Andy Warhol

In my search for me time this weekend, I decided to do something I haven't done in about 2 years - I took myself to the Art Gallery of Ontario. I decided that I should stop talking about how great it would be to see the Andy Warhol exhibit, and so, I said to myself "Self, let's go!" And I went.

The exhibit itself is good. I've had a fascination with Andy Warhol's work for a little while now, and I've briefly starting reading a biography on him. He was an interesting man, and an even more interesting artist. It was a treat to see a representative collection of Andy's works - works presented as they were intended to be presented, instead of being a reproduction on a t-shirt or some other type of pop culture kitsch. Although those pieces still are effectively elements of the Andy Warhol experience, there is something to be said for seeing the real thing.

If you want to know all about Andy Warhol, just look at the surface of my paintings and films and me, and there I am. There's nothing behind it.
- Andy Warhol

I was pleasantly surprised by the video art pieces that were on display. I had no idea that Andy was into this kind of art, and this was my first experience seeing any of it. His video works are in and of themselves striking because they are almost key in beginning to understand Andy's fascination with voyerism. His "screen tests" were shots of faces of people asked to stand in front of camera for 2 -3 minutes without blinking. You can almost see the point for a lot of people where the narcissitic element of being video taped ends and the realm of voyerism, or being watched helplessly begins.

I'm afraid if you look at a thing long enough, it loses all its meaning.
- Andy Warhol


I was particularly interesting in the piece entitled "Blow Job", which is actually a video of a man's face taken as he is receiving fellatio. What's most engaging is the dissociative sense that one gets from being the voyeur as in one is watching what should be a seemingly private moment, drinking it in for the sake of watching. Yet, the subject has allowed himself to be on the screen to view. Furthermore, the subject seems to only be half in the moment, as you can tell that he always conscious of the camera that is sharing the experience with him - as if he is being a voyeur of us the audience as we stare at him. This awareness of the "real but not quite real" was very typical of Andy. There was very little under the surface, because you were staring at the surface subject and the dissociative voyerism didn't allow you to engage further. It is deeply superficial.

I am a deeply superficial person.
- Andy Warhol

I was also very excited to begin to see many of Andy's disaster series. I have to confess, like most, I am best acquainted with Andy's works based on pop icons. I didn't know about the paintings that related to death and destruction (although there are even elements of this in his pop work too). There was something bouffonesque about it - you wanted to look at it, you wanted to think of it as art, yet it didn't feel quite right in the pit of your stomach. How could gore be art? Can we observe death like so and feel good about it? What's even funnier, is that I found myself most engaged by the piece "White 1947", which consists of a picture of a woman which is quite picturesque. Little would make you initially see it's gruesome nature. Although it is very beautiful, it is actually a picture from a newspaper or Life magazine of a woman who committed suicide by jumping off the Empire State building and landed on top of a diplomatic limo. She's so beautiful in a classical way - yet we are staring a little else but the beauty of death.

Death means a lot of money, honey. Death can really make you look like a star.
- Andy Warhol

What for me was the final engaging aspect was going into the gift shop after the show and finding myself surrounded by Andy Warhol art collectibles similar to what you find here. Somehow, it was just ironic. It was here I found myself smiling thinking "Here is the true Andy Warhol experience". There were plastic Marilyn lips, Jackie paperweights, and reproductions of the whole Andy experience. It was a commercialisation of Andy's voyerism. It was his 15 minutes of fame wrapped in plastic. And perhaps, if you don't know why I think this ironic, one should just think about Andy's work a little and see if you come to the same conclusion.

I love Los Angeles. I love Hollywood. They're beautiful. Everybody's plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic.
- Andy Warhol