IT is not unusual for detritus to help an artist win the prestigious Turner Prize – a wonky bin was the absurd centrepiece of Martin Boyce’s winning entry last year.
And while David Hockney, the greatest living Yorkshireman, says some rubbish scraps can add style to a work of art, his unique landscapes of his beloved Wolds – now on display at the Royal Academy – predominantly feature a blemish-free environment.
Contrast this with the dumped tyres, gas canisters and television sets that will greet those who embark upon the soon-to-be-launched Hockney Trail as tourism bosses capitalise upon the artist’s popularity.
Unless East Riding Council and Welcome To Yorkshire ensure that this mess is cleared up, and flytippers prosecuted, they will undermine the opportunity afforded by the Bradford-born painter’s decision to swap California for the more bracing East Yorkshire.
After all, David Hockney devotees will visit these parts in the expectation of viewing some of this country’s finest scenery – and not a scrap yard.