Let’s be clear: David Hockney is an artistic titan. His mastery of line and color, his ability to capture the essence of a moment (think those iconic Californian pools), and his relentless embrace of new technologies—from Polaroids to iPads—all cement his status as a legend. But here’s where it gets controversial: while Hockney’s genius is undeniable, his latest exhibition at Annely Juda Fine Art in London leaves us wondering if every brushstroke deserves unbridled praise.
Annely Juda’s decision to launch their new Hanover Square space with Hockney’s Some Very, Very, Very New Paintings Not Yet Shown in Paris feels fitting. Sandwiched between a blockbuster retrospective at the Fondation Louis Vuitton and an upcoming Serpentine Gallery show, this exhibition introduces his freshest works alongside iPad-drawn nocturnal landscapes. Yet, despite the fanfare, the results are mixed.
And this is the part most people miss: Hockney’s recent acrylics, with their wonky chairs and explosive floral arrangements, feel more like playful experiments than profound statements. Upstairs, his iPad-created moonlit scenes offer a serene contrast, but the transition from screen to print dulls their ethereal glow. It’s a reminder that not every innovation translates perfectly across mediums.
Hockney’s lifelong obsession with challenging perspective—bending lines outward instead of inward—is intellectually fascinating. But after decades of this visual argument, it risks feeling repetitive. Worse, some pieces appear hastily executed, lacking the depth of his earlier masterpieces. Compare these to his iconic portraits like Mr and Mrs Clark and Percy, and the difference is stark. Even his portraits of friends and family now feel less inspired, more like pale imitations of his former brilliance.
Here’s the truth: Hockney’s career hasn’t followed the typical late-blooming arc of some artists. Like Picasso, he’s constantly reinvented himself, earning his place as Britain’s most celebrated living artist. But does that mean every work warrants adoration? Absolutely not. While this exhibition has its moments—particularly the moon rooms—it’s a reminder that even legends can produce work that feels secondary.
So, is this show worth seeing? Absolutely. Hockney’s talent is undeniable, and a few pieces are genuinely captivating. But if you’re buying, remember: you’re not acquiring the Hockney of old. You’re purchasing a memento of a legend, not necessarily a masterpiece. Thought-provoking question for you: Can an artist’s legacy ever overshadow the quality of their current work? Let’s debate in the comments!
