My favorite memory w/ David
Of all the memories I have of David Hockney over the years, one remains my favorite.
Every year I hosted a Christmas tree party. And in 1985, it was heald at the Castle. On display were two ginormous christmas trees; one was decorated; one wasn't. It represented what was and what is. The only requirement was that each guest bring an ornament for the tree.
As people arrived that evening, David walked through the front door, found me almost immediately, and handed me a small canvas. On it was a painted angel—simple, colorful, and unmistakably David.
I looked at it and thanked him.
He smiled and said, “Don’t hang it yet. It’s still wet.”
That was David.
Not someone who went out and bought an ornament. Not someone who delegated the task to an assistant. He painted one himself and, true to form, finished it at the very last moment.
The angel still hangs in my home today.
Over the years I accumulated many memories of David, along with drawings, photographs, invitations, notes, and other small treasures that now feel even more precious. In recent years we didn’t see each other as much, but my affection for him never diminished.
David was one of the most generous people I ever knew—not just with his art, but with his curiosity, friendship, and enthusiasm for life. He possessed a rare ability to make the ordinary seem extraordinary, to see the world differently and encourage others to do the same.
People often speak of the color David brought to the world through his paintings. For those of us fortunate enough to know him personally, he brought color into our lives as well.
Every Christmas when I look at this little angel, I smile and hear his voice once again:
“Don’t hang it yet. It’s still wet.”
And that, somehow, is the perfect memory of David Hockney.
— Harold I. Huttas
Who Is Harold?
From his earliest days in Los Angeles, Harold Huttas has woven dance and art into every aspect of his professional and philanthropic life. A founder and chair of Friends of the Joffrey Ballet and an early supporter of the Los Angeles Music Center and MOCA, he championed world-class dance and contemporary art while simultaneously building a major printing and media enterprise. He turned his “connector” instincts into a natural merging of business and philanthropy—inviting clients and friends to performances, museum openings, gallery shows, and intimate gatherings with artists, dancers, and designers, often giving people access to cultural experiences they would never have sought on their own. He deepened that commitment through AIDS-related work, using art and performance as engines for change: co‑chairing and producing APLA’s landmark “Commitment to Life” events, founding art auctions, and helping lead AMFAR’s ART AGAINST AIDS benefits in Los Angeles and Dallas. Even inside his own plant, he created Harold’s Gallery to showcase visual artists—designers, illustrators, photographers—ensuring they received 100% of the proceeds from their work. Across decades, his life tells a consistent story: a profound belief that dance and art are not just passions, but powerful tools for building community, raising consciousness, and transforming lives.