David Hockney (1937-2026), may he rest in peace, is one of the very, very, few artists I like and admire. He and I seem to be in the minority – in thinking that the main purpose of art is to be a source of joy. There is so much unjoyful art (putting it as kindly and politely as I possibly can!) these days that it makes me cringe, and makes me weary about calling myself an artist – least I be tarnished with the same brush (if you’ll pardon the pun…) and prejudice…
His artwork was far more substance than BS. So many contemporary “artists” are all BS and no substance – indeed this is what “art college” seems to encourage in recent decades – and this is why art is at its worst point in history – at its nadir. They believe it’s all about the concept/idea/s – it doesn’t matter what it looks like or how well executed it is. We totally disagree. Art that would be displayed in no place other than a modern art gallery/museum – because no sane person would have it in their home – is not art at all – its rubbish, pure and simple. Art – that most people who didn’t know who had created it would think it had been created by an unskilled child – is not art at all – its rubbish, pure and simple. Art that only exists in the minds of a very few very “learned” “art critics” (who make their living by bigging-up crap art – and often inventing “meaning” that was never there) – is not art at all – its rubbish, pure and simple…
David Hockney was a very deep thinker, immensely skilled artist, fabulous colourist, unpretentious, and worked all is life doing what he enjoyed doing – exploring new ways of seeing and bringing joy to people. May he rest in peace, and may history bring forth more like him…
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