July 9, 1937– David Hockney has always made a big splash at my house.
“The moment you cheat for the sake of beauty, you know you’re an artist.”
I currently reside in Portland, Oregon, the West Coast Brooklyn to Seattle’s Manhattan. A year ago, a special exhibit at The Portland Art Museum in partnership with Portland Opera and The David Hockney Foundation: David Hockney: A Rake’s Progress. I enjoyed a fun date with my husband to see it and we went on Hockney’s birthdate. Cool, huh? I mentioned our opera company and art museum, trying to prove to you kids that there is more to Portland than beards, beer and bicycles, although I am a fan of all that.
He was already a noted and accomplished painter in his native England, but Hockney’s style, point of view, and medium changed (from oils to acylics) when he moved to LA, a city he had fantasized about since childhood. Hockney:
“Within a week of arriving there in this strange big city, not knowing a soul, I’d passed the driving test, bought a car, driven to Las Vegas and won some money, got myself a studio, started painting, all within a week. And, I thought, it’s just how I imagined it would be.”
Portrait Of An Artist (Pool With 2 Figures) 1972
Hockney’s best work has a crazy energy and brashness. He uses color and line with moxie. The Hockney that I love best is the late 1960s-1970s painter of sunny California skies, swimming pools, palm trees and boys. His work in this period seems to me to be a modernist painterly slant on color Polaroids and snapshots from the life I was brushing up against when I attended college in LA from 1972-76. I actually attended an all-boy pool party at a famous producer’s home in the Hollywood Hills and Hockney was one of the guests. I couldn’t believe it! There he was, wearing a red baseball cap over his shaggy blonde hair, beige baggy pants, a yellow and red striped shirt with a white collar and yellow striped tie, a yellow watchband, red socks and white Jack Purcell’s. Perched on his proper English nose were his trademark round spectacles. He was holding a sketch book and a Polaroid camera. He was alone and mostly ignored by the parade of boys.
We did not speak to each other. I was at this event as the host’s special guest and I was careful not to overstep the bounds of propriety, but we did make eye contact. I like to think that if we had spoken, Hockney would have liked me and I might have become the subject of one his works, possibly the beginning of a series of “Hairy Boy” pieces.
When I asked our host if Hockney might desire some attention, he told me that the artist was not so much reticent, as always working, spending most of his time in his studio in Santa Monica, and that Hockney was always thinking and planning. He explained that Hockney balanced a hedonistic side; enjoying attending his parties, but the famous artist almost always left an event to rush back to his studio rather than to his house in Nicholas Canyon. Our host thought I would be amused to know that Hockney had a sign at the door of his studio that read:
“Thank You For Pot Smoking”
Hockney has always been openly gay and has always enjoyed a variety of relationships with men. With a series of boyfriends, he never married. Hockney describes himself as a “playboy”.
He has had a lifelong fascination with using new technology to make pictures. Hockney’s current work, mostly landscapes, are sketched and then translated onto the screen of his iPad. He uses a drawing app, giving him accessibility to draw at his leisure in any location at any time, without the need of additional materials or supplies. Hockney’s fingertips have replaced his paintbrushes. Hockney:
“It’s all drawing. It’s a new medium for drawing, the iPad, it’s like an endless sheet of paper.”
He is absolutely one of my husband’s and my favorite artists, and although I would love to own one of his paintings (they sell in the millions), as a lowly old gentleman of limited means, I remain content with my Hockney “coffee table” books, including one by the artist that features paintings of his dachshunds, David Hockney’s Dog Days, and postcards of his work. I also own and highly recommend the two volumes of biography by Christopher Simon Sykes: David Hockney: The Biography, 1937-1975 and David Hockney: The Biography, 1975-2012. I also have gotten a lot out of True To Life: 25 Years of Conversations With David Hockney by Lawrence Weschler.
These biographies and even his own diaries show Hockney to be exasperatingly egotistical and positively petulant. I admire that in artist. He is also fiercely pro-smoking. What a great cause in this PC age. He absolutley loathes anti-smoking laws:
“They are dreary, absolutely dreary… You get rid of smoking and they are all on anti-depressant pills. They say smoking is bad for you, but they used to say the same about wanking.”
Hockney is one of the most successful artists in history, with a personal fortune of more than 70 million. His David Hockney Foundation has holdings of his work worth at least 125 million dollars. Gay writer Christopher Isherwood owned the most important private collection of his work. In the 1990s, Isherwood’s partner of 33+ years, Don Bachardy, donated the collection to the foundation.
Besides The Portland Art Museum, Hockney’s work can be viewed in person at great museums around the globe, including: Boston Museum Of Fine Arts, National Gallery Of Australia, Art Institute Of Chicago, National Portrait Gallery and The Tate in London, LAs’ J. Paul Getty Museum and Los Angeles County Museum Of Art, Museum Of Contemporary Art in LA (Hockney was one of the founders in 1979), Metropolitan Museum Of Art and Museum Of Modern Art in NYC, Centre Georges Pompidou in Paris, Philadelphia Museum Of Art, De Young Museum in San Francisco, and The Smithsonian American Art Museum in Washington DC. You might say that Hockney is well-hung.
Be sure to check out Hockney, the new entertaining documentary by Randall Wright.
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