FAREWELL FAMOUS TYKE David Hockney, Britain's best-known painter, died yesterday. He and I simultaneously attended Bradford Grammar School in Yorkshire though he was was two years younger. I never spoke to him but I observed his behaviour. As might be imagined, even then he marched to the beat of a different drummer and this attracted the school bullies. As they punched him he giggled; this foxed these sporting oafs and they quickly walked away, disappointed.
Hockney, of course, travelled the world and is frequently remembered for the work he did in California. Despite this he retained much more of his West Riding accent than I did. The difference being he spoke charmingly whereas I always sounded as if I was complaining. Eventually the years spent in and around London, plus the six years in Pennsylvania, wore away most of these unwelcome linguistic roots and I can now pass as geographically anonymous.
WRITING STYLE Having - more or less - mastered English grammar and left spelling up to WfW's Checker I can afford to concentrate on writing style. By now - and I should bloody well hope so! - I know what I want but defining those two words is fiendishly difficult. There are certain identifiable factors. A war on superfluity, for instance, but without lapsing into terseness. Choosing exact verbs rather than opting, lazily, for generalities. Chasing after that which is vivid plus its corollary: the unexpected.
But summarising that in, say, less than thirty words is beyond me. For the moment. I'll return to this subject however tedious you may regard it.
I wonder if I may be trying to write as if from my belly button.
Sir Hugh provided this comment but attached it to the preceding post. I've re-positioned it. Roderick
ReplyDeleteDavid H was also a contemporary of mine at Badford Grammar School albeit he was a year ahead of me, and like you I don't think I ever spoke to him and I have little mmeory of him at that time, except for admiring some of his artwork displayed in the art master's room. I have much more distinct memory of him in my post school days, often seeing him pushing his pram full of easels and art paraphernalia around Bradford city centre.
Whilst ticking off the English Marilyns there was a lonely one in a field just off the A166 in the middle of nowhere. I later found that it was just beyond Garrowby Hill, now the subject of one of David H's more well known paintings. I now have a small print in my living room.
There will be many anecdotes I suppose but it was rumoured that when presented with his O Level Maths exam paper David wrote across it "I can't do maths but I can draw" and proceeded to do just that.
Especially with my somewhat tenuous connection I feel as though some vital ingredient has gone from our lives, BUT WHAT A LEGACY!
Go and see the Hockney collection at Salt's Mill in Saltaire at the heart of David's West Riding beginings; certainly for me always a significant experience from several visits during my eighty odd years.
You've been a huge influence on me and my writing. Your love of words has been contagious.
ReplyDeleteColette: As the poet Byron said: then my living has not been in vain.
DeleteI’d never heard of DH. A quick perusal of his paintings leaves me stunned that he ever achieved fame. Even Warhol was better. There is a local fellow (local to you) who DOES impress me. Peter Brown aka Pete the Street. Paints as well as you write. Instagram is best.
ReplyDeleteMikeM: One of his earlier painting sold for £10m. And yet you've never heard, for instance, of A Bigger Splash; I thought it was big in the US. After all he lived in California for at least a decade. Famous for regularly changing his style. The obituaries listed him as England's Picasso. I take it you've heard of him.
Delete