Hockney at the Met, was a tremendous review of the artist's career. Exhibiting a handful of pieces that to some are considered the strongest work he’s ever produced. The show begins with his earliest work and travels to his latest years. The two middle rooms of the Met exhibition were my particular favorite. Containing paintings I imagine that are still warm from the sun, composed in their flat, pastel totalities. Images of leisure and a specific kind of California wealth and social-strata specific to where Hockney was in his career at the time. It is easy to embrace the formal calmness in this work. I find myself reading to much into what I perceive to be a somber group of pools, still figures, and vacant splashes. I loved Portrait Of An Artist (Pool with Two Figures) painted in the early 70’s, and American Collectors (Fred and Marcia Weisman) painted in the late 60’s. De Chirico meets a contemporary blasé’ness, a word I made up to fit a feeling. A warm sun- soaked stagnation of the most fortunate kind. I guess what I’m sensing is the rise, and maybe always present social disposition or hidden irony emanated from the perfection of these finely executed and choreographed spaces. The power of collectors and of the art market and mutual dependencies, and also of personal relationships and hopes changing into different realities. In the rooms leading towards the exit, huge canvases are filled with brightly illuminated explorations of interior and exterior spaces. Drawing from the bright colors of a painter like Matisse, these canvases will be sure to lift your spirits, away from thoughts of art markets, and power relationships. Upon exiting you can even snag a Hockney original lithograph for 12,000$ on your way out.