Warhol goes "pop" | TheArticle
- Select a language for the TTS:
- UK English Female
- UK English Male
- US English Female
- US English Male
- Australian Female
- Australian Male
- Language selected: (auto detect) - EN

Play all audios:

Four years ago, New York’s Jewish Museum put on an exhibition of Andy Warhol’s images of Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor. Becoming Jewish was ostensibly about conversion. Monroe
converted in 1956 when she married Arthur Miller and Taylor converted three years later. It was a crucial moment in the journey of America’s Jews from immigrants to main street.
Becoming Jewish was not, of course, about Jewishness or conversion. It was about fame and celebrity, like everything else Warhol did. Monroe and Taylor were two of the great figures of
post-war Hollywood’s golden age. They were the very embodiment of beauty, success and fame. They and Warhol were contemporaries, born within a few years of each other and for Warhol the key
attraction was obvious. He loved celebrity and they don’t come more famous than these Hollywood stars. “My idea of a good picture,” he said, “is one that’s in focus of a famous person.”
Warhol became famous in the early 1960s with his silkscreen works, Campbell’s Soup Cans (1962), Marilyn Diptych (1962) and Nine Jackies (1964) and his experimental film, Chelsea Girls
(1966). He was the darling of Pop Art. In November 1962 he had his breakthrough exhibition in New York at Eleanor Ward’s Stable Gallery. It included the works Marilyn Diptych, 100 Soup Cans,
100 Coke Bottles, and 100 Dollar Bills. His images were full of wit and bright colours, and his subject matter included the consumer society and, of course, the greatest subject of the
sixties — America.
Warhol wasn’t just about Pop Art. There was also camp, sex and rock and roll. In the late 1960s he managed The Velvet Underground and in 1969 founded Interview magazine. Susan Sontag wrote
her famous essay, “Notes on Camp” soon after meeting Warhol. He was the very embodiment of camp and the new avant-garde: a mix of gay people, drag queens, consumerism, shock, rock and
celebrity. Just right for the times.
In 1976 Warhol was in New York with a group of people watching the fireworks marking the bi-centennial. “It’s looks like a movie,” someone said. “A TV movie,” Warhol replied. Classic Warhol.
In those days a TV movie was synonymous with trash, no depth, no high culture, no history or tradition. Just like his screenprints of coke bottles or Elvis.
The 1970s were a quiet time for Warhol, but he took off again in the celebrity-obsessed 1980s. In 1980 he made his portrait of Debbie Harry, soon followed by images of Edward Kennedy and
Jane Fonda. In November 1984 Vanity Fair commissioned Warhol to create a full colour illustration of Prince for an article titled “Purple Fame.” He was a regular at Studio 54 in the heyday
of disco and was photographed with Mick Jagger and Donald Trump, Elton John and Brooke Shields.
This major retrospective at Tate Modern is their first Warhol exhibition for almost 20 years. The irony is that an exhibition designed to bring in huge crowds will only be seen now online,
since the museum has been closed because of Coronavirus.
It’s ironic because Warhol’s moment has passed anyway. From the Sixties to the Eighties, Warhol was always a product of his time, famous for being famous. Between 1963-68 he made more than
sixty films. Who can name any of them now? Who under fifty has even heard of the Factory, Nico or Candy Darling? “Andy Warhol was my hero,” said Camille Paglia. Camille, who?
The Platinum fright-wigs, Studio 54, an eight-hour film of the Empire State Building… All these belong in a museum, a brief cultural moment in New York which has gone forever. So much of the
celebrity was about shock. Images of Mao and Hammer and Sickle, another of an electric chair. A thirty-five minute film of a blow-job, a five and a half hour film of his gay lover,
sleeping.
Almost half a century later none of it is shocking now. And without the shock, it’s not very interesting either. In a devastating review in The New Statesman, “When stardust loses its
sparkle”, one of our best art critics, Michael Prodger, writes, “his historical moment has passed.”
“Andy Warhol” runs at Tate Modern and can be viewed online here.
By proceeding, you agree to our Terms & Conditions and our Privacy Policy.
If an account exists for this email address, you will shortly receive an email from us. You will then need to:
Please note, this link will only be valid for 24 hours. If you do not receive our email, please check your Junk Mail folder and add [email protected] to your safe list.