Here’s a bold statement: David Hockney, the celebrated artist whose name is synonymous with vibrant creativity, might not be delivering his most groundbreaking work in his latest exhibition. But don’t let that stop you from diving into this review—because even when Hockney isn’t at his peak, he’s still a master worth exploring. And this is the part most people miss: while his early works like Mr and Mrs Clark and Percy are iconic, his recent pieces invite a more nuanced conversation about artistic evolution and the pressure to constantly innovate.
Let’s be clear: David Hockney is a legend. His mastery as a draughtsman and his fearless use of color have defined decades of art. From his iconic Californian swimming pools to his embrace of technology—Polaroids, faxes, and now iPads—Hockney’s career is a testament to his boundless curiosity. He’s not just an artist; he’s a cultural phenomenon, beloved for his optimism and approachable persona. No wonder Annely Juda Fine Art chose him to inaugurate their stunning new London gallery at 16 Hanover Square.
The exhibition, David Hockney: Some Very, Very, Very New Paintings Not Yet Shown in Paris, arrives hot on the heels of his blockbuster retrospective at the Fondation Louis Vuitton and ahead of his upcoming Serpentine Gallery show. It’s a high-profile moment, but does it live up to the hype? The answer is complicated—and here’s where it gets controversial. While the downstairs galleries burst with Hockney’s signature energy—chairs wobbling in empty spaces, flowers exploding like fireworks, and patterns running wild in domestic scenes—some pieces feel rushed, as if dashed off in an afternoon rather than meticulously crafted. For all their color and whimsy, they lack the novelty that once made his work revolutionary.
Upstairs, however, the mood shifts dramatically. Hockney’s iPad-drawn moon landscapes, created in 2020 outside his Normandy studio, offer a serene counterpoint to the downstairs chaos. These nocturnes, bathed in mysterious luminosity, evoke a sense of wonder at nature’s beauty. Yet, there’s a catch: the brilliance of the backlit screen is lost in translation to paper, leaving only a faint echo of their original glow. Is this a flaw in the medium, or a limitation of the artist’s vision? It’s a question worth debating.
For fans of Hockney’s early portraits, his recent prawn-pink renditions of family and friends may feel like a step backward. Imagine if, in the 1960s, his dealer John Kasmin had been presented with the portrait Hockney now paints of him—would he have championed the artist so fiercely? It’s a provocative thought. Unlike some late-career artists who experience a sudden, great flourishing, Hockney’s trajectory has been one of constant reinvention, much like his idol Picasso. This approach has made him Britain’s most famous living artist, but it also means not every piece deserves uncritical praise.
So, is this exhibition worth your time? Absolutely. The two moon rooms alone are worth the visit, and a few works are even for sale—though buying one might feel more like acquiring a commercial souvenir than a masterpiece. Hockney remains a titan of modern art, but this show reminds us that even legends have off days. What do you think? Does Hockney’s latest work deserve a standing ovation, or is it time for a more critical appraisal? Let’s hear your thoughts in the comments!
