John Updike may be America's most accomplished living novelist. His penetrating psychological portraits have earned him critical acclaim (one Pulitzer prize for "Rabbit is Rich" and a second for "Rabbit at Rest") and popular recognition (two Time Magazine cover stories).
He is also a prolific and perceptive art critic. A first book, "Just Looking," was published in 1987, and in the intervening two decades he has, by his own count, published some 50 additional essays. Many of these have appeared in the New York Review of Books and run as long as 3,000 words, making them far more detailed than the reviews one finds in the local newspaper.
Knopf has gathered 18 of Updike's essays about American art and published them in Still Looking - a small, well- illustrated volume.
Though they vary in length, all the essays deal with temporary exhibitions of American art. With three exceptions, the essays focus on individual artists. Updike writes about all eras of American art - from the colonial portraits of John Singleton Copley to the late 20th-century works of Andy Warhol - but the majority of the essays deal with artists who were active from the mid-19th to the mid-20th centuries.
Some of his subjects are well-known while others are less likely to be recognized by the casual museum visitor.
So we learn about Winslow Homer and Martin Heade, Jackson Pollock and Arthur Dove, Thomas Eakins and Marsden Hartley, Edward Hopper and Albert Pinkham Ryder. Two of the artists were born in the United States and moved abroad (Copley and Whistler); two were born overseas but spent their careers on these shores (Alfred Steiglitz and Elie Nadleman); and most of the rest spent at least some time studying abroad.
It's a diverse and, at first glance, unrelated group of artists. But Updike maintains that the history of American art is more connected than it appears. In large part, this is because the American experience itself is such a powerful force in shaping the vision of the individual artists, regardless of whether they were American-born or not.
In his words: "The dots can be connected from Copley to Pollock: the same impassioned engagement with materials, the same demand for a morality of representation, and the same aversion to what Marsden Hartley called a compromising softness...."
The essays start with an arresting first sentence ("At times in his letters, Thomas Eakins sounds as cranky and as ingeniously folksy as Ezra Pound") that pulls the reader into the piece. He …