Realising I knew relatively little about Hockney’s recent work, or
really anything beyond his Californian splash paintings, I went to David Hockney:
A Bigger Picture, an exhibition at the Royal Academy earlier this year. A long,
snaking queue of patient and impatient Londoners and tourists, which ran out of
the entrance doors and halfway into the gallery’s stately courtyard, gave a
good idea of the considerable media attention attracted by the show.
The exhibition opens with four paintings from the late 1990s, each
treating the same country scene at four different seasonal points in the year.
Three large trees dominate the relatively simply composition, with a small road
in the bottom left corner and a grassy slope to the right. Standing before the
summer version of this view me and my dad agreed that although there were
certain pleasing and evocative details to the painting - the shading under one
of the trees creating an inviting glen, the road adding a subtle sense of
narrative - the different elements in
the composition were treated in such a way that they did not complement one
another or combine to make a complex and evocative landscape so much as sit
starkly beside one another without visual coherence or communication.
Three Trees Near Thisendale: Summer 2007
Three Trees Near Thixendale: Winter, 2007
Unfortunately, I found this to be the case with several of Hockney's
landscapes shown at the RA exhibition. Many among them appeared to be
studiously 'different' or unconvincing in their use of colour, like artistic
experiments which might perhaps had been better left in the studio. Some among
them were notably more effective than others however: Hockney’s Woldgate Woods series for example included
some particularly effective pieces with some excellently and beautifully
rendered light effects.
Woldgate Woods 7th and 8th November, 2006
However, what was of special note in this exhibition was its marking of a
recent and striking change to the artistic process of the contemporary painter:
rather than sketching in books and on paper, Hockney uses an iPad to record his
impressions of the landscape. What does this mean for artistic practice in the
future, more particularly, for the future of painting? Following the
development of photography and cinema, the mimetic function of painting at
least was superseded, if its quality and value as a means of expression was not,
perhaps, rendered obsolete. But what does it mean when the painter’s customary processes
are implemented through screen-based media and comparable painterly effects are
achieved? A few days previously to seeing the show I had visited my aunt,
who herself has recently acquired an iPad. Certainly drawing on it is not easy,
and requires skill. But then again, erroneous marks can be instantly erased;
compositions saved, effortlessly transported and returned to; different hues
tried out and rejected without trace of their ever being there. Whereas the RA
put little emphasis on the use of this medium (the final iPad sketches were
blown up and displayed on the gallery walls so that they were only
distinguishable from paintings through a closer examination of the thickness of
the supports), clearly, an entirely different process is involved.
Sketchbooks (real, tangible sketchbooks of card and paper) were
displayed on screen with a rather tacky page-turning graphic which took the
viewer through the pages. Although the alternative can be irritating – to see
only one selected page of a sketchbook that is tantalisingly inaccessible in
its glass case – I wondered what exactly I was looking at up on the screen.
Certainly more information was given, but is that all we need from an
exhibition? If we are provided only with screened content, why come to the show
in the first place? The reproduction of his sketches as seen on the screen in
the exhibition might only be minutely different to their reproduction on our
laptop or computer screens at home. The ‘art object’ of the sketchpad, through
its digitalisation, is transformed into a sort of tablet through which drawings
pass but do not reside: a new way in which technology might question our
conceptions of the medium of painting. As such, the exhibition had the potential
to open wider debate and critical reflection on the convergence of painting and
new technologies, which I felt the curators of the show could have exploited further,
rather than focussing as they did on the artist’s attachment to landscape.
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