As sure as the seasons change yet another David Hockney exhibition has opened in London. It’s a forgivable last gasp given his age but many weary critics sighed when it was announced because it promised more output from Hockney’s stubborn persistence with the iPad.

To Hockney’s credit, most of the complaints about his iPad works (they look too flat, colours shift harshly without blends, the jarring contrast between wonky finger marks and pixel perfect stamps used with repetition, etc) might best be described as unfair scrutiny that’s come about not because of how they are made, but how they are shown. Galleries and museums wouldn’t dare suggest that an oil on canvas looks better as an image on your smartphone, but that’s exactly what they’re doing in reverse when they scale up Hockney’s digital paintings by 350% and print them on paper. The basic curatorial desire not to bottleneck a show around a series of small tablets has repeatedly resulted in disappointing displays of digital work shown out of context.

Until now.

The first of two displays to smartly capitalise on the unique qualities of Hockney’s iPad quirks is a simple install that reminded me of the origin story of his digital work about how he would make and send daily iPhone drawings of flower bouquets to his friends. Most people send cheery texts to brighten someone’s day. Artists create visual expressions of joy, and Serpentine has decided to lift the mood in their cafe by installing a billboard scale Hockney in the garden. Something childlike and magical happens when you see Hockney’s ramshackle treehouse blown up to life size. Only visible from afar, the blossoming tree provides the perfect backdrop for a lazy Sunday brunch and it’s bright blue sky is a hopeful reminder that spring is coming. As you’ll see in the photo below, it utterly transforms the garden’s vibe on a grey day.

It’s a smart use of his imagery, but that success is dwarfed by the centrepiece of the show: a reworking of images Hockney originally created during the first COVID lockdown as a way to fill his time and chart the seasons as they changed the landscape around his northern France studio. Inspired by the Bayeux Tapestry and Chinese scrolls, or side-scrolling video games for those that need a modern reference, Hockney’s ‘A Year in Normandie, 2020-2021’ is a composite of 100 iPad drawings in which you can witness Winter transition to Spring, Summer, Autumn and back again as you slowly wind your way around the perimeter of the gallery.

Almost as long as Big Ben’s tower is tall, the 88 cm x 80.1 metre artwork is an artistic exploitation of technology to reconfigure Hockney’s works into something that simply wouldn’t be easy or feasible on canvas. Output onto paper but brilliantly lit so it appears to glow like a digital screen, the seemingly endless scroll draws you through the changes in seasons. The experience is a bit like watching one long continuous take in a movie and you might find yourself looking for the clever ways in which the separate images have been stitched together. Some are more obvious than others but the pure joy comes in scattered moments, such as realising the drab grey skies have transformed into a glorious blue hue, or suddenly seeing spring flowers blossom or bare tree branches covered by green canopies before their leaves fall back to the ground in Autumn. All while his farmhouse continues to pop up like cameos from a recurring minor character in your favourite TV series.

Eventually you’ll find yourself back at the beginning and probably want to go round again, thankful that it’s not a theme park ride with a long queue. Just keep circling. I did three loops. What makes this such a success is the passage of time conveyed through the spectacle of length. If you’ve got a fast pace you can traverse all the seasons in about a minute, but you’ll encounter benches along the way inviting you to slow down and study the scenes. I tried, but in doing so was reminded about the issues I have with Hockney’s iPad works. His wayward finger strokes and patterned stamps just don’t entice my eyes in the same way that the brush marks in a streak of paint draws my focus.

Which might explain why the show also includes 10 actual acrylic on canvas paintings that are… fine. I’m not really sure why they’re here other than to remind you that he also still uses real paint and to justify some of the gift shop merch. To Serpentine’s credit, Hockney’s bright colours and quirky flourishes look fantastic on swag. From tea towels and serving trays to throw pillows and wearables, fashionable art lovers will want to brighten up their wardrobe and living spaces with the Hockney Spring/Summer ‘26 Collection. Everyone else can rejoice that the exhibit is free.