Susan Dalgety: Sad farewell to David Hockney – artist with a love of life

So farewell David Hockney, the Bradford-born artist whose career spanned several generations, from the early 1960s to just before he died on Friday, aged 88.

History will judge his place among the greats of the art world, but his work was much loved by the general public.

British painter David Hockney poses at the Orangerie museum in Paris, in 2021, in front of his painting "A year in Normandy"placeholder image
British painter David Hockney poses at the Orangerie museum in Paris, in 2021, in front of his painting "A year in Normandy"

One of his paintings, Mr and Mrs Clark and Percy (a white cat), was featured in the top ten of the 2005 Greatest Painting in Britain Vote, the only work by a living artist.

I have a print of another of his famous “pair” painting, My Parents, hanging on my sitting room wall, and the most expensive book in our flat is David Hockney’s 220 for 2020.

I loved Hockney’s work for his brilliant use of colour. He had synesthesia – a neurological condition where he saw specific colours when he heard music – which must have inspired his use of vibrant shades.

He was a superb draughtsman who didn’t dabble much in abstract art and he embraced technology. He was a pioneer in the use of iPads for painting, and some of this work is quite astonishingly beautiful.

He never really lost his West Yorkshire accent despite long spells in California and London, nor his love of ‘God’s own county’.

From 2009, I spent a few years living half the week in Saltaire, a village on the edge of Bradford where a former textile mill has been converted into a stunning gallery with shops and restaurants.

Hockney was a lifelong friend of Jonathan Salt, the man who converted the mill, and the gallery is now home to the largest permanent collection of his work.

It was a huge privilege to be able to pop down to Salts Mill on a weekday morning for coffee and cake and then have a look at some David Hockneys.

Hockney was once asked what his art “said” to people. “Nothing specific,” he said. “Just love life.”

Every time I look at one of his paintings, whether it is a vase of flowers quickly sketched on his tablet, or his landscapes depicting the East Yorkshire countryside through the seasons, I feel joy.

There can be no greater tribute to an artist, whatever their medium or style, that their work provokes happiness.

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