All language subtitles for David Hockenetr

Get it around there.
Just turn it around.

That's it. Bring that
around. There. That's nice.

Wait. Let me check this.
Let me turn the brush.

There. Good.

David came to the college
with this pinstriped suit
and a high starch

collar and a very thin
little tie and this
pudding bowl haircut.

And I said to myself,
"My God, look at the
state of this fella."

I said, "He's like a Russian
peasant. A right Boris."

You know those crinkly chippers?

You see, he had a
crinkly chipper, when
chips used to be straight.

He always had bloody theories
about everything, you know.

"Here, well, there's
more surface area. It
makes a better chip."

[Indistinct chatter]

[John] He had a need to
have a guiding theory.

When he decided he'd hit
on the right one, it was like

someone who'd suddenly seen
the light in a new religion.

And you'd tend to dread
meeting him and be
subjected to it again.

[Chatter subsides]

[Ed] It was always
easy to get him on the
subject of cigarettes.

I asked him what he thought
about this billboard over
on Santa Monica Boulevard.

Right away, he says, uh,

"Well, I should rent the
billboard across the street that

would tell the number of people
who died of other causes."

[Celia] I think he was a bit in
love with me for a while.

I do think that's true.
And I remember wearing
this suit in San Francisco

and going up to Nob Hill,
which is a very steep slope.

And he said, "Celia,

those trousers from the back.

I don't think you look
your best in those."

And I never wore them again.

[Mark] We had this polar bear
white carpet, and he
was doing some ink

drawings on the floor, and he
got a spot of ink on the carpet.

And my father got hysterical.

I said, "Dad, we should have
him sign it. It'll be worth
millions in a couple of years."

[Somber music]

[Lively chatter;
Children play]

[Siren wails in distance]

[Percussive shake reverberates]

[Music continues]

[Seagulls caw]

[Air-raid siren wails]

[Hockney] We go under the
stairs, a little cupboard
to hide under the stairs.

When the bomb drops on
the street, my mother screams.

If she screams, you scream.

I mean, you're very frightened
if your mother's frightened.

[Music continues]

So it's something I've
always remembered.

And actually, so had all
my brothers and sister.

It's the first...
First memory I have. Yeah.

[Music subsides;
Lively chatter]

[Hockney] I was born in 1937,

and I do remember the
end of the Second World War.

I was brought up with rationing.

They didn't end rationing
till I was 16 years old.

So, you couldn't just go
buy a bar of chocolate.

You could only buy sweets
Saturday morning when you
got your pocket money.

You'd be given it at 9:00, and
the sweets had gone by 9:15.

You'd have bought them and
eaten them, and that was it.

And you'd have to wait
till another Saturday.

I mean, I was brought up
in austerity, like, and that.

On the other hand, we didn't
feel poor. Life was interesting.

You know, I mean, you're
a kid, so life is interesting.

Uh, whether you'd
much money or not.

It's always interesting
to children in that way.
It should be anyway.

Um, and it was to my father.

I mean, he... he wasn't a very
sophisticated man in many ways.

I mean, he was a
bit puritanical for me.

But he had a heart.

I mean, he cared about
people and felt there should
be justice in the world.

I mean, he was
political that way.

The one thing I loved...

My father could paint the line
on a crossbar of a bicycle
using a special long brush.

He'd rest your finger on
the top,

and then you do it without
a ruler, you see, like a
sign writer would.

But to watch it done
without a ruler was very
thrilling, I thought.

Incredible that you can
make a straight line like
that, just with your eye.

I mean, it's like watching
Michelangelo draw a circle.

[Sprightly, psychedelic music]

[Man] Why are you popular?

What is it, do you
think, in your work that
goes straight through

to the understanding
and feelings of a large
number of people?

- Well, I'm not that sure.
- Go on. Try.

Of course, I'm interested in
ways of looking

and trying to
think of it in simple ways.

If you can communicate that,
of course, people will respond.

Everybody does look.

Um, it's just a question
of how hard they're
willing to look, isn't it?

[Music continues]

[Music concludes]

[Arthur] We were at a restaurant
and somehow the subject came up
of David's failings and faults.

Henry took the napkin and
wrote just like that, as
fast as you please.

It was so funny. I picked it up,
and I've saved it ever since.

It started out
"stubborn." Then "hard of
hearing" was the next one.

"Generous to a fault."

Uh, "Emotional in
the guise of reason."

And "often overhardy."

And he's written in parentheses,
"walking and bathing."

[He chuckles]

And, uh, oh, the other one
is, which he's written is
"unintentionally rude."

And he's underlined
"unintentionally" twice.

I think it's a really good
description of David.

I've saved it forever.

[Hockney] One of the things
that my father taught me

was not to worry too much
what the neighbors think.

Well, that's aristocratic,
actually, not working class.

That's aristocratic. I mean,

"Fuck you. I don't care
what the neighbors think."

And my mother would have cared.

But Kenneth told me that.

"Don't you worry too much
what the neighbors think."

And I always thought... I
took that lesson, actually.
Yeah, I noticed it.

[Bustling street noise]

[Colin] When he was at Bradford
Art School, he was in an
evening class, life drawing,

and there was a guy, a bit
of a sort of rocker or
something, and he had an art

student girlfriend, probably
with that sort of witch-type
mascara that was about then.

They were real art students
and there was the schoolboy,
you see, intensely drawing.

And he said this guy was
just like this on his thing

and sort of putting his feet
up on the donkey, you know,

and all this, and just spent
two hours taking the piss

out of Hockney for being
so earnest and just drawing.

And the girlfriend was laughing,
and the model was laughing.

And I said, "What did you
do?" He just said, "Well..."

He said, "Well, I just thought,
"Well, I'll fucking show them.'"

And he had revealed
the inner David, you know.

Willpower.

[Upbeat rock 'n' roll music]

[Music continues;
Lively chatter]

Nobody was there when I
arrived at the Royal College.

And I just sort of got a cubicle
they appointed me and I laid out

my stuff and then suddenly
this very strange-looking
guy walks in.

And doesn't say a word,
just starts setting up in
the cubicle next to me.

Then Derek Boshier came
in and took up the
cubicle on the other side.

So there was Derek on my left,
and David on my right and me

in the middle, and we
became quite friendly
after a few weeks.

He was living in a little
hut in Earl's Court, and I

went there once or twice,
but it was not very large.

It barely fit the
two of us in there.

[Upbeat rock 'n' roll music]

[Mark] London in the '60s
was becoming very hip,

very different,
also very anti-establishment.

The atmosphere that I sensed

in the cubicles that
were surrounding me

- was of experimentation.
- [Music fades]

They wanted to experiment,
to find something
different than what

they knew, and they weren't even
sure what that was going to be.

I think they were interested
in America, definitely.

But, strangely enough, I
think it was the abstract
expressionist painters and the

anti-traditionalism of those
artists that really intrigued
the British painters.

[Melancholy music]

[Hockney] The main thing
then was abstraction.

The abstract expressionists
were very big, and so

by the end of my second
year, I went to New York.

[Music continues, siren wails]

[Hockney] Somebody stopped me
in the street and said they
had this ticket for New York.

And it cost £40.

And all I had to give them
was £10 now and I could have
it if I gave the £30 later.

I thought it cost
£1,000 to go to America.

I mean, I'd never thought
of going to America.

So, um, I said okay.

I only had about £12, but
I thought, "Well, I'll
get the money somehow."

I think almost the next
day this letter came
with a check for £100.

I'd won a prize.

And then I started selling
pictures for £10, 12, £15.

In the end, I went
to America with...

about $350.

And that was to last
me for two months.

[Music continues;
Cacophonous street noise]

[Hockney] I had a great time
in New York then.

I thought New York
was the place to be.

That was it, I thought.

I mean, it ran 24 hours a
day then. Absolutely did.

[Music continues, siren wails]

[Woman] ...putting whipped
cream on your head.

But this is Lady
Clairol Whipped Creme.

It makes every bleach I've
ever used old-fashioned.

[Man] It's the fabulous new
way to be blonde, beautifully.

Lady Clairol hair
lightener whips instantly,
never runs or drips.

[Mark] I was living in
my parents' home in Long
Island in Long Beach.

Friends of mine and David
were all in my house one
evening watching television.

- [Music subsides]
- And this ad came on.

I don't even remember
what we were watching.

But this ad came on for Clairol,
and saying, you know,

everybody should go blonde
because blondes have more fun.

And they all looked at
it and they said, "Wow.
That sounds good."

And they rushed out and bought
Clairol hair dye, and they

were all sitting in my parents'
living room dying their hair.

My father walked in and
almost had a heart attack.

You know, "What the
hell is going on here?"

But that's where David decided
he was gonna be blonde
for the rest of his life.

Is he still blonde?

[Jaunty music]

[Music concludes]

[Lively chatter]

Lovely, aren't they?

You can drop 'em on a stone
floor and pick 'em up again.

Eight pieces.

Give me eight and
six for the half a dozen.

Eight shillings, half a dozen!

[Ruminative music]

Right.

[Indistinct conversation]

[Music continues]

[Music continues]

[Margaret] He was always
drawing, always, as long
as I can ever remember.

When he had little
stubby fingers, he'd
be drawing something.

And he never stopped.
And we didn't have paper
like you have today,

but you've got the edge
of notebooks and things or...

anything where there was
a space... a bus ticket, even.

So if you were on a bus,
he'd have a pencil in his hand

probably drawing other
passengers, things like that.

[Music continues]

[Fryer sizzles]

[Music continues]

[Sewing machine rattles]

- The weight. Oh,
yeah. Wow, the weight.
- [Music concludes]

- When you think now, you
can get it on Kindle, can't you?
- [She laughs]

Yeah.

Ah, yes, this is
the sort of thing.

He would have been all excited
about "who's done these?" and
"why have they done them?"

And, I mean, brilliant,
especially when you go back
with the history as well.

So, yes, this would
have influenced him.

You see, this was the
only way you could see
the world, wasn't it?

I mean, there was
Cartwright Hall in Bradford
with some pictures.

By looking at pictures, he would
realize, "I can do what I like."

Once you've seen
these, can't you?

And it would give him
the freedom to be an
artist and be an artist

who painted exactly what
he wanted to paint, what
he needed to paint.

He'd be looking at these and
looking at the techniques
and why they did...

He'd see it totally with
his eye, which would be

quite different to what
the rest of us would see.

"Badges."

- [Man] "Good health is worth
more than a fortune."
- [Badges rustle]

Put those in the car.

- [Man 2] You're gonna
take them?
- [Man] Yep.

Do you remember the hens on
the field up here before
they built the houses?

- Oh, you'd only be
ever so young.
- [Hockney] Oh, yes. On...

Well, I have that
somewhere. It's framed.

Did you see anything, Margaret?

No, I can't find
those cuff links.

[Margaret] We used to live in
Steadman Terrace during the war.

It was a small
house and closed in.

It was claustrophobic,
actually, yes.

And there were five
of us. All right, we were

only small, so that
didn't matter too much.

And it was at the top of a
hill and if it was dark, you
couldn't see a thing anywhere.

There was a lot of darkness from
that house in my memory, so
probably the same with David.

But I think the claustrophobia
could have been a bit of
emotional as well as space wise.

I know he always
says he likes space.

But you do need space from
people as well, don't you?

In fact, that is what
space is, isn't it, actually?

What else is space? Being alone.

[Music - "L-O-V-E"
by Nat King Cole]

* "L" is for the way
you look at me

* "O" is for the
only one I see... *

[Hockney] Within one
week of coming here, I'd
never driven before.

I'd got a driving license,
bought a car, got a studio
and got a living.

I thought, "This is the place."

It's got all the energy of
the United States with the

Mediterranean thrown
in, which I think is a
wonderful combination.

[Sprightly music]

[Betty] David took
some snapshots.

He took Polaroids of me standing
in front of the barroom.

And I was dusting some of
the heads, 'cause I had a
lot of animal heads.

- My first husband was
a great white hunter.
- [Gunshot reverberates]

And David only took about
three black and white Polaroids.

I said, "David, how can you
work from black and white?"

"Oh," he said, "I can only work
from black and white photographs

because the color of photography
is never the same as real life."

Anyway, so he took the pictures
and I said, "There's only

one thing you could call this
painting, since I'm dusting."

It's called "Beverly
Hills Housewife".

[Music continues]

[Music continues]

[Sprinklers chitter]

[Music concludes, seagull caws]

Some people will say, well,
LA is a good place to hide.

You can cull out a private life
here for yourself if you wish,
and a lot of people do that.

- Because of the kind of setup
of the city and everything.
- [Helicopter blades whir]

People don't walk
here. They take cars.

And David's had this
place here for many years.

But he wasn't part
of a community like
Venice or downtown LA.

But he just managed to get
around, uh, all over the city.

And, uh, I know that he
would like to go out on
rides, you know, driving

way out in the country,
and I think he's done
that several times too.

- I'll be there.
- [Man, on phone] Okay.

A guy came. He was asking
about you earlier. He may
try to reach you.

- [Hockney] All right, love.
Bye.
- [Man] See you later.

[Boy] My daddy promised me a
horse all for myself when
I got here from back east.

He said a boy needs a horse
to love, and if it's
the right boy,

the horse will learn
to love him too.

[Adventuresome orchestral music]

- [Man] There he is.
Boy, he's a beauty.
- [Horse whinnies]

No wonder he's the
king of the wild herd.

I've just gotta get him today.

That's for sure, Bob. We can't
disappoint that kid of yours.

[Man 2] He's coming in
on the 459...

[Hockney] When I arrived here,
somebody said,

"Well, why have you come
to this cultural desert?"

Well, I didn't think it was
a cultural desert because I
knew Hollywood was here.

Come on, boys. Come on.

My father loved the
cinema. So did we as kids.

And, remember, I'm about
the last generation brought
up without television.

I was 18 years old when
we first got television.

So my childhood
was radio and things.

But we loved the pictures.
They were always called
"the pictures."

Not the movies, not
the cinema. The pictures.

"Can we go to the pictures?"

They had a powerful
effect on me, you know.

We used to go in
the side entrance.

And, of course, there
was a lavatory down there

with an exit,
and kids used to go and open it.

Little kids would run in
free, you know, doing that.

I used to tell them, "If you
walk in backwards, they'll
think you're coming out."

And I would point
this out, though.

Probably because you were
sitting near the front,

- the edges of the screen
seemed unimportant.
- [Adventuresome music]

They were miles away.

- [Music stops]
- You thought they were
absolutely miles away.

Whereas now I'm very,
very aware of the edges

of the screen, often
making a pokey picture.

But at that time I never
thought any picture was pokey

because it was offering
you another world from
dingy Bradford.

Remember, you're walking through
dingy streets to a little
local cinema, and when you

come out, you've been all over,
you've been in the French
Revolution or somewhere.

So you come out with
your imagination working.

It was pictures,
pictures, pictures.

[Adventuresome music;
Bullets ricochet]

[Music continues]

I've always said, in a
way, I was brought up in
Hollywood and Bradford,

because most of the films
we saw were American,
when I think of it.

[Jaunty orchestral music]

[Hockney] I went to the cinema a
lot and we'd go home on the bus.

I'd always go upstairs
to the front of the bus.

I always traveled
upstairs on the bus, always

on the front seat, so
you could see more.

I always wanted to see more.

[Music continues]

[Music concludes]

I, uh, was coming back from
New York, and I'd bought in

New York some nudist magazines,
some male nudist magazines.

And at the airport the customs
man, who was about 22 years

old, opened the bag, and
they sorted out the magazines.

If they were completely
nude, he put them on one
side and if they were not

quite nude, he put them on
another side and then they
kept the nude magazines.

And I protested and said,
"Oh, come on. Don't be silly.
Just give me them back."

And this, that and the other.
And they took them away.

And I kept phoning up the
customs office in the city.

And I kept speaking to a man.

I don't know what his name was,
Mr Hittet, Hillet or something.

And he said, "Oh, they
are definitely pornographic."

He'd looked through,
and in one of the photographs

the boys had
painted their genitals
with psychedelic colors.

And I just didn't know
what to say to somebody

who didn't think that
was amusing or funny.

And then in the end I had to
get a lawyer, and I showed
him magazines of a similar

kind, and the moment the lawyer
wrote the letter to them, they
immediately came back.

And a man appeared on the
doorstep in a peaked cap with
a big envelope marked "On

"On Her Majesty's Service" and
said, "You know what these
are," and handed them in.

[Laid-back music]

[Mark] David became
particularly intrigued at
the Royal College of Art

because I had a
lot of magazines like

American Model Guild and
Physique Pictorial stuck up

in my cubicle, and this
fascinated him, of course.

I was very out
already in New York,

despite the fact that it was the
'60s, and I had a lot of trouble

being out and I'd been
beaten up several times by,

you know, anti-gay homophobes,
but I just didn't care.

And I thought, well,
you know, England is
probably okay, you know.

Nobody cares there
about this sort of stuff.

And he was intrigued to meet
somebody who was so out,
because I don't think he

knew anybody at that point
who was quite out, and so we
became very close friends.

[Music continues]

[Music concludes]

[Colin] A couple of times I've
shared a bed with Hockney,

and once was I was
stuck for somewhere to kip.

Has anyone ever mentioned
his five-foot-tall turquoise
teddy bear that he had?

This fucking great teddy
bear from here to the wall,

with big eyes it had, and
it's turquoise sort of fluff.

So this went down the middle
of the bed, you see, between

sort of like straights and
gays, if you know what I mean.

And I was this side, you
see, and this fucking
great teddy bear.

And you couldn't even see David.

And then the next
morning, we both woke up.

And David sort of does
this sit up in bed above
this turquoise teddy bear,

and no glasses, you see,
and he sort of goes... He
sort of goes like this.

- He sort of goes, "Hello!"
- [He laughs]

[Sprightly orchestral music]

[Mark] The paintings
all related, whether
superficially or

intensely, on his life and
his trying to deal with his

homosexuality, and trying
to deal with his fantasies,

and trying to deal with the
issues of a sexual identity.

And he used wit to
play with these identities.

[Music continues]

He was really like a
little high-school
girl about it, really.

I mean, it-it was all fantasy
and some sort of cutesy stuff.

I mean, like his
fantasies about...

Who is that rock
singer? Cliff Richard.

[Music continues]

[Mark] I don't think he had had
sex at any point yet with a

man, but I think he certainly
fantasized a lot about it.

[Music continues]

[Mark] With David it was
probably something about a way

to get out something
about himself, but I don't know

if that was the core of the
painting, because, you know,

it's not just pictures
of men fucking.

There's something
much more in there.

And homosexuality,
it's sort of a witty side issue.

Even if it seems to be
the subject of the painting,

it's not the subject
of the painting.

If anything, the homosexual
elements in his paintings,

for me, were points to
roam into the painting

and see other things and
give clues to maybe parts

of the painting, but
they weren't the painting.

[Music - "L-O-V-E"
by Nat King Cole]

* "L" is for the way
you look at me

* "O" is for the only one I see

* "V" is very, very
extraordinary

* "E" is even more than
anyone that you adore
can love... *

When I went to Los
Angeles, it was really...

three times better than
I thought it would be.

* Just a game for two...

[Hockney] I thought, "Well, this
is it. Hollywood is near here."

And I'd just read
an American novel

called City of Night
by John Rechy, which
has accounts of kind

of low life in American
cities, and I thought it was all

wonderful and
colorful and everything.

But, um, I wanted to get up to
Hollywood and see what it was

all like and see the hustlers
and the scene and everything.

And I bought a bicycle
to go there, because I
didn't know how to

get there, and, of
course, it's about 16
miles from Santa Monica.

[Car horn]

[Sultry music]

"Later I would think of
America as one vast city of
night stretching gaudily

"from Times Square to Hollywood
Boulevard, jukebox winking,
rock 'n' roll moaning.

"America at night
fusing its dark cities

"into the unmistakable
shape of loneliness.

"Remember Pershing
Square and the apathetic
palm trees, one-night

"sex and cigarette smoke and
rooms squashed in by loneliness.

"And I would remember
lives lived out darkly
in that vast city

"of night, from all-night movies
to Beverly Hills mansions."

[Music continues]

[Thunder crashes]

[Hockney] I got there
and realized there was
nobody in Pershing Square.

It had all altered, this
empty thing, big palm trees.

And I did find a bar later,
but it was then I realized,
well, I need a car.

You just need a car.
A bicycle won't do, I mean.

- So I gave the bicycle
away and bought a car.
- [Music concludes]

[Indistinct chatter]

[Hockney] I used to work
on a morning, and then
in the afternoon it

got very hot and sunny, so
I'd go and lie on the beach.

[Wind rushes]

[Hockney] And then I'd work
again in the evening.

And I'd maybe work
until about 10:00 or 11:00.

And then I'd go
for a drink, you see.

In California the bars
don't close until 2:00,

which seems to me,
in a way, the ideal hour.

If you're going to close them
at all, it's the ideal hour.

Because in a way
it's not too late,

and you can make up your
mind about things,
I suppose, you see, at 2:00.

4:00 is a bit late, really.

[Downbeat jazz music]

[Hockney] You can go
in a bar and meet

the equivalent of a plumber
from Brooklyn could be sat
at the next stool,

and some other guy,
you know, a movie-maker from

Hollywood could be sat at the...

on the next stool.

I mean, that can happen.
In London, you can't.

[Music continues,
skateboard wheels rattle]

Los Angeles to, uh,
David meant surfers.

And there were a
lot of boys around.

And, uh... And all that was, uh,

I think, very...

erotic and beautiful to
David, and he depicted it.

[Music continues]

[Jack] It was 1964,

and Chris Isherwood phoned
and said that a young
English artist had phoned

- him who was here
in Santa Monica...
- [Music subsides]

..and could he come by and
visit Chris on an afternoon?

And Chris said, "Of course."

David Hockney arrived very
dyed blonde, in my memory
was in a gold jacket.

[Birdsong;
Insects chirr]

Chris was a distinguished
writer, and I suppose

the most famous
British queer living in LA.

And, yes, David would have
known about him and would
have read his books too.

We'd already been
together 15 years,

and at that time that
was considered phenomenal.

Two men living together and 30
years difference between them,

and they haven't, uh, shot one
another

or at least split up.

- Yeah.
- [He chuckles]

He took a lot of
photographs and even did
some preliminary drawings.

Chris, he got that figure in
the painting right away, and you

can tell from looking
at the painting, it's
very freshly painted.

It was a really first version.

And it was good. I kept it.

And, of course, he had the
photographs to-to remind him.

The painting of me is
much heavier technique,
if you look closely.

He had a lot of trouble with me.

I think it may have given David
the idea of finding a partner

for himself, since it seemed
to work well for Chris and me.

[Wind rushes]

[Jack] David met a student at
UCLA during the summer,

Peter Schlesinger, and
he liked Peter very much.

I believe Peter was what
David was somehow looking for.

But he called once,
and he was taking this

young student of his
from Tarzana in the Valley.

There's a place
called Tarzana where...

[He chuckles continuously]

Burroughs lived in
Tarzana and created Tarzan.

Edgar Rice Burroughs
created it in the Valley.

And so it's called Tarzana.

And... And David did a now
famous painting of Peter

which
is called The Room, Tarzana.

[Don] He was a very attractive
young man, and quite beautiful.

And, yes, I think David
was enchanted by him.

Neither had ever lived in a
romantic relationship with a

partner, and that made it a
lot of fun to be around them.

[Birdsong]

[Joyful music]

[John] My first encounter was
with a picture, not
with David as a person.

I was captured by Doll
Boy as a picture that
seemed to me original

and gay in the old sense
of the word and, uh,

rule breaking and witty.

I particularly liked that
painting and, at that time, had

sufficient money to buy
it outright and then
wanted to meet David.

[Music concludes]

[Birdsong]

[John] David acquired fans...

with enormous facility.

Cecil Beaton had already
bought a picture on one of his
visits to the Royal College.

It was a time when Snowdon
was making photographs for
a book called Private View,

and people saw the potential
in David as someone that you
could write a lot about.

I had great
ambition at the time.

I wanted to show what I
thought of as the greatest art.

I'd formulated a pretty strong
idea of what I liked most, and

it was almost entirely American
abstract color field painting.

But, of course, in England
I wanted to represent what
I thought was the best in

English painting, whether
it fitted in with all of
the American taste or not.

And Hockney was the only
figurative artist that I found

interesting, exciting, that I
wanted to be the defender of.

You could say David was the
only figurative artist in a
deadly serious abstract place.

But, in fact, the influence
of the ones on the other
were quite strong.

I mean, a number of
his pictures were painted

thinking about color
field painting, you know.

He'd already pretty
rapidly became a blonde,
a flamboyant dresser...

[Indistinct chatter]

..a maker of public statements.

I mean, the sort of
person that draws the
attention of journalists.

And it was at the
very moment when...

the eye of the press and the
tastemakers was on

- the British
art world and fashion world.
- [Jazz music]

And David stood out as one of
the banner carriers for the new

approach to art, life and,
in fact, the emerging
openness of gay life.

[Music continues]

[John] David always had
a sense of humor.

For instance, when Tony
Snowdon said, "Come
round and have a look

"at Kensington Palace,"
when he was married to
Princess Margaret.

Tony used to take great
delight in those days

showing you the bathroom
with the "M" and the coronet on

top of the lavatory seat, and
saying, "You can have a pee,

you know, in Margaret's lav,
if you like."

Then he asked David to sign
the visitor's book,
and David said,

"No, no," he said,
"I'm not gonna sign that.

"I don't want my name in
there come the revolution."

[Music continues]

[Indistinct chatter]

[Hockney] In 1962, I'd been at
a demonstration in
Trafalgar Square.

When it was over, I thought
I'd come in the National
Gallery and have a look

at frescoes by Domenichino
from a room in the Villa
Aldobrandini near Rome.

Then I became fascinated
with things about the pictures.

[Music subsides]

The space of the picture, you
see, is really only one foot.

As you can see here,
there's the picture begins
here, and there's some floor.

And the dwarf that you see is
stood in front of this tapestry,

which is the back
of the picture.

The picture is only the depth
of a person, as a matter of
fact, which is about one foot.

So I did my version
of this painting.

You can see the
tapestry quite clearly,

and you can see I've
painted a fleur-de-lis border.

And instead of a
dwarf, I got a friend.

In fact, he's an art dealer
called Kasmin, to pose for me.

And I defined the front of the
picture by putting a sheet of
glass over this section.

And I got Kas to pose for
this, and I did some drawings.

And I took some photographs of
him pressed against the glass.

And so my figure is
trapped between the
tapestry and the glass.

In fact, the idea of that
painting I've kept repeating and

repeating, and, um, the idea
of a border still interests me.

For example, here's
another painting that
I did in Hollywood.

Because it's got a border
round it, you cannot,
as it were,

walk straight into the picture.

If it's got a border, it's
like this rope being here,

and to climb into it,
you've got to climb over this,

you see, and then you'd
have to go onto the diving board

and fall into the swimming pool,
and there's the splash.

[Water splashes]

[Stirring music]

[Raymond] Henry Geldzahler
was a curator at the
Metropolitan Museum of Art.

- [Hockney, on intercom] Hello?
- Hi, Dave. It's Henry.

[Phone rings]

[Raymond] It was obvious
that David was the most
important person in his life.

They spoke on the
telephone almost every
day for 20 or 30 minutes.

Of course, in those days
there were no mobile phones.

There was a table where
the telephone sat, and
you had conversations.

So I got to know David
through one-sided phone
conversations that Henry was

having with him, and I realized
they shared absolutely every
aspect of their life.

The art, the books, the
friendships, the lovers,
the gossip, everything.

It was total friendship.

[Birdsong]

David was essentially
a figure of the 19th
century in many respects.

The literature, the
art, the music that he
was deeply involved in,

much of it was 19th century.

The same was true of Henry.

- That's what David
loved about Henry.
- [Street noise]

In the 1960s and the
1970s, David was a very
unfashionable artist.

He was involved
with poetry, literature.

He wanted to bring all
of these things into his art.

So David was engaging all
of these subjects that most

artists were working very hard
to eliminate from their work.

He was, in many ways, a
figure who was excluded from
the contemporary dialogue

that was taking place, and
to have Henry's imprimatur,
interest, friendship...

I think it meant a
great deal to him.

And he was not shy about
telling David what he liked
and what he didn't like about

both his art and his
personality, but he always did
it in a very loving, gentle way.

One of the things that David
relied on Henry

every six months or so
would be to go through
a stack of drawings.

And every now and then
there'd be something and Henry

would pick it up and tear
it up, throw it in the trash.

[Contemplative orchestral music]

[Hockney] If next week
this country did collapse

but on the
very day it collapsed,

you met your absolute true love,

you wouldn't give two hoots
about the bloody place
collapsing, would you?

I mean, you know, you'd
think, "Oh, all's right
with the world."

If we have a sandwich
and a glass of beer,
it doesn't matter.

[Music continues;
Somber operatic singing]

[Celia] Lots of David's
portraits are about
togetherness, aren't they?

Togetherness is two people,
and it's always a kind of
interesting equation for him.

'Cause in a way we're
all alone, but it's nice
to be part of something

and part of somebody else.

[Sewing machines whir,
phone rings]

David and Ossie
were really good pals.

Ossie was a very flamboyant
character in his own way,
and single-minded.

In fact, his shows were
quite unique, and he'd bill the

music to the fashion models,
to the whole catwalk experience.

We were all pals together,
and I suppose, leading a
certain bohemian life.

And it was very innocent then.

You were enjoying being young
and in London and doing things
you really liked doing.

[Applause;
Music continues]

[Celia] David asked Ossie and
myself if we'd pose for him.

I remember going to Powis
Terrace and him taking
lots of photographs.

And I know, for instance,
he couldn't get Ossie's
feet correctly painted,

so he put the shag pile
carpet on the floor and hid
his feet in the carpet.

[Street noise]

[Celia] And he made the bedroom
into the sitting room
because he wanted to

choose various things
that he thought were to
do with our personalities.

[Insects chirr]

[Celia] I met Peter when he
first came over with David.

There was this new person to
engage with, and it was Peter.

I think he made a
nice home for David.

I think he wanted to
have a stylish home.

[Somber operatic singing]

[Rattling]

[Shower runs]

[Tchaik] David had acquired the
leases on the surrounding
flats and said would I

knock the walls down between
them and make a very lovely
lateral apartment?

As far as I'm concerned,
I just designed the flat
that I'd want for myself.

Little did I know
I'd later have it.

[Mechanical whirring]

[Tchaik] David's quite
sociable, so he likes to give
parties, to have people around.

So to have a big room at
one end of the apartment
and at the other and

then a beautiful long
gallery between them,
that was very appealing.

[Music continues]

[Tchaik] Peter dealt with
curtains and tiles

and finishes and furniture.

[Melissa] Peter would
go out and hunt for things,

and then he'd take David to
see them and decide together.

He would go out to the
market and buy vases and,
you know, bits and pieces.

But if it was like a big thing,
David would get very involved.

[Music continues]

[Hockney] He was the first
person I lived with, yeah.

- Yeah, it was very
nice. Very, very nice.
- [Music fades]

You know, when people said
to me, "Ah, well, when you
said you were gay in

1960 or something, and,

well, it was illegal and
this, that and the other."

And I said, "Well...

"I lived in Bohemia,
and Bohemia is
a tolerant place."

[Bustling street noise;
Siren wails]

[Melissa] When he's in London,
he quite often pops round.

He used to just ring
the doorbell and come
in and prowl around.

Particularly, he liked going
into his old studio and just

standing there,
remembering all the great
paintings he did there.

[Soft orchestral music]

[Music concludes]

[Bright clavichord music]

[Music concludes]

The clavichord was
near a doorway, which
was near the window.

And so it was... I
was leaning against it.

Yes, and it was...

With all our underwear
all over the floor.

Wayne's jockstraps
were everywhere.

Well, I needed them.

Uh...

I was playing A-flat, this note.

And I wanted to call
the painting, "A Flat".

- [Wayne] A Small Flat.
- [George] A very small flat,
yes.

But it was really a
painting about stillness.

I think it would have been
wonderful. It's unfinished.

[Wayne] The development of what
should have been a
really beautiful, serene

happy, listening,
still painting became a huge

dilemma of mixtures of colors
and unfinished sequences and

painting out the floor and
repainting in the background.

And every time we went round
there, there was something
different going on.

And I just thought,
"This will never get done."

[George] He was worried
about something called
the vanishing point.

I think the problem wasn't
really the vanishing point.

It was the vanishing Peter.

[Street noise]

[Wayne] David was
splitting up with Peter,

and that was a very
upsetting period for
both of them, actually.

[Don] David was very upset.

He was, I think, genuinely
in love with Peter.

They had their troubles.

But, you know, starting a
relationship is very tricky,
even a man and a woman,

and the first time either of
them had ever been involved
in such a relationship.

Of course they were
going to have problems.

[Wayne] That was a very
upsetting period.

I think he was taking
tranquilizers as well.

He was just crying a lot.

I mean, it had been
a long period that
he'd been with Peter,

and it was just suddenly
a devastating point, which

actually did come through
the picture, because it was an

unfinished scene, like his
life was unfinished without him.

[Melancholy harp music]

[Stirring operatic singing]

[Arthur] I think there were
periods of depression.

I have films of him
lying on the water bed,
obviously very depressed,

being comforted by Henry.

Whether that was related
to the breakup with Peter,
or whether that was just

something that is endemic
to his personality, I've
never been absolutely sure.

He can be extremely up, and
then we've all seen moods
where he's not happy.

[Music continues]

- [Seagulls caw]
- [Arthur] But he got
a lot of support.

In the summer of '75
and '76, both he and Henry

stayed all summer at
my house at the shore.

It was right on the beach.

He liked being there,
and he liked painting.

He uses his work
to escape the world.

And I remember he'd
sit there in the living room

and paint and eat out of
this huge barrel of something.

It wasn't potato
chips or something.

Pretty soon the floor would be
covered with them like they
were sawdust or something.

It was an absolutely...
It was a unique time.

That's where he started
the Blue Guitar series.
I think that was in '76.

I'm not sure whether that
idea came from Henry or...

'Cause Henry read a lot,
read a lot of poetry, but
David always read a lot too.

So I don't know who got
the idea, but he spent all
summer doing that series.

[Gentle, sweeping music;
Seagulls caw]

[Hockney] I mean, I'd
begun the etchings, then
I thought, the title...

I just thought I would
call it The Blue Guitar
by David Hockney,

inspired by Wallace Stevens, who
was inspired by Pablo Picasso.

And the names could get
bigger as they go down.

The source of the poem was
a painting of Picasso,

and so I'm turning the poem back
into a painting and etchings.

"They said, 'You
have a blue guitar.

"'You do not play
things as they are.'

"The man replied, 'Things
as they are are changed
upon the blue guitar.'

"And they said then, 'But
play you must, a tune
beyond us, yet ourselves,

"a tune upon the blue guitar
of things exactly as they are.'"

[Music continues]

[Hockney] When I read it, see, I
loved the phrase, "You do
not play things as they are,"

because the philistine response
to Picasso was, "You do not
paint things as they are."

Well, there's no such
thing as "things as they are."

- [Music subsides]
- In painting,

where you deceive the eye with
all sorts of devices to make
things look as they are...

I don't know. The poem just
triggered ideas in my head.

So I started making drawings
which are just inventions,

which was a change for
me from the past two years.

In the painting, for
instance, there's things.

The colored line right at the
top is simply a colored line,

so that's absolutely as it is.

There's no illusion there.

But the water
falling is illusionistic.

And you make references
to other kinds of painting.

I mean, playing games like
that seemed such fun to me.

I just went on and on.

[Spirited orchestral music]

[Arthur] The work has always
been this core of David's life.

The first breakup was
very difficult for him.

But the art is the thing
that gives him the anchor
in life and in the world.

I mean, I think anything
that happens, as long as
he's able to see

the world through his
painting and stuff, he
could survive anything.

[Music concludes]

[Peppy music]

[Shutter clicks]

[Shutter clicks]

[Shutter clicks]

[Shutter clicks]

You know, I've taken photographs
for a long, long time,

and I have about a hundred
albums full of photographs.

All my life. It's all
recorded pictorially.

Most people who ever come into
it I photograph in some way.

And later maybe I draw
them, but usually I don't
draw them instantly.

I just take a snap.
It is like a diary.

[Music continues]

[Shutter clicks]

[Shutter clicks]

[Hockney] I'm just
a snapper, really.

[Music concludes]

[Philip] We see so many
photographic images and
film images, and they're

so mainstream, we're so used
to thinking of those as the way

of representing the world, but
he knows that one can do things

with painting that one cannot do
with photographic technologies.

One can express
visions of the world,

ways of seeing, that invite
you to look at things that

you would only just glance
at if it was a photograph

or even if you were
seeing it in reality.

He's introducing something
much more personal,
something more moving.

And he's trying with many
tactics to show that
painting can do this.

[Insects chirr,
water sloshes gently]

[Bustling street noise]

[Hockney, I'd become very, very
aware of this frozen moment
that was very unreal to me.

The photographs didn't
really have life in the way
a drawing or painting did.

And I realized it couldn't
because of what it is.

Compared to Rembrandt
looking at himself for hours and

hours and scrutinizing his
face and putting all these hours

into the picture that you're
going to look at, naturally,

there's many more hours
there than even you can give it.

A photograph is
the other way round.

It's a fraction of
a second, frozen.

So the moment you've looked
at it for even four seconds,

you're looking at it for far
more than the camera did.

And I... it dawned on me
that this was visible, actually.

It is visible.

And the more you become
aware of it, the more this
is a terrible weakness.

Drawings and paintings
do not have this.

I made a little photographic
experiment with the Polaroid

by putting 30 of them together,

made a photograph of this
house in a way that I'd been

trying to paint the house
from three different viewpoints.

And the photograph
excited me so much.

And... well, time was
appearing in the picture

and because of it, space,
a bigger illusion of space.

Now, the space is an
illusion. I was aware of that.

But the time is not an illusion.

- It is real and accounted
for in the number of pictures.
- [Sprightly music]

You know it took time to
take them, wait for them,
put them down and so on.

And this began...
I realized was giving you

this illusion of space
that we had not seen...

I had not seen in a
photograph before.

[Music continues]

[Music concludes]

[Hockney] I'm interested
in pictures made any way

and the visible
world and representing it.

That's why Picasso
is always interesting.

- [Thunder crashes]
- He never left
the visible world,

never left depiction, actually.

[Stirring music]

[Dog yelps]

[John] His greatest hero
for most of his life has
been Pablo Picasso,

whose art moves through

phases and different approaches
and styles with great frequency
throughout a long life.

So David's aware of the fact
that almost everything he does

is going to sell the second
he's put his name to it.

And he does not want to
become a machine for
producing items of value.

[Thunder crashes,
music continues]

He frequently ran into
periods when he was

dissatisfied with what he was

doing and was thrashing
about looking for new and
different ways of doing it.

He did not like just going
on using his immense
facility for drawing.

Didn't satisfy his ambition.

[Music continues]

[Hockney] Surfaces that you can
decide where to look I find
fascinating, you know.

In a way, with water,

you can look at a reflection.

Then you're looking
at the surface.

Or you can suddenly
take the reflection
away and look through it.

And somehow the problem
of depicting it becomes
a wonderful way of,

in your head, thinking
of graphic terms and
devices to depict it all.

[Music continues]

[Hockney] The early ones
are done with very, very
stylized form in the water.

Jigsaw shapes with a heavy
blue line describing the
interlocking shapes,

as though somebody's
jumped in the pool and all
the shapes are dancing.

The painting called The
Sunbather, the dancing line
is yellow, which happens

if it's very sunny and
you get this dancing
yellow line all the time.

Later on, I could make the
water look very fluid and wet

by putting acrylic paint
that was very, very diluted,

and you put a detergent in it,

so when you paint on the
canvas, the canvas soaks
it up like blotting paper.

[Music continues]

[Hockney] Even the painting
of the splash, for instance,

somehow what I quite liked about

doing it was the perversity
of painting something that
lasts for one second.

But it took me seven days'
work to paint the splash itself.

If you look carefully,
it's painted in single
lines with a small brush.

[Gloomy music]

[Hockney] I like the idea, you
see, of a realistic painting
of a real figure looking

at another figure, but the
other figure is distorted
naturally by the water.

[Grand orchestral music]

[Music concludes,
cow moos in distance]

[Cow moos]

[Joseph] I was the technical
director when the Met opened
the French triple bill.

What we did was to
take David's pieces...

In the case of Parade,
the ideas of someone who's

basically not working all
the time in the theater...

And translate them to the
stage, but add the things that
you know that make it work.

I think the challenges were, for
him, just the scale of things.

[Soft, twinkling music]

[Hockney] This is a model of the
Metropolitan Opera stage.

And the story of the opera
is about a naughty child.

And the little boy says,
"I'm fed up of being good.
I want to be wicked."

So he picks up a
poker from the fireplace,

he runs around the room,
he smashes the teapot.

[Powerful operatic singing]

Very shortly after the
Met reopened, there
was Parade, in the

winter-time when everyone is
desperate for light and color.

And here is something
totally fresh, totally new,

something unlike anyone
had ever seen at the Met.

And I think it just...

It lifted people's spirits,
and it kind of took them to
a different place.

And David was a major instrument
in having that happen.

[Music continues]

[Powerful operatic singing]

[Raymond] Henry
and David in Europe...

They would arrive in a European
city and immediately go to

- the opera house, look to see
what was playing, get tickets.
- [Music subsides]

Then they'd go to the museum.

Then they'd have lunch and
they'd go back to the hotel.

Henry would write. David
would have his sketch pad
and his colored pencils.

Then they'd have a nap.

Then they'd come out, have
dinner, go to the opera house.

[Tense orchestral music]

[Dramatic orchestral music]

[Hockney]
There's a lot of music.

There's often four minutes
of music with nobody

singing, which means you're
to be looking at something.

In fact, you're to be
looking at something in an

interesting way to hear
that music, to really hear it.

So we'll figure a
way, you know...

Just slowly reveal
the forest and so on.

I mean, just do it very slowly.

Tristan and Isolde, I worked
for a year in here on it.

One year, actually, it took,
matching the music and getting
the colors and things.

It was a long, big job.

I used to sit up
here with it, and I'd...

We had a big model with
lights, and I had all these

little lights where I could
change it and do things.

Sometimes I'd smoke a joint
and then put on the music
and fiddle with the lights.

It was terrific,
actually, that... doing it.

[Music continues]

And, I must confess, the
other night I saw Tosca, and
it suddenly occurred to me

that the only Puccini opera
that doesn't have a lot of
cruelty in it is Bohème.

At least she dies from TB.

This opera... not only
does nobody die, it ends
on the best note of hope

I've ever come across
on a musical stage, I think,

that there is real hope
for us wretched people.

This is actually the
drawing we're finally
using to make the set

for the Poulenc opera, which is
a scene in the South of France.

It's supposed to
be jolly and pretty.

[Joseph] Unlike some designers
and unlike some artists,

David was completely
swept up with the music.

To him, the music suggested
visual things, and I think
that was a big appeal.

And one of the things
that often is missing in
theatrical productions

is that kind of
reverence for... for

the work of art, but also
a kind of willingness to

be completely one with
its slightly sentimental side.

And David loved that.

[Percussive orchestral music]

[Hockney]
It's gone now for me... music.

I don't go to the opera anymore
because I can't really hear it.

I mean, I'd have to sit right
at the front or something.

I mean, I don't go because
if you go, I leave the
theater a bit depressed.

[Upbeat orchestral music]

[Kenneth] Well, he's just coming
off of the theater work, okay,

and he's fed up with that.

He doesn't know what he
wants to do next, and he is
kind of loose at this moment.

And he's visiting friends, and
he's having a good time in

New York, and he comes
over for dinner, okay, to
see what I'm up about.

And so I show him the great
Ellsworth Kelly paper images.

And he's absolutely
thunderstruck.

He's moved, really moved.

And he also said, you know,
"These, Ken, are fantastic.
How are they made?"

So I said, "Well, you know, stay
for... you know, after dinner.

Stay till tomorrow
and I'll show you.

We'll make up a couple of
pieces of paper and I'll
show you how it's done."

- That's the turn-on, you know.
"Oh, you'll show me? Okay."
- [Jazz music]

So we started to play.

[Music continues]

[Kenneth] At first he
kvetched about, "Oh, I
don't wanna do this.

I have to make every one
of these myself," you know.

"They're not reproducible.

I don't know whether
I wanna do all these."

But he did all these, and
every time he did a new one,
he wanted to make another one.

And we wound up
working 18 hours a day.

I mean, it was slave
labor for 49 days.

All of us just loved it. We
couldn't get enough of it.

Because each and every piece
he made was just one more note

of greatness that he was putting
down for us to hear, to see.

And he knew that he was onto
something as much as we did.

[Music continues]

I think Paper Pools helped him
tremendously in his painting.

Yeah, I really do.

Because I think it freed him up.

I think it also gave
him a different kind
of idea about color,

how to use color more boldly.

[Music continues]

[Music fades]

[Indistinct chatter]

[Whistle]

Come on, Stanley. Come on.

[Charlie] David loved having the
dachshunds down there and
walking on the beach.

But I think ultimately,
David's house in Malibu,
it wasn't very David.

I mean, it was very David
in its kind of hominess,

but I don't think it
ever became his home.

I mean, David's never been
a weekend person, so I
thought it was a bit strange.

And it was decorated
very nicely and cozy.

It was very funky and
old-fashioned, unlike
slick Malibu at the time.

But as anybody that's
lived in LA knows, it's
actually a long way to

go to go have lunch or
to have a dinner or get
in the car and drive.

[TV on]

[Charlie] It was a
transitional time.

A lot of David's older friends
were not there all the time.

[Raymond] It was a world in the
1970s where to be gay was to be
beautiful and fashionable.

The whole world was right
there in the palm of your hands.

When David came to New
York, a lot of times
he was here to party.

He would go to the baths.
He would go out to the bars.

He was having a good time.

And then all of a sudden, AIDS
came along, and suddenly things

went exactly in the
opposite direction, and
it was like a plague.

[Waves crash fiercely]

[Crashing waves subside]

[Raymond] One person after the
next would come down with AIDS,

and it was quite simply
a death sentence.

[Contemplative music]

- I think it was something
that shook David to his core.
- [Music subsides]

You think about them every
day and then you stop it,

because there's too many,
actually, uh...

It would rather drive you
mad if you think about it.

And slowly you have to
realize it's kind of part of...

It's become part of
your life, this, uh...

Something you
never, ever expected.

[Hockney] At the time,
I couldn't write down
all the people.

I mean...

..it did change New York.

I think it's that that
changed it more than
anything else, because I...

When I think of
all those people...

If they were still there in
New York, New York would be
different today. It would.

There would be Bohemia still.

And that's the world I
arrived in, and that's the
world I lived in, actually.

Two-thirds of the people
that he was really close to

suddenly just weren't
there anymore.

They just disappeared.

- And Henry... When Henry died,
it really was the final blow.
- [Solemn music]

Of course, Henry didn't die of
anything to do with HIV or AIDS

but I think that
was a terrible blow for David.

[Raymond] When Henry
died, it affected David,

I think, particularly
badly because I think he

realized he was never going to
find another person who knew
him as well as Henry did.

Truman Capote once said,
"Love is never having to
finish a sentence."

And what that means is
you're so much on the same
page with the other person,

you can begin a sentence,
and they immediately know
what you're going to say.

It's that kind of
communication that Henry had
with David and vice versa.

And when Henry died, that
was something that David

never really discovered
in anybody else again.

[Music concludes]

[Flames crackle;
Jaunty orchestral music]

[Music continues, seagull caws]

[Colin] So I goes round
to David's, you see,
one morning, and he's

got this color TV set, and he
says, "Would you like to see it?

Have you ever seen color TV?"

He switches it on, you see, and
he gets the color, and he turns

the color up right full
on as far as the knobs
will go, you know.

And he goes, "Aye." And he looks
like this and he says, "Aye."

- He says, "You can have it
fauvist if you want," you know.
- [He chuckles]

* Happy birthday, dear David

* Happy birthday to you.

[Cheering, applause]

[Soft jazz music,
lively chatter]

[Charlie] There's a
wonderful self-portrait
he did on his birthday,

where he literally
took off his Brooks

Brothers red and white
striped shirt and laid it
on the copying machine

and printed it in red.

It's a wonderful... And
then he drew his face and
did the self-portrait.

He has such bravura because
he has such amazing ability
as a draftsman.

[Jaunty music]

[Charlie] When the plain
paper fax came, where you
could have individual

pieces of paper, David brought
back that pattern he uses

all the time of doing pictures
in grids, so that the small

piece of paper can suddenly
become this enormous picture.

[Loud chatter]

[Woman] Oh, it's tennis.

There's two players,
a net in the middle.

[Applause, cheering]

He even sent a big show, a
whole show, to Brazil to the
Biennale that he never went to.

He just gave the
instructions of how to put
it up, and it was put up.

I think he thought it was
amusing that hand was coming
back to this technology

that most people in business
were using to communicate
contracts and legal deals.

I think he's always
looking for new tools.

He takes something that seems
very common and every day.

And in 2009, David had
already done, I think, about
200 of the iPhone drawings.

Most of them were flowers.

We all got them in New
York when we woke up in
the morning, so you'd

have this wonderful
flower in the sunlight
of his bedroom window.

Then the iPad came out,

and then the drawings got
so even more amazing, but
also you could do the

playback of the animation
of the actual drawing,
which was a huge new thing.

Even David had never been
able to watch his own
work as it was unfolding.

I think it was a real lens
into David's creative process.

[Rain falls, wind howls softly]

[Man] Stanley.
Good boy. Good boy.

He's a good boy.

[Gloomy music]

- Thank you.
- You're welcome.

[Music continues]

[Philip] I think that David
wants us to think differently.

He wants us to see differently
and think differently.

He makes you
stand in the painting.

He makes you look up
and left and right and down.

The experience becomes a
different one from the
traditional easel painting.

[Music continues]

[Charlie] David thought
that the idea of a viewer

and the vanishing point
was very anti-humanistic.

And the idea of you being
the vanishing point and
the world around you

opening up to you was
almost a religious concept
in David's mind, I think.

[Music continues]

[Hockney] I think there
is possibly a great
connection between

the way we depict space
and the way we behave in it.

I've always thought
perspective was a problem, so
anything that is now helping to

change it, like this photograph
I did on an iPhone,

I find quite exciting, actually.

[Music subsides]

This is... This seems to me
to be widening perspectives.

It's a different
perspective, wider.

Things are opening
out, it seems to me.

It's better to go that
way than that way, I think.

That way is better
than doing that, I think.

[Charlie] He realized that
there was a non photographic
way of seeing the world,

which David really embraced.

Particularly because we don't
see the world through one eye.

We see the world
through two eyes spatially,

and I think that the spaces of
California, the Grand Canyon...

All of those things excited him.

And he always thought
the painting could
express those things

in ways that
photography couldn't.

[Insects chirr]

[Charlie] He always said one
photograph is not good enough,

and that photo collages
were an attempt to try to
have a wider perspective.

[Train whistle
blows in distance]

He kept saying, "Wider
perspectives are needed now."

There are some good
landscape photographs.

There are, but not that many.

Partly because, I mean,
cameras see surfaces.

They don't see space.

But we see space.

I think the thrill in landscape
is a spatial thrill, actually.

I think so.

[Deep, reverberant music]

[Music continues]

[Hockney] Nature is the endless
infinity, isn't it?

You always go back
to nature for things.

I mean, that's what I was
doing in Yorkshire, yeah.

[Music continues]

[Jaunty music]

So now we've got an "I"
that's been made into an "X."

I hate to think about it.

See that letter
there... That "X"?

Barney ate the "X," so I
had to make a new one.

[Man] So you had to
make one from an "I."

And what about that missing "I"?
That's totally confused me now.

I realize what's thrown me out.

- You never had too many I's.
- [Man] It's lack of
the "I."

- Yeah, in this game.
- Sixty-five. That's "K."

- [Woman] "K."
- [She laughs]

I don't believe it.
And you've got 177?

- What?
- And I'm 65?

- I'm 193.
- You've not been watching.

And also, you see, Barney
helping's not much help, really.

No, he's a bit thick.

He can't spell
that good, really.

No, he can't spell at all.
Would you like the timer?

- No, I would not, sir.
Thank you.
- [Music subsides]

[Deep laughter]

[Soft chimes resonate]

[Hockney] My mother was a very,
very strong woman.

She could look at
me with piercing eyes.

[Street noise]

[Man] Oh, there they are.

[Hockney] She died at 99. She
lived most of the 20th century.

She was born in
1900 and died in 1999.

- [Woman] Are you feeling it?
- [Man] No.

[Seagulls caw]

[Man] Great! The queen's on!

[Hockney] She had four of her
children there when she died,
so she was blessed, actually.

- [Man] Cheers.
- Cheers.

[Hockney] I think her last
act of will was waiting for
John to come from Australia.

[Man] Just a little bit,
please. That's enough.

Yes, thank you.

The last night I
stayed up with her,

telling her John
would be here in a few minutes.

And then she died
two hours later.

But he was very pleased
that he'd got there and
she knew he'd got there.

[Stirring music]

[Hockney] I remember
1966, and I've just
arrived back in Bradford,

and you can tell I've just
come back from Hollywood.

And I put a cigarette in my
mouth, and my father's trying
to take it out of my hand.

And that's 50 years ago now.

And I'm just about to
outlive him, I think, this year.

[Music continues]

[David] Back then, in the '50s,
you've got to remember that
a young painter was 40.

So if you were going to be a
painter, it took a tremendous
amount of commitment then,

that you had to face the
fact that you'd probably be
digging roads or working

in the mill or anything
until you got old enough
to be a young painter.

[Baby cries in distance]

[Birds chitter]

[Dog barks]

[David] In those days,
there was a tremendous
amount of aggression

going on, and I was involved
with various gangs and things.

I was all in all sorts
of fights, always was.

But Dave was much
tougher than me.

He wasn't involved
with fights and things.

But he'd go around with
his bowler hat on and
his moleskin trousers,

pushing a pram with an easel,
canvas and paints.

And it takes a bit of
strength to do that.

I couldn't have done that.

* "L" is for the way

* You look at me...

[David] When David
left to go to America,

he just changed his
pram for whatever else
there was out there.

It was the same thing.

In a way, LA was
another Bradford.

His whole outlook on things, in
many ways, has stayed the same.

I mean, there were things
that opened up for him, like
the gay thing and all that.

I mean, that was a
tremendous influence on him.

But, basically,
he's still searching.

[Music - "L-O-V-E"
by Nat King Cole]

* "L" is for the way

* You look at me

* "O" is for the only one I see

* "V" is very, very

* Extraordinary

* "E" is even more

* Than anyone that you adore can

* Love is all that
I can give to you

* Love is more than
just a game for two

* Two in love can make it

* Take my heart and
please don't break it

* Love was made for me and you

* Love was made

* For me and you

- * Love was made
for me and you. *
- [Music fades]

[Upbeat, serene music]

[Music continues]

[Music concludes]

[Soft, stirring music]

[Music concludes]

[Diving board rattles,
water splashes]