234: RIP David Hockney

Who's art makes us who we are?

I credit David Hockney for my mismatched socks.

And how I prefer to see the world.

November 1983 - David Hockney ate dinner, and was allowed to smoke indoors at my parent’s house (he smoked Gitanes) 😆

It’s the fall of 1983.

I was a teenage rebel who despised matching socks, and hated an organized sock drawer even more.

My mother and I were at loggerheads, daily, about important issues like this.

Isn’t this how we’re all formed? In the cauldron of our parent’s expectations?

Well, one evening we had a guest for dinner at our Golden Valley home: The legendary artist David Hockney. He passed away, age 88, last week. The Guardian has a lovely write up. There are so many fantastic quotes and anecdotes from a life lived extremely well - you should keep any eye out for them. A favorite: “How do you paint memorable pictures?”

Anyway, David was in town collaborating with my father, then in his 16th season as Music Director of Minnesota Opera, on “Hockney at The Opera,” via the Walker Art Center, a re-imagination of “Hockney Paints the Stage.” Hockney spent six weeks in the Twin Cities that fall, exploring his ideas and painting sets. They performed three shows using his sets in December 1983 and January 1984.

Via the Walker Art Center: Large scale painted environment with separate elements based on the set design for Poulenc's opera, Les Mamelles de Tirésias (The Breasts of Tirésias)

(Background) LeRoy Lehr, Emma Small, James McKeel, Linda Wilcox, and Dan Dressen sang under (foreground) Philip Brunelle’s music direction. Vern Sutton served as Stage Director and Master of Ceremonies.

Hockney was the artist who revealed a way of looking at things — perspectives, time, choreography of a scene. He didn’t adhere to the status quo. He exhibited respect for form and color, and a willingness to throw it out and start over. He wasn’t clinical, but he had exquisite craft. And he was prodigious, unafraid to ship work continuously.

In this period of the late 80s, Hockney picked up a Polaroid camera, then a Pentax 110 and reinvented the notion of photography for people like myself.

Pearblossom Hwy 11-18 April 1986, No. 1 - used photography to reimagine the concept of painting. At least, that what I thought.

He taught us how to see with fresh eyes.

And how to dress.

As Vogue quotes the artist, “most people don’t look.” And if that’s the case, the artist might as well assemble a wardrobe that provokes. Hockney wore yellow Crocs to meet with King Charles.

Which brings us back to the socks.

We’re sitting in the living room with Hockney many decades ago. It doesn’t matter what the adults are talking about because I’ve just noticed something critical – the guest of honor’s socks don’t match!

(Also, my parents let Hockney smoke indoors.)

After a few attempts I finally get my dear Mum to pay attention.

To look.

To see that Hockney doesn’t bother to match his socks, so why should I? And of course she can’t believe that’s all I’ve noticed, shakes her head and mouths the word, “FINE.” Fine! I’ve won! David Hockney has released me from the suffrage of matching socks.

And opened my brain up to realize there are so many wonderful ways to look at what’s around us, and see something different.

Thank you, dear artist.

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