In Views of Hotel Well I, David Hockney invites us into a sun-drenched courtyard that feels at once intimate and expansive. The scene centres on a quiet well, but nothing about the composition is static. Walls tilt, pathways shift, and the architecture seems to open and fold back on itself, as though we are moving through the space rather than simply looking at it.

Created during the mid-1980s, when Hockney was deeply engaged with rethinking perspective, the work reflects his refusal to accept a single, fixed viewpoint. Instead, he constructs the courtyard as a sequence of glances — fragments of looking assembled into a unified whole. The result is both playful and immersive. We sense the warmth of Mexico, the stillness of midday light, and the subtle hum of lived experience, yet the image remains dynamic, almost musical in its rhythm.

Colour plays a vital role. Clear blues, warm terracottas, and crisp architectural lines create a composition that feels structured yet buoyant. The geometry anchors the scene, but the shifting angles keep it alive. Hockney transforms an ordinary architectural setting into a meditation on perception itself — how memory, movement, and time shape what we see.

Rather than documenting a place, Hockney captures the experience of being there. The courtyard becomes less a physical location and more a theatre of vision: a space where light, structure, and imagination converge. In doing so, Views of Hotel Well I exemplifies Hockney’s enduring curiosity about how we inhabit the world visually — and how art can expand that experience beyond the limits of a single glance.