s story The Cursed Artist It is often used to inject mystery and intrigue into the lives of great painters, the tortured souls who worked all day for a pittance, their fingers splattered to the bone, and eked out a living on a mind-destroying diet of absinthe and stale bread. Vincent van Gogh was one painter to be so called; Charm Soutine was another. David Hockney is definitely not—and the intoxicating, carefree photographs of his former dealer John Kasmin show why.
Kasmin’s Camera At Lyndsay Ingram Gallery in Mayfair, London, Kasmin documents their enduring friendship and professional partnership with Hockney, which dates back to 1960. They travelled together, holidayed together, worked together, and Kasmin’s photographs depict their shared Riley life. The colour photographs show a tight-knit group of young men, slim, tanned, half-naked – and very happy – lounging in the French sun, cigarettes permanently dangling from their hands, Kasmin a voyeur. Several of the images are full of sexuality and desire. In one, the late British painter Patrick Proctor sits on the edge of his bed smoking a joint, naked except for a pair of tiny shorts. Hockney, also naked, lies behind him reading a newspaper. They look blissfully post-coital.
“Nowadays, taking photos is not something that everyone does,” Kasmin says in a video produced for the exhibition. “When I opened the gallery, my career and my friends overlapped, and that’s why I started taking photos. Looking at photos is an extremely useful resource, and it’s one of the ways you organize your memories.”
Other artists, dealers and critics, including Leo Castelli, Helen Frankenthaler, Jules Olitski, Howard Hodgkin, Ossie Clark and Cecilia Birtwell, also appear in the photographs, all happy to serve as inspiration. Many of the photographs are in black and white. Others document Kasmin’s adventures in Africa and the English countryside with his friend, the late travel writer and novelist Bruce Chatwin. Chatwin, who is uncomfortable in front of the camera and mostly expressionless, looks like the archetypal explorer; beige shorts, wool knee socks, rosy, tanned cheeks. They look like they’re having a blast.
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Helen Frankenthaler and Anthony Caro pose before an ancient throne on the island of Torcello, Venice, 1966.
Image courtesy of Lindsay Graham Gallery
Gallery owner Lyndsay Ingram told reporters: “This exhibition gives people a taste of what the art world was like 50 years ago, when artists and gallery owners were friends and worked together.” Art News“The closeness of their relationship is palpable in these photographs. You really get the sense that they were all part of the same team in their lives. These photographs reveal a sense of shared purpose that is perhaps lost on many artists and galleries in today’s climate, but is reassuring to see that it is possible. In fact, since many of these artists went on to become some of the most important artists of their generation, this shared sense of purpose may not only be possible but desirable, even necessary for lasting success.”
Hockney’s striking blond hair illuminates most of the photographs in the exhibition. The relationship between him and Kasmin was clearly strong and trusting. Hockney is sometimes photographed asleep, exhausted from his long journey to India.
Helen Frankenthaler in her studio in New York, circa 1965
Image source: Lyndsay Ingram Gallery
“I have sent [Hockney] He was a student at the Royal College of Art at the time, and a letter inviting him to tea arrived in Kasmin’s mailbox. The Telegraph 2013. “He had a black crew cut, National Health glasses, was very shy and very poor. I liked his work so I tried to get him represented by the Marlborough gallery where I worked. They thought it was a bit sloppy and silly so I started selling the odd painting for seven or eight pounds, no commission. When I set up my own gallery in 1963, Hockney was one of the first representatives I arranged.”
Kasmin’s Camera The exhibition will be on view at the Lyndsay Ingram Gallery until August 23.
