The Department for Culture, Media and Sport has just pulled a rabbit out of the hat. David Hockney’s Los Angeles home, a sun-drenched ‘peaceful gay paradise’ painted in his 1967 masterpiece ‘A Bigger Splash’, has been listed as a landmark of LGBTQ+ history. But this is not just about art. It’s about the power dynamics in Whitehall’s ongoing culture war.
Sources tell me the decision was pushed through by a quiet coalition of civil servants and Labour backbenchers who are tired of the party’s recent caution on identity issues. They saw an opportunity. The listing comes ahead of the 50th anniversary of the partial decriminalisation of homosexuality in England and Wales. Timing is everything in this game.
This is a win for the ‘soft left’ faction within the department. They’ve been battling Treasury orthodoxy that views such listings as ‘virtue signalling’ with no economic return. But the Hockney brand has commercial heft. His work sells for millions. The National Gallery’s current Hockney exhibition is a box-office smash. The Treasury can’t argue with that.
Yet the real story is the backbench rebellion that almost derailed it. A group of northern MPs, many with socially conservative leanings, tried to block the listing. They argued that public money should not be spent on ‘celebrating lifestyles that undermine family values’. Their amendment was defeated by a margin of just 12 votes. Whipping on this was delicate. The chief whip had to call in favours from MPs who normally vote on economic lines.
Polling shows why the leadership is nervous. YouGov data from last month reveals that while 68% of under-35s support such listings, only 41% of over-65s do. Marginal seats in the Midlands and North are held by razor-thin majorities. One Labour strategist told me: “We cannot afford to be seen as the party of London elites and their subcultures.”
But the Hockney listing has its own internal logic. It is not just any gay man’s home. Hockney is a national treasure, a Yorkshire lad who conquered the world. His work is deeply English, even when it swims in Californian pools. The listing frames his sexuality as part of his Englishness, not in opposition to it. That is a clever narrative shift.
The announcement was timed for the quiet summer recess, a classic Whitehall move. The press conference was low-key. The minister did not crow about it. Instead, she focused on the “cultural significance” of the property. The word ‘gay’ was barely mentioned. This is intentional. They want the listing to sink in without provoking a backlash.
But the culture war never sleeps. The right-wing press is already sniffing around. The Daily Telegraph has a piece tomorrow questioning the “relentless politicisation of our heritage”. The shadow culture secretary will be pushed to oppose the listing on Morning Television. She will dodge. The opposition is split: socially liberal Tories support it, the old guard do not.
Inside the Department for Culture, the real battle was over funding. The listing does not come with a grant to maintain the property. Hockney’s house is privately owned. So the cost to the state is negligible. That neutralised the Treasury’s objections. But sources tell me the fight over future listings will be fierce. A planned listing of the former home of Oscar Wilde has already been delayed.
What does this tell us about ‘The Game’? It shows that the government can still make bold cultural moves when the price is low. It shows that the Labour left can still win coalition battles, but only on non-economic issues. And it shows that the Conservative party is too divided on social issues to mount an effective opposition.
For Hockney, now 86 and living in Normandy, the listing is a quiet triumph. He has always said his art is about joy, not politics. But in today’s Britain, everything is political. Even a splash in a swimming pool.
