Pretty much what it says in the header.
I’m a big fan of Hopper’s paintings. They share a similar quality to a Hemingway short story in their laconic style, and the narrative between the line (or brushstroke, I guess). There’s such energy in the restraint used by each of them, a desperation for the stories to be explored in more detail. (As an aside, I think people misunderstand Hemingway as merely tight prose, which it is and isn’t—some of his sentences were ridiculously long and breathless.)
And by looking at the view as linked above, it isn’t difficult to understand why Hopper felt New England a good place to settle.
There’s more of a travelogue here:
THIS time of year Corn Hill Beach in Truro, Mass., on the outer arm of Cape Cod, is a joyful, teeming playground. At low tide, the warm water of Cape Cod Bay recedes to expose banks of smooth sand, which swarm with kids, dogs and blissfully vacationing parents. As the sun sinks toward Provincetown, it cuts through a hazy summer sky, shimmering off the quicksilver bay. It picks out Corn Hill, at the north side of the beach, and daubs the tiny cottages at its crest in sure, vibrant strokes.
I desperately want to visit.
