I much admire Edward Hopper's work. I love the way he allows us to contemplate private moments, ordinary moments. He presents them cinematically so that they seem elevated to scenes of quiet drama, but really they are simply the stuff of life.
I first saw Night on the El Train at an exhibition of American prints at the British Museum some years ago, and like so much of Hopper's work it has stayed prominent in my memory. Especially so perhaps because I remember how when my husband and I were courting back in the 60s we had to snatch at any opportunity to be intimate. This could have been us.