as relatable I find those themes to be, I keep thinking about the description of the Edward Hopper’s 1927 painting, “Automat.” De Bottom writes that the painting illustrates: A common isolation that generally has the beneficial effect of lessening the oppressive sense within any one person that he or she is alone in being alone…we may dilute our feeling of isolation in a lonely public place and hence rediscover distinctive sense of community. (51) In my opinion, not only do the colors, texture, and Great Depression iconography affect an emotional reaction in any viewer, but the idea of collective isolation also seems to be a profound idea to which many can relate. New York is a place where one has a relationship with the city, sometimes even a deeper connection with it than with one specific person. Sure, New York is bustling with restaurants, nightlife, attractions, and busy streets on which groups walk, talk, chat, laugh. Yet many establishments also promote collective isolation. It’s not uncommon to find a coffee shop filled with people, each sitting alone at a small table reading a book, writing or sketching in a notebook, or listening to his or her headphones. Similar acts occur in the park, where “people watching” is the most prevalent activity. Even going to the theater, even with its social component of preshow dining and cocktails with friends, sets up a condition under which a large amount of people gather under one roof to sit in a compartmentalized space in relative darkness and not speak to each other. In fact, the act is quite reminiscent of traveling by rail or plane. For many, New York is a place of overstimulation and alienation, and I am not surprised that hubs of collective isolation seem embedded into the infrastructure of the city. I see myself in Hopper’s woman, and I also see the anonymous faces of many strangers I have observed while sitting alone at the table of a dark coffee shop. Thus, it’s no surprise that, as De Bottom describes, I have felt most at ease with myself in these sanctuaries of personal reflection.