When I was little, I remember other children at kindergarten being frightened by the sound of my grandfather’s voice.
He had fallen in love with a Māori woman and emigrated from Yorkshire years earlier, but never lost his accent, one that sounded almost theatrical in suburban New Zealand at the time.
“Ee by gum!” he would yell when he came to collect me. “Come on, pet, it’s time to go home!” Children would stare, whisper, and occasionally burst into screams, but to me, he just sounded like grandad.
Years later, when I first heard David Hockney speak, I recognized the voice immediately. Hockney sounded remarkably like my grandfather after a cigarette.
They came from the same part of northern England and shared the same unmistakable cadence. The dry humor. The elongated vowels. Neither of them ever sanded down the edges of their roots. Both men also possessed a particular Yorkshire pragmatism, a distrust of pretension, and an ability to find humor in almost any situation. Neither seemed especially interested in status either, both carrying with them a kind of unceremonious confidence.
Even after becoming one of the most celebrated artists of all time, Hockney never seemed interested in disguising himself, nor was he boastful, even going as far as refusing the honor of being knighted.
“I don’t care for a fuss” he spoke of the occasion.
These familiarities struck me long before I understood the significance of Non-Sir Hockney’s work. Before I knew about the swimming pools, the photo collages, the Yorkshire landscapes, the opera sets, and the iPad drawings, there was simply a voice that felt strangely close to home.
Throughout his life, Hockney remained devoted to the art of looking. Whether working with lithography, photography, painting, digital drawing, or technologies that had barely existed a decade earlier, he approached the world with an enthusiasm that never seemed to diminish, and never will.
Forever looking ahead, he was an artist who rose early so he wouldn’t miss the morning light.
Rest in peace, David Hockney (9 July 1937 – 11 June 2026).
I hope there’s plenty of tea and cigarettes wherever you may be.
The following essay was originally written in 2024 after visiting Perspective Should Be Reversed at the Honolulu Museum of Art, a sweeping survey show that spanned six decades of Hockney’s work supported by the Jordan Schnitzer Family Foundation.
The exhibition has since travelled to the Palm Springs Art Museum, and the Grand Rapids Art Museum in Michigan. It is currently installed at the Portland Art Museum, after which it will travel to the Tampa Museum of Art in Florida, and then to The Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh in the fall of 2027.
Returning to this essay now, I find myself reading it differently. When I was in Honolulu, what stood out to me was Hockney’s extraordinary range of output. What strikes me now, following his passing, is the consistency of what held his attention.
For in my mind, attention is love.
David Hockney. Lithographic Water Made of Lines, Crayon, and Two Blue Washes, 1978 – 1980. Lithograph. Edition of 85. 29 ¾ x 34 in. © David Hockney / Tyler Graphics Ltd
David Hockney stands as one of the most celebrated and prolific artists of all time. With an endlessly versatile oeuvre, he has produced photo collages, paintings, full-scale opera set designs, lithographs, and printed digital works created with specialized, state-of-the art software. Perhaps in one of the most pivotal series of his career, young Hockney first visited California in 1964 and started creating sensual, pastel-hued scenes of idyllic, sunny backdrops, pristine swimming pools, and light filled Hollywood homes. Although many appreciators of Hockney’s career are initially introduced to his wavy, wet centric pieces, Perspective Should Be Reversed navigated audiences across much earlier and much later works created by the delightfully chaotic, then 86 year old artist. It also explored his countless other, equally exuberant works. Hockney’s mission to extrapolate the nature of western art history and its traditions by way of innovating analogue and digital methodologies was celebrated throughout HoMA’s red and blue painted galleries, culminating in a colossal exhibition that celebrated an artist who forever operated ahead of his time.
Throughout over 150 works, Perspective Should Be Reversed offered a glimpse into the artist’s deep exploration of traditional printmaking techniques and utilization of ever advancing technologies. Notably, this exhibition introduced Hockney’s monumental iPad paintings from 2022, with a never before seen unique self portrait, 25th June 2022, Looking at the Flowers, which measures at an astonishing 17 feet high. Next to it hung a collection of 20 digitally painted still life flowers he drew for loved ones throughout the covid pandemic, providing insight into Hockney’s own perspective and material shift as the world evolved towards an unrecognizable reality.
David Hockney’s Perspective Should Be Reversed. November 17, 2023 – March 10, 2024. Honolulu Museum of Modern Art, Hawaii.
Curated by HoMA’s director of curatorial affairs Catherine Whitney, and assistant curator of contemporary art, Katherine Love, the exhibition began with a loosely contoured etching that pays homage to the beautiful land in which the museum stands, as well as the joys of friendship and connectivity, The Marriage in Hawai’i of David and Ann, (1984). During a holiday on Kauai, David Graves, a sculptor and paper restorer, who at one point worked for Hockney as an assistant, and Ann Upton, who had previously modeled for him, saw an advertisement for weddings in the Fern Grotto along the Wailua River, and decided to tie the knot. The couple stand poised for their first kiss as newlyweds, set against a background of hurried vertical lines suggestive of cascading ferns. The outline of Upton’s right foot lovingly overlaps Grave’s tippy toes, hinting at the extra height needed to seal the deal with her towering husband-to-be. Further accentuating the humorous height difference between them, the groom’s neck contorts at an angle running almost parallel to the ground below, seemingly risking the balancing of his hat, all for the sake of love. A faceless, fancily attired character with a tucked frangipani in her ear positions the piece geographically, while granting the matrimonious occasion a solo witness. Turned towards the couple, the enigmatic figure appears on a differing plane. She is smaller, further away, and somewhat sombre in contrast to the happy couple. Turned towards the newlyweds, the enigmatic figure has been interpreted as an embodiment of grief. Her inclusion may allude to the loss of the couple’s son, who had died shortly before the wedding was photographed and later etched by Hockney.
David Hockney. Self Portrait, 1954. Lithograph. The David Hockney Foundation. © David Hockney. Photography by Richard Schmidt
The inclusion of Self-Portrait, a lithograph made at the pivotal age of 17 in 1954, opened a captivating window into Hockney’s formative years while he was studying at Bradford College of Art in West Yorkshire (1953–1957). A young, unbothered boy gazes out with his arms wrapped around himself, rendered in the manner of a classic, internally tortured art student. Both hands cross over a black vest, one clinging to his upper arm, the other cupping his elbow. The exposed sleeves of a white blouse with a severe collar are lined with straw and khaki toned marks indicative of shadows billowing along its seams. With similar accents infiltrating the composition, like the highlighting of his wrists, left jowl and even under his Sir Stanley Spencer inspired glasses, audiences are reminded of Hockney’s specific appeal to playing with theatrical and natural light, more noticeable in paintings made much later in his career. Black and white pinstripes run diagonally down the figure’s uniformal tie, and vertically down a lap of bunched up trousers. Against an intense mustard yellow wallpaper speckled with dark raspberry spots, a classically British cup of tea sits atop a brown dresser and sets the portrait in a domestic space.
Dennis Hopper. Warhol, Geldzahler, Hockney, Goodman. 1963. © Dennis Hopper, Courtesy of The Dennis Hopper Art Trust
Hanging close by was one of Dennis Hopper’s skillfully captured images from his Out of the 60s’ series, (1963). This two-color photolithograph immortalizes a significant gathering at Andy Warhol’s pre-Factory studio, and features luminaries of the era in youthful, toxic joy — David Hockney with a cigarette, Andy Warhol with a match, Henry Geldzahler with a cigar, and a mid-puff Jeff Goodman, partially obscured by a smoke cloud. Published in 1998 by The Estate Project for Artists with AIDS, New York, as part of The Geldzahler Portfolio, the image serves as a poignant reminder of the artistic bonds that defined the tumultuously charged energy of the 1960s. Born in the heartland of Dodge City, Kansas in 1936, Hopper pushed the conventional boundaries of artistic expression, seamlessly weaving his narrative through the diverse mediums of acting, filmmaking, directing and photography. Hopper’s oeuvre bears witness to a profound engagement with Americana, and highlights his acute focus on documenting marginalized denizens of society.
Similarly located at the gallery’s entrance was In the Studio, December 2017 (2018), one of the most prominent photographic drawings featured in the survey. This extraordinary digital creation, comprising over 3,000 amalgamated images, spoiled viewers with an understanding into the artist’s internal and external influences. As his own main character, Hockney features center stage, wearing a distinctive blue and green striped cardigan and clutching a red Bic lighter. The vibrant panoramic scene is cluttered with various furniture pieces, including a large Persian rug, a plush navy armchair, multiple stools and painting easels. The artist’s studio walls have undergone such extensive digital manipulation —warped, skewed, shifted, mirrored, and tilted to such an extent they present a spectacle far beyond the limits of ordinary human perception.
David Hockney. In the Studio, December 2017. Photographic drawing printed on paper, mounted on dibond. Edition of 25. 23 ¾ x 65 ¾ in. © David Hockney, assisted by Jonathan Wilkinson
The work recalls Gustave Courbet’s The Painter’s Studio: (A real allegory summing up seven years of my artistic and moral life), an oil painting made in 1855, which is currently housed in the Musée d’Orsay in Paris. Courbet’s masterpiece serves as an allegorical representation of various influences throughout his life, but unlike Hockney’s features numerous human figures symbolizing the breadth of social statuses, both high and low class, within the Parisian community at the time. The left side of the painting portrays ordinary individuals from French daily life, including a Jewish man and an Irish woman whom the artist encountered during a trip to London in 1848. In contrast, the painting’s right side features numerous elites, including Courbet’s friends like the affluent art collector Alfred Bruyas (1821 - 1877), Romanticist poet Charles Baudelaire (1821 - 1867), and the esteemed art critic and novelist Champfleury (1821 - 1889). Between these two groups Courbet portrays himself painting a landscape, alongside a nude female figure, a young boy, and a white cat. His canvas depicts the Loue River Valley, which paid homage to his native Ornans in the Franche-Comté region of France, where the painting was completed. The female figure, based on a photograph taken in 1854 by J. V. de Villeneuve (1795 - 1866), is interpreted as a symbol of either academia, or as the artist’s muse for Realist paintings.
Gustave Courbet, 1855. Oil on canvas. 142 in × 235 in. Musée d’Orsay, Paris. © RMN-Grand Palais (Musée d’Orsay) / Gérard Blot / Hervé Lewandowski
Initially, Courbet intended to render replicas of his own paintings onto the studio’s rear wall. However, due to time constraints, the project was only partially completed before being concealed. Courbet’s unrealized ambition may have served as one of the inspirations behind Hockney’s own In the Studio, December 2017 which showcases 25 artworks within it, highlighting a mix of his own works, including Garrowby Hill (1998), an oil painting of the Yorkshire-landmark seen placed on a red, blue, and yellow legged easel in the work’s foreground. It also exemplifies the artist’s adeptness at reimagining classical works. Behind Hockney, his painting Tall Dutch Trees After Hobbema (Useful Knowledge) (2017), hangs as a prime example of the artist’s dynamic and innovative fusion of art history. Drawn from the Dutch Golden Age painter Meindert Hobbema‘s The Avenue at Middelharnis, (1689), Hockney’s version transforms numerous individual canvases into one large geometric shape with rounded, almost altar-like contours. This approach highlights the horizon’s significance and symmetry, while injecting new energy into the composition. Hockney’s inclusion of this piece similarly pays homage to the lasting impact of Hobbema’s painting, which notably inspired later artists like Vincent Van Gogh (1853 - 1890), and Camille Pissarro (1830 - 1903). This enduring dialogue between artists across generations reveals Hockney’s conviction that perspective is never fixed, but continually reshaped through looking, borrowing, and reimagining.
Continued in: For David Hockney, Attention Was Love - Part 2









A beautiful tribute and strong first post. I love your reflection since covering the Honolulu show in 2024. I’m so happy you got to meet him.