For the past three years, David Hockney and his longtime partner, Jean-Pierre (JP) Gonçalves de Lima, have lived in a remote seventeenth-century cottage in France’s Normandy region. They first saw the home in 2018, during an impromptu visit to the area, and they were so enamored that they made an offer to buy it on the spot. A traditional, low-ceilinged house surrounded by outbuildings, it sits beside a river amid gently rolling hills. Gonçalves de Lima took the lead in restoring the property, converting a cider-press building into a skylit art studio. On the mezzanine, Hockney’s longtime assistant Jonathan Wilkinson set up a large-format, twelve-color printer. Hockney has spent the pandemic almost entirely at the house, but he has remained remarkably connected to the outside world, organizing museum shows, taking calls from friends, and restlessly pursuing new avenues for his work. A few days after Christmas, I drove with my husband, the cartoonist Art Spiegelman, and our daughter, the writer Nadja Spiegelman, along the narrow, tree-lined roads leading to the home. I had visited the previous year as well, and, in the time since, a gate and an intercom had been installed at the entrance, to keep out the Hockney fans who trek to the property almost daily in hopes of meeting him.