David Hockney
In memory and with gratitude
David Hockney’s 1972 painting, Portrait of an Artist (Pool with Two Figures) sold in 2018 for $90 million USD, making it the most expensive artwork by a living artist sold at auction. The price someone is willing to pay for a piece of art has nothing to do with its actual value. It’s supply and demand, but bad work can fetch enormous prices and great work can go unnoticed, and often has. Much of the art world is smoke and mirrors. That said, this is a spectacular painting. If any painting is worth that amount, surely this is it. It’s an incredible gift to humanity.
I woke up at 4:00 yesterday for a kayaking session, and a text from my buddy Dennis was waiting for me. David Hockney had passed away. I felt a bit of sadness, but nothing too traumatic. I sensed I’d be reflecting on Hockney, on his work and the affect it’s had on me, and I started getting ready for the day. As I kayaked, I kept thinking of Hockney. I thought of his tremendous influence, the joy he shared and inspired. I thought of his documentary, which I’ve watched many times. I thought about how he seemed like a sensitive and gentle human. I’ve always gravitated to gentle people.
By the time I got off the water, I thought I’d like to write a short post about Hockney.
In 2021, I got a text from my buddy Paul that Wayne Thiebaud had passed away. I was driving to my friend’s house in Seal Beach, California at the time. I pulled over and parked, and started sobbing. Thiebaud was 101, so his death wasn’t a big surprise. He was my favorite artist, the one who influenced my own work the most. I was lucky enough to meet him once, but I didn’t know him. So why be that sad?
It’s an odd thing to be truly sad over the death of someone you don’t know. Although I wasn’t moved to tears by David Hockney’s passing, I feel sadness and a loss. Thiebaud and Hockney were famous artists, and our society foolishly celebrates fame, but it wasn’t their fame that made me feel connected.
Art hasn’t been my whole life, but close. It’s given me more than I could’ve imagined, so much joy, intellectual engagement, friendships, and even a living. All of this has come from “standing on the shoulders of giants.” Thiebaud and Hockney were two of those giants. My sadness is merely gratitude for the gift of their work.
David Hockney has often, maybe even usually, been described as a Pop Artist. This has never made sense to me. His work is incredibly not Pop. However, the same mistake was made, at the same time, about Wayne Thiebaud. He too was thrown into the Pop camp by the powers that be, and he spent the rest of his years not only disavowing it, but made it clear he didn’t even care for Pop Art.
The reality is that Hockney’s work defies categorization. He explored so many styles and themes. As a painter, there’s so much to explore and learn from his work. Like Thiebaud, he was one of the best colourists and draftsman in history. His paintings had the ability to balance the playful and profound, stillness and dynamic. His drawings are simply exquisite.
Hockney’s work gives us so much. There’s so much there there. He spoke extensively about looking closer, and he makes us look closer and deeper at his work and the world around us.
Hockney created thousands of works over a sixty-plus year career and we’re very lucky for the gifts and works he shared with us.
Farewell and thank you, Mr. Hockney.
Beautiful