Fine Art Poster
From $29
A giclée print on 200gsm matte fine art paper, using a twelve-colour process for accurate, fade-resistant colour. Supplied unframed, delivered flat or rolled.
From Williamsburg Bridge - Edward Hopper
Regular price
$29.00 USD
Sale price
$29.00 USD
Regular price
Archival giclée
Frames arrive ready to hang
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Made to order
Description
A 1928 oil painting by Edward Hopper, capturing the quiet, sunlit facades of New York City tenement buildings from the perspective of the Williamsburg Bridge.
Edward Hopper painted From Williamsburg Bridge in 1928, capturing a specific vantage point of New York City architecture. The composition focuses on the upper storeys of tenement buildings as seen from the elevated perspective of the bridge. Hopper employs a clear, direct approach to the urban environment, prioritising the interplay of light and shadow across the brick facades. The buildings are rendered with a sense of stillness, a recurring quality in his work. The palette consists of muted ochres, deep reds, and a clear, expansive blue sky. Hopper avoids unnecessary detail, choosing instead to define the structures through their geometric forms and the stark contrast between sunlit surfaces and deep, cool shadows. A single figure appears in one of the windows, a small detail that introduces a human presence into the otherwise architectural scene. This inclusion provides a sense of scale and isolation, common themes within his body of work. The painting reflects the artist's interest in the mundane aspects of city life. By elevating the viewer to the level of the bridge, Hopper transforms a standard street view into a study of urban texture and light. The work avoids sentimentality, presenting the buildings as solid, physical entities. The horizontal lines of the bridge railing in the foreground act as a frame, separating the viewer from the buildings across the way. This distance creates a quiet, observational atmosphere, characteristic of Hopper's approach to the American city during the early twentieth century. The work remains a precise record of the architectural character of the period, executed with a disciplined application of paint and a focus on the clarity of light.
Return policy
Because every print is made to order, we don't offer change-of-mind returns, refunds or exchanges. If your order arrives faulty, damaged or incorrect, we'll replace it free of charge — just contact us within 48 hours of delivery. See our refunds page for full details.
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We ship worldwide, printing at the production hub nearest to your delivery address. Delivery times and costs vary by destination — you'll see the options available to you at checkout.
Manufacturing
Each print is produced to order using 12-colour giclée printing on FSC-certified archival paper. Designed in Britain and printed at your nearest production hub to reduce waste and speed up delivery.
Complete The Look
From Williamsburg Bridge - Edward Hopper
Regular price
From $29.00 USD
Sale price
From $29.00 USD
Regular price
Fine Art Poster / A4 (21x29.7 cm) / -
Artist Biography
Edward Hopper
Hopper liked walking around New York at night, looking into lit windows. Room in New York, one of his best paintings, came from doing exactly that: glimpsing a couple in an apartment, not speaking to each other, the woman touching a piano key with one finger. He painted what he saw from the outside.
He grew up in Nyack, a small town on the Hudson River, studied illustration, then moved to Robert Henri's painting class at the New York School of Art. Henri was the central figure of the Ashcan School, which painted American life without prettifying it. Hopper absorbed the directness but not the social energy. His paintings got quieter, more still, more concerned with what people look like when they think nobody is watching.
He went to Paris three times between 1906 and 1910 and came back with Degas and Manet in his head: cropped compositions, angled light, figures caught mid-thought. Then he spent a decade failing commercially, working as an illustrator to pay the bills, and painting watercolours that nobody bought. Success came late. His first solo show was at forty-one.
In 1924 he married Josephine Nivison, a painter who had also studied under Henri. She modelled for nearly every female figure in his paintings, managed his career, and kept detailed records of every work he produced. The marriage was difficult. Both of them had sharp tempers. She engineered his public image as a recluse, which he was, mostly.
Nighthawks, the diner painting, was made in 1942. Jo named it. Hopper admitted he was probably painting the loneliness of a large city, though he was reluctant to say so directly. The diner has no visible door. People have pointed this out for eighty years and nobody has determined whether it was intentional.
He grew up in Nyack, a small town on the Hudson River, studied illustration, then moved to Robert Henri's painting class at the New York School of Art. Henri was the central figure of the Ashcan School, which painted American life without prettifying it. Hopper absorbed the directness but not the social energy. His paintings got quieter, more still, more concerned with what people look like when they think nobody is watching.
He went to Paris three times between 1906 and 1910 and came back with Degas and Manet in his head: cropped compositions, angled light, figures caught mid-thought. Then he spent a decade failing commercially, working as an illustrator to pay the bills, and painting watercolours that nobody bought. Success came late. His first solo show was at forty-one.
In 1924 he married Josephine Nivison, a painter who had also studied under Henri. She modelled for nearly every female figure in his paintings, managed his career, and kept detailed records of every work he produced. The marriage was difficult. Both of them had sharp tempers. She engineered his public image as a recluse, which he was, mostly.
Nighthawks, the diner painting, was made in 1942. Jo named it. Hopper admitted he was probably painting the loneliness of a large city, though he was reluctant to say so directly. The diner has no visible door. People have pointed this out for eighty years and nobody has determined whether it was intentional.
Our Features
Designed for Lasting Impact
Specific Features
Every Solis piece is made to order with archival, gallery-quality materials built to last.
- Museum-grade giclée printing for rich, fade-resistant colour
- Archival matte fine-art paper, FSC-certified
- Multiple sizes and framing options available
- Frames in black, natural wood, dark wood or white
- Framed prints arrive ready to hang
Care & Cleaning
To keep your artwork looking its best:
- Dust gently with a soft, dry cloth
- Avoid prolonged direct sunlight
- Never use liquid cleaners on the print or canvas surface
- Keep in a dry, room-temperature space
- Handle prints with clean, dry hands
Materials & Sizing
Museum-grade giclée on FSC-certified archival matte paper, with framed and canvas options.
- Paper sizes: A4, A3, A2, A1, A0 and B2 (50×70 cm)
- Canvas: XS (20×30 cm) to Large (60×90 cm)
- Frames: black, natural wood, dark wood or white
Made to order
Choose your finish
Every piece is printed to order. These are the five finishes, and what makes each one different.
Fine Art Framed
From $89
The same fine art print in a solid wood frame with UV-protective acrylic glaze and rigid backing. Five frame colours. Arrives ready to hang.
Premium Box Frame
From $169
A deeper solid wood frame: 33mm deep with a 20mm face and Perspex glaze. The print sits unmounted for a clean gallery presentation. Black, white or natural.
Canvas
From $59
Hand-stretched canvas with neat gallery-wrapped edges, giving the artwork surface texture and depth. Arrives ready to hang.
Framed Canvas
From $175
Stretched canvas set in a floating wood frame, our most substantial finish. Arrives ready to hang.
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Artist Biography
Edward Hopper
Hopper liked walking around New York at night, looking into lit windows. Room in New York, one of his best paintings, came from doing exactly that: glimpsing a couple in an apartment, not speaking to each other, the woman touching a piano key with one finger. He painted what he saw from the outside.
He grew up in Nyack, a small town on the Hudson River, studied illustration, then moved to Robert Henri's painting class at the New York School of Art. Henri was the central figure of the Ashcan School, which painted American life without prettifying it. Hopper absorbed the directness but not the social energy. His paintings got quieter, more still, more concerned with what people look like when they think nobody is watching.
He went to Paris three times between 1906 and 1910 and came back with Degas and Manet in his head: cropped compositions, angled light, figures caught mid-thought. Then he spent a decade failing commercially, working as an illustrator to pay the bills, and painting watercolours that nobody bought. Success came late. His first solo show was at forty-one.
In 1924 he married Josephine Nivison, a painter who had also studied under Henri. She modelled for nearly every female figure in his paintings, managed his career, and kept detailed records of every work he produced. The marriage was difficult. Both of them had sharp tempers. She engineered his public image as a recluse, which he was, mostly.
Nighthawks, the diner painting, was made in 1942. Jo named it. Hopper admitted he was probably painting the loneliness of a large city, though he was reluctant to say so directly. The diner has no visible door. People have pointed this out for eighty years and nobody has determined whether it was intentional.
He grew up in Nyack, a small town on the Hudson River, studied illustration, then moved to Robert Henri's painting class at the New York School of Art. Henri was the central figure of the Ashcan School, which painted American life without prettifying it. Hopper absorbed the directness but not the social energy. His paintings got quieter, more still, more concerned with what people look like when they think nobody is watching.
He went to Paris three times between 1906 and 1910 and came back with Degas and Manet in his head: cropped compositions, angled light, figures caught mid-thought. Then he spent a decade failing commercially, working as an illustrator to pay the bills, and painting watercolours that nobody bought. Success came late. His first solo show was at forty-one.
In 1924 he married Josephine Nivison, a painter who had also studied under Henri. She modelled for nearly every female figure in his paintings, managed his career, and kept detailed records of every work he produced. The marriage was difficult. Both of them had sharp tempers. She engineered his public image as a recluse, which he was, mostly.
Nighthawks, the diner painting, was made in 1942. Jo named it. Hopper admitted he was probably painting the loneliness of a large city, though he was reluctant to say so directly. The diner has no visible door. People have pointed this out for eighty years and nobody has determined whether it was intentional.
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