12/06/2026
David Hockney was the reason I do what I do.
As a boy, the first work of art that truly entered my consciousness was Mr and Mrs Clark and Percy. First encountered in a catalogue, I later stood in front of it at the Tate on a school trip to London.
I can still remember the feeling.
Until then, art had largely existed for me in books. Suddenly it felt alive. Standing before that painting was like standing in the room with its protagonists. It felt real and yet illusory. The light, the colour, the tension, the extraordinary control of line – I fell utterly under its spell.
It was the first time a work of art had truly moved me.
I have returned to that painting many times since. It became my true north; the work against which I measured so much of what followed and a reminder of the moment art first got under my skin.
That encounter inspired me to draw, to paint, to attend art school, to briefly become a published illustrator, and ultimately dedicate my life and career to art and to truly see. Every collection I’ve helped build, every masterpiece I’ve handled, and every opportunity I’ve been fortunate enough to experience can be traced back, in some small way, to that moment.
No other artist can be held so singularly responsible for the path my life took.
David Hockney lived a long, extraordinary and hugely influential life, but his passing still feels profound. For as long as I can remember he has been a constant presence: curious, inventive, prolific and endlessly inspiring.
Few artists change the history of art.
Fewer still change lives.
David Hockney did both.
Thank you, David.
