David Hockney OM CH RA,
British b. 1937-
Waiting at York, 180, 2010;
ipad drawing in colours on...

David Hockney OM CH RA,
British b. 1937-

Waiting at York, 180, 2010;

ipad drawing in colours on wove,
signed, dated and numbered from an edition of 25,
94 x 71.1 cm,
(unframed)
(ARR)

Note: Hockneys experimentalism with new medias and technologies is represented in Waiting at York, an early iPad drawing, made in the first year Hockney was working on an iPad.

Prior to working on an iPad, Hockney experimented with the capabilities of an iPhone. Hockney first discovered the iPhone during the winter of 2008. I was fascinated by it, because I think its a stunning visual tool. He stated that It took a while to master how to get thicker and thinner lines, transparency and soft edges. But then I realised that it had marvellous advantages. He uses an app called Brushes. People keep sending me new drawings apps to try out, but once you get used to one its sufficient.

Hockney often explores new technologies in his art. In the mid-1980s he bought one of the first colour photocopying machines and used it to create a series of works entitled Hand-Made Prints. A few years later, he did the same with the fax.

When discussing using an iPhone, he states There are gains and losses with everything. You miss the resistance of paper a little, but you can get a marvellous flow. So much variety is possible. You cant overwork this, because its not a real surface. In watercolour, for instance, about three layers are the maximum. Beyond that it starts to get muddy. Here you can put anything on anything. You can put a bright, bright blue on top of an intense yellow.

In 2010, Hockney got his first iPad and was immediately converted to using that instead. I thought the iPhone was great, but this takes it to a new level simply because its eight times the size of the iPhone, as big as a reasonably sized sketchbook.

One discovery that came with the iPad was that the process of drawing could be re-run at the tap of a finger. The screen goes blank again, then lines and washes reappear one after another, apparently of their own accord. The result is, in effect, a performing drawing.