From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
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Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
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The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
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But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
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A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
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In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
From the small screen, to the large scale - and extended – immersive installation of Bigger & Closer (not smaller & further away) come a wave of exhibitions focusing on the intimate works of David Hockney. They are not efforts to consider anew someone long canonised in contemporary British art. Instead, they are symbols of institutions pandering to what is perceived to be popular (and profitable), rather than stepping up to the role of a museum, to represent realities more widely, and to take risks.
Love Life is taken from the artist’s own words, drawing from his optimistic outlook on the arrival of spring, whether from his childhood in Yorkshire in northern England, or his current residence in Normandy, and his own ageing, at 86 years old. This (private) collection of drawings produced from 1963 to 1977 are considered as evidence of how he celebrates his surrounding environments. In following his approach, the close observations of the seemingly mundane, we might find more interesting details too.
‘Christopher Isherwood’s House Santa Monica’ (1966) is no more than it says; its story, though, is connected with its current home in Charleston, a place steeped in queer history. The artist first met the émigré English author in Los Angeles, where he was considered ‘gay royalty’. A self-exile of Nazi Germany, Isherwood is best known for his Berlin Stories (1945), the basis of the musical Cabaret, which debuted on Broadway in the same year Hockney penned his drawing.
The Arabic script of the matchbox depicted is translated for the title, a product of the artist’s travels to Egypt in 1963 under the auspices of The Sunday Times. He produced around 40 drawings during his journeys through Cairo, Alexandria, and Luxor, though few have been seen in public. The article planned to accompany his works was cancelled following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy, another link back to back his beloved America.
Closed by COVID, Drawing from Life returns from its first short run at the National Portrait Gallery in London in much the same form (restrictions on photographs, and access to the Foundation’s works, apply here too). A sur-£20-ticket permits us to stand amongst the celebrities – notably, Harry Styles – in keeping with the Gallery, and the capital’s possession over post-war British artists, from Lucien Freud to Francis Bacon.
But there are subtleties to be found here too. In the room devoted to Laura Hockney, The Artist’s Mother, we find the widest range of media. (In the side rooms, the curators insert women into Hockney’s historical narrative) Her individual person is represented in its plurality, with three works diverse in style, as she ages from a young mother to an older woman. We learn of Laura and David’s relationship as something more equal, both each other’s ‘confidante and muse’. The latter’s depictions informed by the ‘intimate, domestic narratives’ of impressionism.
A Rake’s Progress, a series produced from 1961 to 1963, connects Hogarth’s historic depictions of 18th century, to contemporary homelessness, and alcohol consumed in (more American) bars. It’s a semi-autobiographical series – perhaps de facto self-portraits - of a young gay man’s journey and understanding their identity in New York City. It makes thin political references to Vladimir Lenin; elsewhere, we find Walt Whitman, ‘the vegetarian’ Mahatma Gandhi (as, too, was his mother), and of course, Vincent van Gogh.
But it is Pablo Picasso who looms largest over this exhibition, the France-based Spaniard artist whom Hockney so adored. In many works, including ‘Artist and Model’ (1973-1974), the aspirant artist paints himself into art history, often in the striped shirt of his hero - in 1973 he also moved to Paris, the same year of Picasso’s death.
In the two-way flows so typical of culture, we can travel to these boundary regions, not back, but towards Hockney’s contemporary canonisation in the Basque Country and Spain. He currently leads the ‘micro-exhibitions’ of BBKateak at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum, a programme of face-to-face interactions between two artists and their work, often creating unexpected connections over times, cultures, and geographies.
As in London, the artist doesn’t shy from his idolatry; The Blue Guitar portfolio (1976-1977) begins with the line from Hockney, ‘who was inspired by Wallace Stevens, who was inspired by Pablo Picasso.’ More interesting is the connection drawn with Alfonso Gortázar, who also reflects on the profession of painting – and has a similar penchant for yellow-coloured clothes.
It’s reflected too in their models of display. Varietés, the latest project by the artist Eduardo Sourrouille on show at the nearby Sala Rekalde, features walls plastered with his daily self-portraits on paper, a practice common to both artists. In Hockney’s case, we find some of these works in charcoal at the National Portrait Gallery, a process undertaken for two months in response to the HIV/AIDS crisis in 1983.
Hockney’s global contemporaries often reference the artist’s practice; to the artists, curators, and marketers, it proves a point of access and relatability to Western/European audiences. Japanese illustrators Nagai Hiroshi and Moto Hideyasu (and Suzy Amakane) draw from Hockney in their use of trompe l’oeil optical illusions, and plethora of swimming pools. Their national institutions have well-represented Hockney, and hold permanent collections weighted towards post-/impressionist art, pedestalling his idol, van Gogh.
Zahoor ul Akhlaq and Gulammohammed Sheikh arrived in 1960s London from different cities in South Asia, first ‘fired up’ and painting in the image of Hockney and R.B. Kitaj. Daily encounters with the Indian miniatures paintings at the Victoria & Albert Museum, through which they walked on their way to the Royal College of Art, enabled them to ‘rediscover’ and translate their heritage in contemporary art and education back on the subcontinent. These works – and their curation - encourage us to consider the many, plural influences of an artwork or artist.
David Hockney: Love Life is on view at Charleston in Firle until 10 March 2024.
David Hockney: Drawing from Life is on view at the National Portrait Gallery in London until 21 January 2024.
Hockney – Gortázar is part of the BBKateak programme at the Bilbao Fine Arts Museum (Museo de Belles Artes de Bilbao) in the Basque Country which, it its different iterations, is on view during the Museum’s full redesign.
