Andy Warhol.

Transcription

1 Andy Warhol by Richard Avedon by Greg Gorman

2 Artist s Website: Link to Gallery Pages: Biography: The reigning king of pop art, Andy Warhol was an icon of of his age, an artist whose work and personality reflect the contours of the turbulent 1960s. Consumer products, sexual liberation, rock music, drug use, tragic death, and a heavy dose of shopping the cultural phenomena that defined the decade are all on display in his art. Though he is best known for portraits of Elizabeth Taylor, deadpan paintings of Campbell s soup cans, or polaroids of himself in a fright wig, Warhol s legacy might be distilled in a single lyric by The Velvet Underground, the band that Warhol managed and included in his multimedia performances known as Exploding Plastic Inevitable (EPI) ( ): I ll be your mirror, reflect what you are, in case you don t know. Warhol put his name and a peelable silk-screened banana on the cover of the band s first album. He was the kind of artist who loved these double-moves, daring you to see the queer eroticism in his cut-and-dry imagery, promoting his name by pretending to efface it, and insisting on his individuality of expression while embracing the machine-like production of art. Though remarkably shy and reserved at times, Warhol found a way to make art of nearly everything he did, experimenting with a prolific variety of artistic media. From the early 1950s to his death in 1987, he was a conspicuous contributor to the realms of commercial illustration, graphic design, painting, printmaking, celebrity portraiture, performance art, and film. His artistic intuition and commercial success generated an extraordinary cult of celebrity around him, one that remains strong long after his death. Early Life

3 Born Andrew Warhola on August 6, 1928, in the neighborhood of Oakland in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, Andy Warhol's parents were Slovakian immigrants. His father, Ondrej Warhola, was a construction worker, while his mother, Julia Warhola, was an embroiderer. They were devout Byzantine Catholics who attended mass regularly, and maintained much of their Slovakian culture and heritage while living in one of Pittsburgh's Eastern European ethnic enclaves. At the age of 8, Warhol contracted Chorea also known as St. Vitus's Dance a rare and sometimes fatal disease of the nervous system that left him bedridden for several months. It was during these months, while Warhol was sick in bed, that his mother, herself a skillful artist, gave him his first drawing lessons. Drawing soon became Warhol's favorite childhood pastime. He was also an avid fan of the movies, and when his mother bought him a camera at the age of 9 he took up photography as well, developing film in a makeshift darkroom he set up in their basement. Warhol attended Holmes Elementary school and took the free art classes offered at the Carnegie Institute (now the Carnegie Museum of Art) in Pittsburgh. In 1942, at the age of 14, Warhol again suffered a tragedy when his father passed away from a jaundiced liver. Warhol was so upset that he could not attend his father's funeral, and he hid under his bed throughout the wake. Warhol's father had recognized his son's artistic talents, and in his will he dictated that his life savings go toward Warhol's college education. That same year, Warhol began at Schenley High School, and upon graduating, in 1945, he enrolled at the Carnegie Institute for Technology (now Carnegie Mellon University) to study pictorial design Artist Statement: "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." Resume/Vita: 1948 Art Director of student art magazine, Cano 1949 Bachelor of Fine Arts, Carnegie Institute of Technology, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania 1951 Received an Art Directors Club Metal for newspaper illustration advertising the CBS radio feature THE NATION S NIGHTMARE 1952 First solo exhibition, Fifty Drawings Based on the Writings of Truman Capote, Hugo Gallery, NY 1953 Produced his first illustrated book, A is an Alphabet and Love is a Pink Cake

4 1954 Loft Gallery, New York City, NY Self-published illustrated book 25 Cats Named Sam and One Blue Pussy 1955 The Museum of Modern Art, 1957 Self-published A Gold Book Formed Andy Warhol Enterprises 1959 Self-published Wild Raspberries 1962 Ferus Gallery, Los Angeles, CA Stable Gallery, New York City, NY 1963 Guggenheim Museum, New York City, NY Washington Gallery of Modern Art, Washington D.C Founded his studio The Factory in New York 1965 Institute of Contemporary Art, Philadelphia, PA 1966 Published the print editions Kiss, Jacqueline Kennedy, Banana, and Self- Portrait 1970 Pasadena Art Museum, Pasadena, CA 1976 Wurttembergische Kunstverein, Stuttgart, Germany 1977 Andy Warhol s Folk and Funk, Museum of American Folk Art, New York City, NY Begins to frequent the nightclub Studio Kunsthaus Zurich, Zurich, Switzerland 1979 Andy Warhol: Portraits of the 70s, Whitney Museum of American Art, New York City, NY 1980 Museum of Ludwig, Cologne, Germany Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam, Amsterdam, Netherlands 1984 Collaborations: Jean-Michael Basquiat, Francesco Clemente Andy Warhol, Kunsthaus Zurich, Zurich, Switzerland

5 Reviews/Articles: The Rise of Andy Warhol Robert Hughes February 18, 1982 Issue To say that Andy Warhol is a famous artist is to utter the merest commonplace. But what kind of fame does he enjoy? If the most famous artist in America is Andrew Wyeth, and the second most famous is LeRoy Neiman (Hugh Hefner s court painter, inventor of the Playboy femlin, and drawer of football stars for CBS), then Warhol is the third. Wyeth, because his work suggests a frugal, bare-bones rectitude, glazed by nostalgia but incarnated in real objects, which millions of people look back upon as the lost marrow of American history. Neiman, because millions of people watch sports programs, read Playboy, and will take any amount of glib abstract-expressionist slather as long as it adorns a recognizable and pert pair of jugs. But Warhol? What size of public likes his work, or even knows it at first hand? Not as big as Wyeth s or Neiman s. To most of the people who have heard of him, he is a name handed down from a distant museum-culture, stuck to a memorable face: a cashiered Latin teacher in a pale fiber wig, the guy who paints soup cans and knows all the movie stars. To a smaller but international public, he is the last of the truly successful social portraitists, climbing from face to face in a silent delirium of snobbery, a man so interested in elites that he has his own society magazine. But Warhol has never been a popular artist in the sense that Andrew Wyeth is or Sir Edwin Landseer was. That kind of popularity entails being seen as a normal (and hence, exemplary) person from whom extraordinary things emerge. Warhol s public character for the last twenty years has been the opposite: an abnormal figure (silent, withdrawn, eminently visible but opaque, and a bit malevolent) who praises banality. He fulfills Stuart Davis s definition of the new American artist, a cool Spectator-Reporter at an Arena of Hot Events. But no mass public has ever felt at ease with Warhol s work. Surely, people feel, there must be something empty about a man who expresses no strong leanings, who greets everything with the same uh, gee, great. Art s other Andy, the Wyeth, would not do that. Nor would the midcult heroes of The Agony and the Ecstasy and Lust for Life. They would discriminate between experiences, which is what artists are meant to do for us. Link to article above: A Critic at Large January 11, 2010 Issue

6 Top of the Pops Did Andy Warhol change everything? By Louis Menand Andy Warhol, New York City, August 14, Photograph by Richard Avedon / 2010 the Richard Avedon Foundation Andy Warhol s parents came from a village in the Carpathian Mountains, in what is now Slovakia. They immigrated to Pittsburgh, where, in 1928, Andy was born, the youngest of four children. Warhol s father was a construction worker, and he died, of peritonitis, when Andy was thirteen; but he had saved enough money for his son to go to college, since it was obvious that Andy was an unusual and talented child. Warhol entered the Carnegie Institute of Technology (now Carnegie Mellon) when he was seventeen, and majored in pictorial design. He struggled at first. He was younger than most of the other students, many of whom were veterans attending on the G.I. Bill; he was also possibly dyslexic. But he eventually became an admired, and sometimes controversial, figure at the school. He had an ethereality that was oddly charismatic like an angel in the sky is the way one of his classmates remembered him. After he graduated, in June, 1949, he moved to New York City, where he found work as an illustrator. By 1960, Warhol had become one of the most successful commercial artists in New York. He drew, with a distinctive and recognizable line, magazine illustrations, advertisements, book jackets, and album covers, and he owned a four-story town house on the Upper East Side. But he had fine-art aspirations. His fey, slightly spacy air of ingenuousness was not a liability at advertising agencies and fashion magazines, but it was a problem in literary and

7 artistic circles, and especially among gays. Warhol was regarded as a slightly embarrassing groupie. Truman Capote, with whom he was briefly infatuated, called him a hopeless born loser. A terrible little man, the director of the Tibor de Nagy gallery, where the poet Frank O Hara hung out, is said to have described him. A very boring person, but you have to be nice to him because he might buy a painting. In 1958, after Jasper Johns s exhibition of the Flag paintings, at the Castelli Gallery, rocked the New York art world, Warhol became obsessed with Johns, and with Johns s collaborator and (many have assumed) lover Robert Rauschenberg. They, too, were cool; Warhol later decided that he was too swish for them. Warhol s big break finally came in 1962, with a one-man exhibition at the Ferus Gallery, in Los Angeles. This was 32 Campbell s Soup Cans thirty-two paintings of soup cans, each a different flavor. A New York show soon followed, and by 1964, the year he exhibited the Brillo Soap Pads Box sculptures, he was being written up in Time. He was no longer on the outside of the windowpane. Warhol had already begun making movies. He also produced the Velvet Underground, and he wrote (using a tape recorder) a novel, entitled a. In the mid-nineteen-sixties, his studio on East Forty-seventh Street, known as the Factory, was a center of avant-garde activity. Virtually everyone fashionable in art, ideas, and entertainment passed through it, from Mick Jagger and Bob Dylan to Susan Sontag and John Ashbery. Amphetamines were the drug of choice in the Factory; transvestism was the fashion. Warhol himself wore jeans and took only prescription diet pills, but he developed a carapace of inscrutability. He could be generous and he could be withholding, and you never knew which he would choose the classic technique of the passive-aggressive. Within the Factory, he was known as Drella, after the two sides of his personality, Dracula and Cinderella. As an artist, he was astonishingly productive and a great risk-taker. At a time when it seemed that everyone was going too far, he went farther. Then, in 1968, a paranoid schizophrenic named Valerie Solanas shot Warhol and nearly killed him, and although he returned to painting and to a jet-set social life, his work was never again on the leading edge of the contemporary arts. He died in New York Hospital, after a routine operation, in He was fifty-eight. There are some terrific books about Warhol and the nineteen-sixties, including Warhol s own wonderfully funny and clever memoir, written with Pat Hackett, POPism (1980). The recently published Pop: The Genius of Andy Warhol, by Tony Scherman and David Dalton, is, basically, the familiar story. It is not as richly informative as Steven Watson s monumental group biography of Warhol and his circle, Factory Made (2003), or as critically imaginative as Wayne Koestenbaum s Andy Warhol (2001), but it is knowledgeable and smart, it presents much fresh material (Dalton and his sister, Sarah, were close to Warhol in the nineteen-sixties), and it s a lot of fun to read. Anyone who writes about Warhol faces two meta-problems, one having to do with the man and the other with the work. It should be a rule when writing about Warhol never to take anything he said completely seriously, and it would be a rule, probably, if there were not always one or two irresistible bits that suit the writer s purpose. From the beginning, Warhol postured and prevaricated when he was interviewed, sometimes obviously but sometimes not so obviously. And the sources of several of his most apparently serious remarks a 1963 interview in ARTnews, by Gene Swenson, and a 1966 interview in the East Village Other, by Gretchen Berg were almost certainly doctored by the interviewers. Berg referred to her piece as a word collage, and in the ARTnews interview Warhol is made to refer to an article in The Hudson Review, a publication that was about as far outside his orbit as the Proceedings of the Modern Language Association. The essence of Warhol s genius was to eliminate the one aspect of a thing without which that thing would, to conventional ways of thinking, cease to be itself, and then to see what happened. He made movies of objects that never moved and used actors who could not act, and he made art that did not look like art. He wrote a novel without doing any writing. He had his mother sign his work, and he sent an actor, Allen Midgette, to impersonate him on a lecture tour (and, for a while, Midgette got away with it). He had other people make his paintings. And he demonstrated, almost every time he did this, that it didn t make any difference. His Brillo boxes were received as art, and his eight-hour movie of the Empire State Building was received as a movie. The people who saw someone pretending to be Andy Warhol believed that they had seen Andy Warhol. ( Andy helped me see into fame

8 and through it, Midgette later said.) The works that his mother signed and that other people made were sold as Warhols. And what he made up in interviews was quoted by critics to explain his intentions. Warhol wasn t hiding anything, and he wasn t out to trick anyone. He was only changing one rule, the most basic rule, of the game. He found that people just kept on playing. Warhol loved gossip. He spent hours on the phone every day keeping up with the scene, and he naturally populated his world with men and women who shared his taste. Quite a few of these later produced memoirs: Gerard Malanga, who was Warhol s principal assistant from 1963 to 1970; John Giorno, the star of Warhol s first film, Sleep (1963); Mary Woronov, who performed with the Velvet Underground and acted in some of the films; and the socalled superstars Janet Susan Mary Hoffman (a.k.a. Viva) and Isabelle Collin Dufresne (a.k.a. Ultra Violet). Other Factory figures notably Billy Linich (a.k.a. Billy Name), who was the de-facto chief of operations at the Factory; Brigid Berlin, a Fifth Avenue heiress and connoisseur of amphetamines; and the underground movie actor Taylor Mead were interviewed repeatedly over the years. So were various art-world figures associated with Warhol in the early stages of his career, particularly Emile de Antonio, a documentary filmmaker, and Henry Geldzahler, a curator of American painting and sculpture at the Met, both of whom introduced Warhol to artists, dealers, and collectors. Ivan Karp, who worked at the Castelli Gallery, and who discovered many of the Pop artists, gave a number of interviews. So did Irving Blum, who ran the Ferus Gallery, and who bought 32 Campbell s Soup Cans, and Robert Scull, a taxi tycoon and art collector, whose wife at the time was the subject of one of Warhol s earliest and most famous portrait paintings, Ethel Scull 36 Times, in (Some of these interviews are collected in The Autobiography and Sex Life of Andy Warhol, by John Wilcock, which is being republished early this year.) For the biographer, these sources have Handle with Care stamped all over them. On the art-world side, of course, the subjects have a professional or financial stake in Warhol s reputation. But, even on the personal side, people tend to become invested in their own version of events. Life at the Factory involved a lot of jockeying for Warhol s attention, a state of affairs that he encouraged, and that continued in spirit long after the life was over. These people were caught up in a system whose sole reward Warhol paid his assistants little and his actors nothing in the Factory years was proximity to the artist. In memorializing their experiences, they probably held disinterestedness to be about the least of their concerns. The culture around Warhol was a culture of high artifice its icon was the drag queen and the gossip, the posing, and the pretense were part of that. They do not make reliable history. Even on matters taken to be central to an understanding of the man, testimony can be contradictory. Scherman and Dalton, for example, mention Warhol s well-known discomfort with sex, and many others have claimed that Warhol disliked physical contact and was essentially a voyeur. That he was a voyeur there is little doubt. Warhol liked to hear people talk about sex, and he liked to watch. He was also self-conscious about his looks. He started going bald in his twenties, and he had a terrible complexion. If someone asked me, What s your problem? he says, in The Philosophy of Andy Warhol (1975), I d have to say Skin. (At one point, he had his nose sanded, which altered his appearance without improving it. His taste in wigs is a matter of opinion.) But, although Warhol probably did not have his first sexual experience until he was twenty-five, he had many boyfriends afterward, and one of his biographers, Victor Bockris, talked to a sexually well-travelled figure in the art world who had liaisons with Warhol in the early nineteen-sixties, and who reported that Warhol was (in Bockris s words) extremely good in bed. Giorno, who was good-looking and promiscuous, and who found Warhol a little pathetic, described him as passionate and persistent. Which puts the voyeurism in a somewhat different light. The point wasn t to avoid sex but to suspend the presumption that sexual intimacy requires privacy a presumption that Warhol played with in many of his movies. The soup cans pose an analogous difficulty. Some people who knew Warhol claim that he loved Campbell s soup because his mother had served it to him every day for lunch, and other people claim that he hated it, possibly for the same reason. Presumably, no one thought to ask Monet whether he loved haystacks, but the question seems important in Warhol s case because it goes to the other meta-problem in writing about him, which has to do with the significance of the iconography. Soup cans, Coca-Cola bottles, grocery cartons, movie stars, newspaper photos did he paint this stuff because he thought it was great or because he thought it was junk? Is his work a commentary on

9 the shallowness, repetitiveness, and commercialism of consumer culture, or is it a celebration of supermarkets and Hollywood, a romp with the vulgar a commentary on the highbrow Puritanism of the fine-art tradition? This is a subject on which Warhol was exceedingly coy: he usually said that he painted these things because they were easy to paint. And disagreement about which answer is the right answer began when Pop art began, and persists to this day. Scherman and Dalton think that Warhol wholeheartedly shared the twentieth-century American working class s ardor for the products of consumer culture. But the critic Gary Indiana, in his new book, Andy Warhol and the Can That Sold the World, says, I read into Warhol s ongoing enterprise a satirical contempt for the banality of postwar American life. You can find many iterations of both views in the critical literature. One reason this problem arises in the case of soup cans, Brillo boxes, and Coke bottles, and not in the case of haystacks, apples, and American flags, is the apparent literalism of the Pop image. Monet and Cézanne and Johns were clearly doing something to the objects they represented specifically, something painterly. Take an object. Do something to it. Do something else to it. Ditto was Johns s formula in the nineteen-fifties. Not doing something, specifically something painterly, seems very much the point of Warhol s early work. This was his version of how he got there (from POPism ): At five o clock one particular afternoon [probably in the summer of 1960] the doorbell rang and De [Emile de Antonio] came in and sat down. I poured Scotch for us, and then I went over to where two paintings I d done, each about six feet high and three feet wide, were propped, facing the wall. I turned them around and placed them side by side against the wall and then I backed away to take a look at them myself. One of them was a Coke bottle with Abstract Expressionist hash marks halfway up the side. The second one was just a stark, outlined Coke bottle in black and white. I didn t say a thing to De. I didn t have to he knew what I wanted to know. Well, look, Andy, he said after staring at them for a couple of minutes. One of these is a piece of shit, simply a little bit of everything. The other is remarkable it s our society, it s who we are, it s absolutely beautiful and naked, and you ought to destroy the first one and show the other. That afternoon was an important one for me. One might have reason to doubt that the conversation took place quite as described, but the passage is among those which are considered too good not to quote, because it supports the Pop changed everything theory of Warhol s art. The most distinguished proponent of that theory is Arthur Danto. In his latest book, Andy Warhol, Danto calls the moment when Warhol became a Pop artist the most mysterious transformation in the history of artistic creativity, and he says that it turned Warhol into the artist of the second half of the twentieth century. Danto embraces the Everyman view of Pop art: he thinks that Warhol knew, and was moved by, the same things his audience knew and was moved by (drag queens?), and that Andy s art is, in a way, a celebration as art of what every American knows. But that s not why he thinks that Warhol is so important. Danto is a professor of philosophy at Columbia; his wife, Barbara Westman, is a painter. In April, 1964, he went to see Warhol s show at the Stable gallery, on the Upper East Side. It was an event. The Stable was created in 1953, during the postwar boom in galleries specializing in contemporary American art part of what many people at the time talked about as the relocation of the capital of the art world from Paris to New York. Its owner, Eleanor Ward, had given Warhol his first major New York one-man exhibition, in November, 1962, in which he showed the Marilyn silk screens, along with other work. The following fall, Warhol had a second show at the Ferus, in Los Angeles, consisting entirely of silk screens of identical images of Elvis Presley. By the time of the 1964 Stable show, he was famous, partly because Pop had by then become a recognized school of painting but also because, a week before the show opened, he had been in a controversy involving the World s Fair, which was about to open in Queens. At the invitation of the architect Philip Johnson, Warhol had created a work for the New York State Pavilion called Thirteen Most Wanted Men large silk screens of N.Y.P.D. mug shots (and a homoerotic pun). But the governor,

10 Nelson Rockefeller, ordered the piece removed. It turned out that many of the wanted men not only had been exonerated but, more significant politically, had Italian names. Warhol proposed substituting a portrait of Robert Moses; when this was judged unacceptable, he painted over Thirteen Most Wanted Men with silver paint a visible erasure that was widely read as a statement about censorship. And, in the context, it was. New York City had decided to clean up its act for the World s Fair. Lenny Bruce had been arrested earlier that April, at the Café au Go Go, in the Village; a month before that, a showing of Jack Smith s underground movie Flaming Creatures was raided and many people were apprehended (including, according to one account, Harvey Milk). The atmosphere for new art had been electrified. On the opening night of Warhol s show at the Stable, people were lined up on the street to get in. The exhibition consisted of some four hundred sculptures designed to look like cartons of Heinz ketchup, Del Monte peaches, Campbell s tomato juice, Mott s apple juice, Kellogg s Corn Flakes, and Brillo soap pads. The pieces were stacked in piles, requiring viewers to navigate the aisles cautiously (part of the reason for the crush outside).

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12 Warhol wasn t hiding anything, and he wasn t out to trick anyone. He was only changing one rule, the most basic rule, of the game. Campbell s Soup I (1968) / Andy Warhol Museum / 2010 Andy Warhol Foundation / ARS, NY / Trademarks, Campbell Soup Company; Sixteen Jackies (1964) / Henri Dauman / Andy Warhol Foundation / Corbis; red Liz (1964) / Andy Warhol Museum / 2010 Andy Warhol Foundation / ARS, NY; Brillo Box (1964) / Moma / SCALA / Art Resource / 2010 Andy Warhol Foundation / ARS, NY; All other art: Andy Warhol Foundation / Corbis It was the Brillo box that became the canonical work. This may be because of an unintended irony: the Brillo box was designed, in 1961, by an Abstract Expressionist painter named James Harvey, who did commercial work to support his art. In fact, Harvey went to the show. He was stunned to see his design replicated, and, later, his dealer protested. Warhol, as was his practice when plagiarism problems arose during his career (which they did frequently), offered Harvey one of the sculptures, and suggested that Harvey give him an autographed Brillo box in return. Harvey died before the deal could be transacted. It was a transformative experience for me, Danto says of the Stable show. It turned me into a philosopher of art. Six months later, he published an article in the Journal of Philosophy called The Artworld, in which he attempted to answer the question Why is something that looks exactly like a Brillo box a work of art, but a Brillo box is not? Danto s theory was that, in order to answer that question, you needed a theory. As he put it, To see something as art requires something the eye cannot decry an atmosphere of artistic theory, a knowledge of the history of art: an artworld. Someone who knew nothing about the history of art would never be able to see Warhol s Brillo box as anything but either a Brillo box or a prank. To use another example, you had to understand why, in 1960, a painting of a Coke bottle with hash marks counted as art in order to understand why a painting of a Coke bottle without hash marks might count as art. Danto saw the history of painting, from representational art through Impressionism, Cubism, and abstraction, as a series of manipulations of the relationship between art and reality. A wooden box painted to look like a grocery carton was just one more turn of that screw. Seventeen years later, Danto had a second epiphany. The occasion was the 1981 Whitney Biennial, a show dominated by the neo-expressionist painting then in vogue work by artists like Julian Schnabel. Danto s response, he later wrote, was: This is not what was supposed to happen next. But then he thought, So what was supposed to happen next? He realized that nothing had to happen next. All styles were now equally available. And he decided that, with the Brillo box, the history of art had come to an end. Art had become post-historical. Danto did not mean that art would stop being made. He meant what Hegel meant when he wrote that history had come to an end: art had realized its possibilities. Technically, there was nothing more to be achieved. Art, as Danto put it, had become philosophy. In 1984, Danto became the art critic for The Nation, where his reviewing was informed by this view; the whole theory is elegantly elaborated in his 1995 Mellon lectures, After the End of Art. To understand the significance of Danto s theory, you need another theory. That theory is Clement Greenberg s. Greenberg was the critical champion of the Abstract Expressionists, especially of Jackson Pollock, whose work he was one of the first to appreciate. In essays and reviews in Partisan Review and The Nation where he, too, served as art critic Greenberg made the case for the historical necessity of abstraction. Avant-garde artists were compelled to make nonrepresentational paintings, he argued, because of the mass production of commercially manufactured culture kitsch. Kitsch popular fiction, Hollywood movies, and so on was realistic, and its subject was the satisfactions of middle-class life under consumer capitalism. Avant-garde artists responded by making their subject art itself. Avant-garde art, Greenberg believed, was art that explored its own formal possibilities. It was art about art. By 1960, Greenberg had become an advocate of the most rarefied kind of abstraction, painting that dispensed with representational illusion as much as possible. He was promoting resolutely two-dimensional, color-defined painting, work by artists such as Morris Louis, Kenneth Noland, and Jules Olitski. He regarded Pop as a silly diversion, art not difficult enough to be taken seriously. Not only was Pop representational; it represented comic books, advertisements, product designs the world of kitsch. Pop art did not seem to be art about art. Danto s point was that it was. Danto admired Greenberg, particularly his commitment to a historical explanation for the evolution of artistic styles. In becoming the champion of Pop, Danto was not out to debunk Greenberg. On the

13 contrary: he wanted to show how the Brillo box addressed the very problem that Greenberg had set for modern art the problem of art s relation to everyday reality. Pop art was not a frivolous repudiation of Abstract Expressionism playful, figural, and superficial where Abstract Expressionism was soulful, abstract, and deep. It was the next step as it turned out, the last step in art s investigation of its own nature. Pop showed that in the end the only difference between an art work, such as a sculpture that looks like a grocery carton, and a real thing, such as a grocery carton, is that the first is received as art and the second is not. At that moment, art could be anything it wanted. The illusionreality barrier had been broken. Andy had, by nature, a philosophical mind, Danto says in the new book; he was really doing philosophy by doing the art that made him famous. This would have amused Warhol, but it does capture an important aspect of what he was up to. Marcel Duchamp loved the Campbell s soup can paintings because, he said, they freed art from the tyranny of the retinal image. You don t need to stare at the paintings to get them. It s the concept that provides the art content. Calling this content philosophy may be a little hyperbolic. There is conceptual content in a Pollock, too; there is, probably, if we could resurrect the circumstances, conceptual content in cave paintings. That doesn t quite make them philosophy. But it does mean that art is not the less art because it adds nothing visible to the original which is the lesson of the two Coke bottles. In his book, Danto acknowledges, though he does not respond to, an unpublished criticism of his interpretation of the Brillo box by the art historian Bertrand Rougé. (Rougé s article will appear in a forthcoming volume devoted to Danto s work as a philosopher.) Rougé points out that Warhol s Brillo boxes are not in fact identical to grocery cartons. The cartons are cardboard and offset printed; Warhol s pieces are wooden and silk-screened. The difference matters, Rougé argues, because putting an everyday object in an art gallery and thereby transforming it into art had already been done, and done famously, almost fifty years before, by Duchamp. Duchamp s snow shovel, urinal, bicycle wheel, and bottle rack the pieces he called ready-mades had raised the philosophical issues that Danto ascribed to Warhol s 1964 Stable show. Rougé thinks that Warhol was not simply copying Duchamp (as people have accused him of doing). He was responding to Duchamp s ready-mades by creating objects that only look like ready-mades. Rougé calls Warhol s box sculptures trompe-l oeil: they are lifelike illusions, but not illusions of something natural, like the legendary painted grapes of Zeuxis that the birds pecked at. They are illusions of a certain type of art, the ready-made, that presents itself as an art without illusions. Duchamp eliminated the element of imitation in art, and Warhol imitated him. He turned the screw one rotation farther than Danto realized. The Brillo boxes did not break the illusion-reality barrier at all. They were just one more move in the game; they didn t bring it to an end. Because Warhol s work was usually sold piecemeal to collectors, it s easy to forget that, apart from the first Stable show, which included a variety of pieces, virtually all his art exhibitions were installations. (This is something that Danto seems to miss.) Warhol did make and sell one-offs of soup cans, Brillo boxes, and other works. But 32 Campbell s Soup Cans was a single piece. So was the second Ferus show, the multiple silk screens of Elvis Presley. And so was the 1964 Stable show, with the box sculptures. By transforming an art gallery into a supermarket or a warehouse, Warhol was making a point that now seems banal, but that, at a time when the border between fine art and commercial culture was still earnestly policed, was a provocation: fine art is a commodity, too. It can even be mass-produced. The announcement for the second Stable show, written by Gene Swenson, had the bluntly ironic title The Personality of the Artist. In this respect, even 32 Campbell s Soup Cans is a formalist exercise. It is art about art. No one did more to promote the perception that he was a naïve interloper in the art world, a commercial illustrator who just didn t get what all the high seriousness was about, than Warhol himself. It is the most fundamental persona among his personae. After the New Realists exhibition at the Sidney Janis Gallery, in 1962, a show that launched Pop and seemed to signal the death of Abstract Expressionism (Janis represented many of the Abstract Expressionists, most of whom quit after the show), Warhol was asked by a reporter what he thought of Abstract Expressionism. He loved it, he said, but I never did any; I don t know why, it s so easy. It was a beautiful decoy, and he stuck with it. When de Antonio interviewed Warhol for his 1972 documentary Painters Painting, he asked him how he decided to become an artist. You used to gossip about the art people, Warhol answered, and that s how I found out about art.

14 But and this is a point on which Scherman and Dalton are especially good Warhol s life was devoted to art. Art is pretty much all he did. He collected it: in the nineteen-fifties, when he was still drawing shoe advertisements for a living, he owned works by Braque, Magritte, Miró, and Klee. He attended openings, screenings, and performances in every kind of venue, and he got to know most of the major figures in the New York art world, not only artists and dealers but poets, filmmakers, dancers, musicians, and critics. He rarely took a vacation, and his working methods were not shortcuts. It is not easy, even with assistants, to create four hundred imitation grocery cartons, or, as he did later on, two thousand Mao portraits. Warhol was fascinated by the boundary between the human and the mechanical. In his early films, he never moved the camera. He wanted to see how art would be appreciated if people believed that it came from a machine, or from a man who said that he wished he could be a machine. The subject matter of Pop art is American culture. Even the British artists and writers who coined the term pop, in the nineteen-fifties the members of the Independent Group at the Institute for Contemporary Art, in London used images from American movies and advertising in their work. But how American is Pop as an art form? People tend to think of Warhol s Coke bottles, Roy Lichtenstein s comic-strip panels, and James Rosenquist s futuristic billboards as expressing a specifically American idea of art. This chauvinism is part of the fallout from Greenberg. Greenberg advanced, as much as anyone did, the idea that, with the Abstract Expressionists, the capital of art had moved from Paris to New York. But although it is true that the major Abstract Expressionists all made their art in America, they were certainly not all Americans. Rothko was born in Russia (though he was educated here); de Kooning was Dutch; Gorky was Armenian. The painter and teacher most closely associated with the development of abstraction in New York in the nineteen-thirties and forties, Hans Hofmann, was a German émigré. Between 1933 and 1944, some seven hundred artists came to the United States from other countries; in 1940, virtually every European surrealist, including Dali, was living in New York. So were Duchamp, Mondrian, Léger, and Chagall. This is the community in which Abstract Expressionism arose. It was an approach to painting derived as much from prewar Europe as from anything done in America. The Pop artists got this. When Lichtenstein began painting from comic strips, around 1961, he said that he was looking to get away from the European brushstroke. It was a calculated remark, since the visible brushstroke was an Abstract Expressionist signature; and it reveals the extent to which, by the early nineteen-sixties, abstraction was associated with a European tradition. But the conclusion that Pop art represented liberation from Europe is also misplaced. There is no single narrative of modern art. From one perspective, modern art can be interpreted as a movement toward formal purism, the way Greenberg interpreted it. From another perspective, though, modern art is all about impurity. Applied art, anti-art, art combining high and low elements, commercial and industrial design: they form a tradition that runs right alongside Cubism and abstraction. Pop art was a continuation of this second tradition, and Warhol s art in particular was made possible by two movements that were entirely European in origin and that emerged at the same time as abstraction: Bauhaus and Dada. Carnegie Tech, where Warhol was trained, was founded to educate the children of steelworkers. Its course offerings in art prepared students for careers in fields like arts education, industrial design, and commercial art, which is what Warhol went into. Many of Warhol s classmates had careers as fine artists, but Carnegie was a place where the kind of pure/impure or fine-art/commercial-art distinctions that carried so much intellectual weight in the pages of Partisan Review and The Nation didn t mean much. One of Warhol s classmates at Carnegie Tech, Jack Wilson, recalled the exposure to mechanical methods of art-making at the school, and remembered lending Warhol a book by László Moholy-Nagy, called Vision in Motion. He said that when Warhol returned it he spoke about it with enthusiasm. Moholy-Nagy was a Hungarian who taught at the Bauhaus, in Germany, in the nineteen-twenties, and who ended up in Chicago, where, in 1937, he became the director of the New Bauhaus School of Design. He was committed to the slogan Art and Technology A New Unity, and his writings questioned the elevation of fine or handmade art over mechanical and mass-produced design. I was not at all afraid of losing the personal touch, so highly valued in previous painting, he wrote in his autobiography, Abstract of an Artist. On the contrary, I even gave up signing my paintings.... I could not find any argument against the wide distribution of works of art, even if turned out by

15 mass production. When Walter Benjamin wrote The Work of Art in the Age of Mechanical Reproduction, in 1936, he was intervening in a reconsideration of aesthetic values that had been long under way. Warhol s silk screens were offshoots of this branch of the modern-art tradition. The influence of Dada was everywhere in New York in the nineteen-fifties. Duchamp himself, though he claimed to have stopped making art, was a well-known presence. But it was the early work of Rauschenberg and Johns, and their friends John Cage and Merce Cunningham, that transformed strategies for inverting or ignoring conventional aesthetic practice, and for abandoning control of the art-making process, into a new kind of art. They were at this long before Warhol became known. Cage s silent piece for piano, 4' 33", premièred in Rauschenberg s Automobile Tire Piece, made with Cage a twenty-two-foot-long ink print of a tire track was created in 1953, the same year as his Erased de Kooning Drawing, for which he erased a drawing that de Kooning had given him. Rauschenberg took Johns to see the Duchamp collection at the Philadelphia Museum of Art; it made a deep impression on him, and he later wrote a piece for an art magazine about Duchamp s work. I m entirely sympathetic to everything that he has ever done, he later said. Johns s Painted Bronze sculptures one of two Ballantine ale cans, the other of a coffee can with paintbrushes in it were made in His sendup of Abstract Expressionist machismo, Painting with Two Balls a big, drippy abstraction with two steel balls forlornly squeezed into the canvas was also painted that year. In 1961, Allan Kaprow, the inventor of the happening, displayed Yard, a pile of automobile tires, at the Martha Jackson Gallery; Claes Oldenburg opened The Store, an East Village storefront with plaster replicas of consumer goods for sale; the French artist Arman, one of the Nouveaux Réalistes, had an exhibition of ready-mades in New York; and Arman s friend Yves Klein had a show of identical International Klein Blue monochromes at Castelli. You didn t need a Brillo box to know which way the wind blew. In fact, as Gary Indiana points out, Warhol was the last of the major Pop artists to be discovered. Lichtenstein, Rosenquist, and Jim Dine all of whom came to Pop-art styles and subjects independently of one another had shows before Warhol exhibited the soup-can paintings. There is no point in arguing about whether Pop would have happened without Warhol. Pop did happen without him. The history of art did not need Warhol to change course away from Abstract Expressionism and from formalist ideas of what art should be. Warhol s work did challenge those things, but so did the work of many other artists in the impurist avant-garde tradition. What makes Warhol important was his challenge to the impurist tradition itself. Warhol had, after all, spent more than a decade closely studying the New York avant-garde, and he understood all the ways in which it compromised its own program. As the art historian Benjamin Buchloh has argued, Warhol s silk screens of pop images like Elizabeth Taylor and Elvis were provocations directed not at the high-low art police, people like Greenberg and Hilton Kramer, but at the very artists who had apparently already solved the high-low problem. Warhol s work made art that was once considered audacious, like Johns s Target (1958) and Rauschenberg s Monogram ( ), a stuffed goat with a tire around it, seem fussy and recondite, art-world injokes. Warhol made the Marilyns immediately after Monroe s death. He produced the Lizes when Taylor was in the hospital and reportedly dying. The Jackies were silk-screened from photographs taken during J.F.K. s funeral. These were pieces that spoke directly to general states of feeling about beauty and mortality a very hard thing for a serious artist to do in 1962 and Warhol saw that people like Oldenburg, Rauschenberg, and Johns were still doing high-art things with low-art materials (and this was true of Lichtenstein and Rosenquist as well). None of those artists could have taken on a subject like Marilyn or Jackie without twisting every which way to avoid the appearance of sentimentality. They were all operating safely behind the ramparts of highbrow taste. Johns made a work called Flag on Orange Field ; Warhol made Gold Marilyn Monroe. Oldenburg made sculptures of individual consumer goods; Warhol produced multiple identical sculptures of the cartons that consumer goods come in. Rauschenberg silk-screened bits and pieces from magazines and newspapers; Warhol silk-screened money. Warhol looked at the players sitting around the table of the New York avant-garde, and he raised the ante.

16 This is true of the movies as well, which Warhol devoted most of his time to between 1965, when he announced his retirement from painting, and Formally, Sleep and Empire are programmatically the opposite of the poetic, dreamy, phantasmagorical underground movies being made in New York at the time movies like Smith s polymorphous-perverse Flaming Creatures. In Sleep, nearly six and a half hours of a man sleeping, we see dreaming exactly the way the camera sees it. The harder underground filmmakers worked to undermine cinematic convention, the more cinematic their movies became. Warhol made movies that eliminated (along with the acting and the drama) the cinematic. He found that people who could sit through them experienced them as cinema. After the shooting, everything changed. The experience naturally terrified Warhol. He had recently moved to a new studio, on Union Square, and he quickly dispensed with what remained in his entourage of the Factory-era crazies. But the culture had changed, too. Two days after Warhol was shot, Robert Kennedy was assassinated, in Los Angeles. Scherman and Dalton report that a profile of Warhol, by David Bourdon, had been scheduled for the cover of Life, but that after Kennedy s death the story was killed. Time blamed Warhol for his own shooting: Americans who deplore crime and disorder might consider the case of Andy Warhol, who for years has celebrated every form of licentiousness. Like some Nathanael West hero, the pop-art king was the blond guru of a nightmare world, photographing depravity and calling it truth. He surrounded himself with freakily named people Viva, Ultra Violet, International Velvet, Ingrid Superstar playing games of lust, perversion, drug addiction and brutality before his crotchety cameras.... As he fought for life in a hospital, pals insisted that he had not brought it on himself. The Warhol sixties were over. (Solanas got three years. Warhol was always afraid that she would strike again.) The first works that Warhol made after he recovered, in August, 1968, were a portrait of Happy Rockefeller and an advertisement for Schrafft s. Warhol had never made much money in the Factory years only a couple of boxes in the second Stable show sold, and his second show at Castelli, in 1966, of cow wallpaper and silver balloons, didn t do much better but, under the management of Fred Hughes, he began churning out celebrity portraits on commission. By the nineteen-eighties, he was making between one and two million dollars a year on the portraits. He announced that he had embarked on a new kind of art, business art. This is the Warhol from whom figures like Jeff Koons and Damien Hirst are descended. Warhol also created some astonishing silk screens in the post-factory years the Mao portraits, the sunsets that look like mushroom clouds, the skulls, the Last Suppers. But the aura of wealth and privilege that he cultivated, hanging out with Steve Rubell and the Shah of Iran, and that he celebrated in his magazine, Interview, made it hard to appreciate the art. Warhol s anti-bohemianism just seemed like what everyone else was aspiring to in the Reagan era. He was changing one of the rules of the game, a rule about how artists were supposed to live, but this time he failed to make it interesting. Still, whether or not his work continues to shape the course of art, it certainly defines the market. The art world was thrown into uncertainty by the recession, but Warhol s works didn t seem to lose liquidity or value. This November, his silk screen 200 One Dollar Bills (1962) was sold for $43.7 million, more than a hundred times what the owner paid for it in 1986 proving, among other things, that something that looks like two hundred dollars is not the same thing as two hundred dollars.

17 Louis Menand has contributed to The New Yorker since 1991, and has been a staff writer since Link to article above: The Stories behind the 7 Works with the Highest Estimates at Next Week s New York Auctions

18 Artsy Editorial By Isaac Kaplan Nov 10th, :35 pm Andy Warhol, Self-Portrait (Fright Wig), 1986 Sotheby s Contemporary Art Evening Auction Thursday, November 17 Estimate: $20,000,000 30,000,000 Andy Warhol, Self-Portrait (Fright Wig), Image courtesy of Sotheby s. Portraits and images of Warhol which can be found on everything from museum walls to tote bags are something most of us have seen before. But ubiquity isn t synonymous with comprehension. As a mode of self-expression, the self-portrait was repeatedly utilized by the notoriously insecure Warhol and Self-Portrait (Fright Wig) is not an exception so much as the opportunity to think more deeply about what it means to pose before a camera. You look at his face, you look at his eyes and his cheeks and his mouth and there s an extraordinary honesty and quite courageous nakedness about these paintings, said Macaulay of the series to which Fright Wig belongs. The piece itself is dramatic. The screen is perfection, the black and white heightens the sense of cinematic quality, the scale is engulfing, Macaulay said. You re standing in the presence of greatness, confronting this man who is so critical to generations of subsequent artists in the 20th century. Though powerfully influential, Warhol s life was cut short: Just a few months after creating this work, he died unexpectedly at 58 from complications related to gallbladder surgery. Isaac Kaplan Link to article above: Robin Rile Fine Art Robin Rile Fine Art Aug 18th, :02 am

19 Andy Warhol s Starlets One of the largest forces that drove Andy Warhol's artistic career was his relentless exploration of fame and celebrity both for himself, in the creation of a persona that would rocket him to fame in the Pop Art movement, and in the various celebrity characters he seemed to collect and document in his artworks. Of particular interest are his images of the starlets of the time, best recognized in his iconic prints of Marilyn Monroe. Warhol's depictions of women explore the relationship between consumer society, fame, fashion, sensationalism, and even death. Warhol s starlets are anything but static portraiture; they both reveal and conceal the lives of the stars they represent, especially their particular relationship to Warhol himself. Marilyn Monroe After Monroe s suicide in 1962, Warhol began producing images of the starlet using the silkscreen technique as a tribute to the icon. The result was a series of paintings that seemed to immortalize Monroe by allowing her to live eternally within his art. His use of line and color throughout the various prints shows the mechanized construction of Monroe s public persona, and the artist s decision to highlight her feminine and famed features. A slightly different reading of why Warhol chose to depict her after her death reveals a more calculating and morbid fascination with the chance to capitalize on tragedy-related sensationalism. Elizabeth Taylor Warhol first painted Elizabeth Taylor at the peak of her fame, while she was struck with an illness that most everyone thought would bring about her death. Warhol s Liz image was appropriated from a publicity photo taken for her 1960 film Butterfield 8 when the actress was 28 years old. Warhol added powerful and aggressive colors, decidedly contouring and perfecting her image another chance for Warhol to immortalize one of his icons through his art. In Warhol's prints, Taylor's face uncannily hints at the rocky journeys of divorce, recovery, excess, and frivolity that she would face later in her life without Andy. Brigitte Bardot It comes as no surprise that Warhol would be drawn to the beauty and paradoxical nature that was Brigitte Bardot, with her free spirited sexuality, famed good looks, and association with women s rights and liberation. Despite Bardot being an active supporter of Warhol and his films such as Chelsea Girls, her portrait came as a commission from then-husband Gunter Sachs, years after the original photo was taken. Warhol s paintings of Bardot are perhaps some of his most psychedelic and intrepid ventures into scale and color, with intense contrasts, bright hues, and flowing lines that almost defy the mechanized nature of the silkscreen process. Like the other starlets, Bardot is depicted at the height of her beauty, frozen forever in Warholian perfection. At the time of the commission, Bardot had already began to age giving the prints a haunting message of inevitable mortality. Glenn O Brien has praised the Bardot portraits, describing them as among the strongest and most iconic of his 1970s portraits. Jackie Kennedy Warhol was transfixed by the death of President John F. Kennedy in the winter of 1963; yet as his fixation with the assassination grew, so did his interest in Kennedy s wife Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis. In response, Warhol executed a series of over 300 portraits on the American icon while commentating and paradoxically adding to the media frenzy and exposure surrounding the widow. Jackie is depicted as a smiling wife, shocked bystander, and grieving widow; drenched in blue pigments that recall the pious Virgin Mary, and Jackie s own grace, sadness, and grief. Warhol s Jackie series more than any other reveals his fascination with death, and his expert use of simple

20 repetition to expose ubiquitous media coverage. Referred to as one of the Big Three (Jackie, Marilyn, and Liz), the portraits of Jackie are an example of Warholian consumerism at its best. The artist was once quoted as saying, I d been thrilled having Kennedy as president; he was handsome, young, smart but it didn t bother me that much that he was dead. What bothered me was the way the television and radio were programming everybody to feel so sad. Grace Kelly American actress-turned-princess Grace Kelly represents the rise from fame to royalty something that inevitably attracted Andy Warhol to depict the classic beauty in yet another immortalizing series of portraits. Although executed in typical Pop Art fashion, the portrait is given additional dimension by Warhol s delicate tracing around certain features that gives the work a haunting sense of the uncanny. The series was made two years after Kelly s tragic death, further exposing Warhol s interest in beauty that is existent, fleeting, and lost. Edie Sedgwick If Warhol ever had a favorite, it was said to be Edie Sedgwick: American heiress, actress, socialite, model, and Vogue-proclaimed Youthquaker it-girl extraordinaire. Sedgwick was a Warhol Factory staple, and appeared in various Warhol photographs and films such as Horse, Vinyl, Poor Little Rich Girl, and The Andy Warhol Story. After becoming fast friends, Warhol declared Edie his Superstar, and they mutually began the rise to increased fame, notoriety, and controversy. After becoming estranged from the Warhol inner circle, Sedgwick continued the fast life of celebrity and died from a barbiturate overdose in 1971, leading many to blame her time at the Factory for her demise. Greta Garbo Greta Garbo was a celebrity Warhol actually got the chance to meet and observe while living in New York City. He depicted her in a silkscreen series called Myths, in which Garbo's portrait is aptly titled The Star and depicts her in character from one of her famous cinematic roles. Warhol even used diamond dust on some of the prints to further the luxury, decadence, and beauty he aspired to portray. The Myths series is an exploration of mythic and iconic American stars, and each star is said to represent an aspect of Warhol s own personality indicative of his ego, as well as his attempt to further embed himself within the celebrity canon. Grace Jones Grace Jones was an influential and ever-changing woman in her time, with careers as a model, actress, and singer. Warhol was enamored with Jones s penchant for change, fashion, unconventional ways, and strong androgynous beauty. He reportedly waited three hours to photograph her for Vogue, and continued to paint and photograph Jones on multiple occasions. His works of Jones are all based off of photographs he had taken himself, giving the viewer a sense of the personal bond both artists shared. As a woman constantly adapting to maintain her fame, Warhol recognized and appreciated her genius, beauty, and shared interest in celebrity. Liza Minnelli Another subject of both Warhol s screenprints and photographs was legend of the stage, Liza Minnelli. Warhol knew Minnelli personally, and even interviewed her for his magazine Interview. While his silkscreens emphasize the starlet s stark and recognizable features, so do his Polaroids where the singer poses unabashedly in her signature look with bright red lips, choppy black hair, and huge staring eyes encased in layers of black mascara. As Warhol

21 captured the sensitivity of Diana Ross, he captured the humor, theatricality, and essence of Liza Minnelli revealing the artist s versatility, and closer relationships to his icons later in life. Dolly Parton Dolly Parton s character is perhaps one of the only others that can rival the character Andy Warhol created for himself. Warhol reveals the essence of Dolly in a series of photographs and silkscreen portraits, in which the singer is exposed in either a dreamy and soft Polaroid, or a bright cotton-candy pop color scheme that highlights her big hair, big jewelry, and big personality that was adored at the time. Warhol s method of mass production only served to complement Dolly s mass appeal in both talent and beauty. The result is an American kitsch success that only serves to expose and promote Dolly s public persona. Diana Ross Warhol was commissioned by actress and former Supremes vocalist Diana Ross to execute a series of paintings for herself and her daughters. Warhol photographed the singer in a series of Polaroids that reveal the soft, raw, and vulnerable beauty of Ross as well as the skill of Warhol as a photographer capturing her in an intimate moment that reflects his admiration and respect for the singer herself. The editor of Warhol s magazine Interview Bob Colacello recounts, Diana Ross stunned us by paying her $95,000 bill for the four portraits on the spot." So pleased with the outcome, Ross later hired Warhol to create the album cover for her record Silk Electric that features Ross in a traditional pop art fashion, but bears a striking resemblance to her Polaroids. Which is your favorite of the warhol starlets? Who would warhol portray in today's celebrity-obsessed culture? Can these images be seen as eternal, immortalizing memorials of respect for Warhol s favorite stars, or rather reductive depictions of women that highlight only their beauty, perfection, and personal tragedies for Warhol s own profit? While Warhol's starlets may seem like simple portraiture, there's much more than meets the eye from their continuing value to the way they document the intricate relationships between celebrity, commerciality, tragedy, and beauty. Link to article above: Additional articles:

22 THE FACTORY Article: The Factory: Andy Warhol's Studio and Hip Hangout Andy Warhol, the boss of the Factory. Photo via Dear Dear Chicago on Wordpress Ever wondered where Andy Warhol conceptualized and made his iconic Pop art masterpieces? Allow us to take you back in time and into The Factory, Warhol s New York City studio and hip haven where all the action happened and his so-called Superstars inspired him. Between 1962 and 1984, Andy Warhol had three different locations for his studio: the fifth floor at 231 East 47th Street in Midtown Manhattan, the sixth floor of the Decker Building at 33 Union Square West, and 22 East 33rd Street. It was where his workers would make lithographs and assemble silkscreens, making its moniker as The Factory very apt.

23 However, these weren t the only things Warhol s studio was used for. While silkscreening was being done in one area, screen testing and filming would be done in another. These screen tests, a series of silent film portraits, featured Factory regulars, celebrities, friends, guests, or anyone else Warhol thought had star potential. The original Factory was called by its frequent visitors as the Silver Factory for its tin foil wrappings, silver paint, and also the silver balloons Warhol brought in and left floating around the ceiling. It was decorated by Warhol s friend, Billy Name, whose apartment was decorated the same way. The Pop artist liked how it was done and asked his friend to do the same for his studio. The Factory was more than just the place where Warhol worked; it was also his breeding ground of ideas, where he surrounded himself with a menagerie of people who served as his inspirations, collaborators, and movie stars: fellow artists, musicians, actresses, socialites, drug addicts, drag queens, free thinkers, and many others. All of them later came to be known as Warhol s Superstars. Warhol would also often hold parties in The Factory, much to the dismay of his landlord. Even so, these parties gained his studio its reputation as a hip hangout, one of the places to be in the 1960s. If you were invited in one of these Factory parties, you were probably close to the famed artist or someone with star quality. Article: JANUARY 28, 1964: ANDY WARHOL STARTS THE FACTORY

24 Andy Warhol's Factory Gerard Malanga: "Andy and I spent about 6 weeks looking at spaces. Finally he settled on this one space located between 2nd and 3rd Avenues on 47th Street. It was formally a hat manufacturing company, but had closed shop. Andy was attracted to the space because it didn't appear to be your typical artist's studio, with wood floors and big windows looking out on a grand urban vista. It didn't have that artsy aura. It had, more or less, an anonymous feel to it. you walked into it and you weren't quite sure what it was or what had gone on there previous. Andy kind of liked that." (GM185) Thomas Kiedrowski: "Completed in 1887, the five-story building that housed Andy Warhol's Silver Factory was originally the Peoples Cold Storage and Warehouse. The structure stood on the site of the former F.A. Neumann Brewery, which sold lager beer in the mid to late 1980s. Over the years, it housed many businesses including an electrical work-station, a cigar manufacturer, and a few woodworking operations. The fourth-floor Factory space had likely housed an upholsterer's shop that outfitted newly-made furniture (Decorators Upholstery), not, as is commonly thought, a manufacturer of hats." (TKA70) Victor Bockris: "At the end of November 1963 a truck containing Warhol's painting equipment from the firehouse and 1342 Lexington Avenue pulled up outside a warehouse and factory building on East 47th Street... The new space was on the fifth floor of 231 East 47th and could be reached by a large open freight elevator, which sometimes broke down, or a flight of stairs." (LD188) Sterling McIlhenny and Peter Ray: "... the Factory, as Warhol calls his studio... is located on the fourth floor of a rickety loft building in Manhattan's east forties." (KG97) Andy Warhol (via Pat Hackett in Popism): The Factory was about 50 feet by 100, and it had windows all along 47th Street looking south. It was basically crumbling - the walls especially were in bad shape. I set up my painting area with the workbench near the front by the windows, but I kept most of the light blocked out - that s the way I like it. (POP61)

25 The space at the back of the Factory gradually became Billy Name s space. (POP61) Billy had done lighting at some Judson Church productions and had been a waiter at Serendipity. Andy Warhol (via Pat Hackett in Popism): Billy Name gave the impression of being generally creative - he dabbled in lights and papers and artists materials. In the beginning he just fussed around like the other A-heads, doing all the busy stuff, fooling with mirrors and feathers and beads, taking hours to paint some little thing like the door to a cabinet... and sometimes he was so high he wouldn t even realize that he d just painted it. (POP63) Billy furnished the Factory with trash he found on the street, including, as noted in Popism, the huge curved couch that would be photographed so much in the next few years - the hairy red one that we used in so many of our movies - Billy found right out in front of the Y. (POP63-64) He was also responsible for covering the crumbling walls and pipes in silver foil, spraying everything with silver paint, right down to the toilet bowl.

26 Studio 54 Article: 10 Crazy Things That Happened at Studio 54 April 26, :00am Stacy Conradt image credit: Getty Images Like us on Facebook The original Studio 54 nightclub, which opened on this date in 1977, was open for less than three years before owners Steve Rubell and Ian Schrager were prosecuted for tax evasion. But 33 months was more than enough time for a dazzling array of hedonistic shenanigans. The club opened again under new management in 1981, and while the new owners also had wild events that attracted a plethora of A-list celebrities, the vibe just wasn t the same. Here are a few of the insane things (at least, the ones that are fit to print) we missed out on: 1. Four tons of glitter on the floor. To celebrate New Year s Eve in the late 1970s, event planner Robert Isabell trucked in four tons of glitter for guests to dance on. You felt like you were standing on stardust, Ian Schrager later said. People got the glitter in their hair, in their socks. You would see it in people s homes six months later, and you knew they d been at Studio 54 on New Year s. 2. The night they sold nothing but fruit juice and soda.

27 During the first year the club was open, Schrager and Rubell got by with no liquor license. Instead, they purchased daily permits intended for caterers, not nightclubs. The head of the State Liquor Authority got wind of the scam and conducted a sting; afterward, the club was closed for the night. Undaunted, Studio 54 opened the next night anyway. Patrons received this notice at the door: Welcome! And thank you for joining us this evening. Due to an unfortunate misunderstanding, we are unable to serve alcoholic beverages tonight. However, we have a variety of soft drinks and juices, and you are welcome to drink as much as [you] like at no charge. Studio 54 will remain open; we thank you for helping make it the success that it is. 3. Bianca Jagger riding around on a white horse. Mick Jagger s then-wife helped open Studio 54 when designer Halston held a birthday party for her there. It s often reported that Jagger rode in astride a magnificent white horse, but last year, she issued a statement that corrected that notion: She didn t ride in on the white horse. It was already at the party, and she rode it once she got inside, led around by a tall naked dude covered in gold glitter. Jagger hoped that her letter would finally put this Studio 54 fable out to pasture. Central Press/Getty Images 4. Andy Warhol s birthday party. On August 6, 1979, Halston hosted another birthday bash at Studio 54 this one for Andy Warhol. He gifted Warhol with a pair of roller skates, while Rubell simply gave him a garbage pail stuffed with cash. When Rubell was jailed for tax evasion, Warhol gave Rubell his own money-themed gift: a brass sculpture with dollar signs cut out. 5. When fashion fell from the sky.

28 The nightclub was known for dropping things from a net on the ceiling often balloons, sometimes glitter. But on at least one occasion, the net contained gift boxes that held pricey goodies from various fashion houses. 6. The nights Disco Sally appeared. Mingling amongst the likes of Warhol, Halston, and Jagger was a 77-year old widow named Sally Lippman. Disco Sally became a regular after one of her young friends told her that she should check out Studio 54 just once, to see it. She and her friend managed to get in, and Rubell was delighted to see her on the dance floor, telling her, I like to see you here. Come anytime you like, and you ll get in. You didn t have to tell Sally twice after that, she became a fixture there most nights. I didn t dance for 50 years because my husband didn t like it, she said. Here she is in action, terrifying Lawrence Welk. 7. All of the Halloween parties. Former model Kevin Haley once recalled the elaborate (and politically incorrect) setup that was just the entrance to the party: As you came up the ramp in the foyer, you looked through little windows into little booths with midgets doing things. The one that sticks out in my head had a midget family eating a formal dinner. It was like a nonstop party. 8. Valentino s Birthday party. Giancarlo Giammetti decided to throw a circus birthday party for his partner, fashion designer Valentino, three days before his birthday. "We had a circus ring with sand, and mermaids on trapezes," Giammetti said. "Fellini gave us costumes from his film, The Clowns. Valentino was the ringmaster, and Marina Schiano came as a palm reader with a parrot on her shoulder. Another infamous night at 54 was the evening Dolly Parton held an after-concert party there, complete with bales of hay and live farm animals. 9. When the game Simon premiered at the club. In 1978, Milton Bradley had a launch party for their new game, Simon. They must have realized that the trippy sequences of flashing lights would appeal to the disco set, because they had a four-foot model designed and hung it over the dance floor.

29 Central Press/Hulton Archive/Getty Images 10. The raid that eventually closed the club. After Steve Rubell made a public statement that only the Mafia does better than Studio 54 when it came to money, the IRS took notice the club had paid just $8000 in taxes in At a raid on December 14, 1978, feds found a reported $600,000 in garbage bags hidden in the building, in addition to 300 Quaalude pills and at least a few ounces of cocaine (reports varied on the actual amount). A few hours after the raid, people came to the club in droves, either to get the gossip or to support the owners. Before Rubell and Schrager were shipped off to prison to serve 13-month sentences, they were serenaded by Diana Ross and Liza Minnelli in front of a crowd that included Jack Nicholson, Sylvester Stallone, Gia Carangi, and Richard Gere, among others.

30 Article: 10/#fashion-designers-like-diane-von-furstenberg-quickly-became-regulars-i-had-more-fun-atstudio-54-than-in-any-other-nightclub-in-the-world-furstenberg-once-said-in-an-interview-withvanity-fair-6 22 photos that show the grit and the glamour of Studio 54, New York City's most infamous club Talia Avakian Oct. 17, 2015, 2:30 PM On April 16, 1977, crowds of hip revelers cheered as nightclub Studio 54 first opened its doors at a building on 54th Street in New York City. It would only be open in its original form for 33 months, but it soon became known as one of the hottest and most exclusive clubs in town, making a whopping $7 million in its first year alone. The space would later be adapted into a theater, but Studio 54's party scene in the '70s and early '80s will forever be remembered for its wild nights, high-profile guests, and massive crowds. Designer Roy Halston Frowick (or just Halston), Andy Warhol, and Liza Minelli were always seen together at Studio 54. Rock legends like Chuck Berry and Keith Richards were often spotted together at Studio 54. Elton John pulled up the legs of his pants to join in the dancing. The singer is seen here attending a party thrown at Studio 54 in his honor in But the dancing was just as important as the social scene. Pictured here is Margaret Trudeau, the estranged wife of former Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau, dancing the night away in Fashion designers like Diane Von Furstenberg quickly became regulars. "I had more fun at Studio 54 than in any other nightclub in the world," Furstenberg once said in an interview with Vanity Fair. Singer Bette Midler is pictured greeting members of The Temptations during a party thrown to announce the soul group s new recording contract with Atlantic Records in 1977.

31 Elton John pulls his pants legs up to dance the night away.ap/richard Drew Studio 54 officially opened its doors on April 16, 1977, in a building that previously housed a theater. The club quickly became popular, with regular crowds lingering outside in the hopes of getting in.

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35 Bob Dylan Artist s Website: Biography: ww.imdb.com/name/nm /bio Robert Allen Zimmerman was born 24 May 1941 in Duluth, Minnesota; his father Abe worked for the Standard Oil Co. Six years later the family moved to Hibbing, often the coldest place in the US, where he taught himself piano and guitar and formed several high school rock bands. In 1959 he entered the University of Minnesota and began performing as Bob Dylan at clubs in Minneapolis and St. Paul. The following year he went to New York, performed in Greenwich Village folk clubs, and spent much time in the hospital room of his hero Woody Guthrie. Late in 1961 Columbia signed him to a contract and the following year released his first album, containing two original songs. Next year "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" appeared, with all original songs including the 1960s anthem "Blowin' in the Wind." After several more important acoustic/folk albums, and tours with Joan Baez, he launched into a new electric/acoustic format with 1965's "Bringing It All Back Home" which, with The Byrds' cover of his "Mr Tambourine Man," launched folk-rock. The documentary Bob Dylan: Dont Look Back (1967) was filmed at this time; he broke off his relationship with Baez and by the end of the year had married Sara Dylan (born Sara Lowndes). Nearly killed in a motorcycle accident 29 July 1966, he withdrew for a time of introspection. After more hard rock performances, his next albums were mostly country. With his career wandering (and critics condemning the fact), Sam Peckinpah asked him to compose the score for, and appear in, his Pat Garrett & Billy the Kid (1973) - more memorable as a soundtrack than a film. In 1974 he and The Band went on tour, releasing his first #1 album, "Planet Waves". It was followed a year later by another first-place album, "Blood on the Tracks". After several

36 Rolling Thunder tours, the unsuccessful film Renaldo and Clara (1978) and a divorce, he stunned the music world again by his release of the fundamentalist Christrian album "Slow Train Coming," a cut from which won him his first Grammy. Many tours and albums later, on the eve of a European tour May 1997, he was stricken with histoplasmosis (a possibly fatal infection of the heart sac); he recovered and appeared in Bologna that September at the request of the Pope. In December he received the Kennedy Center Award for artistic excellence. - IMDb Mini Biography By: Ed Stephan <stephan@cc.wwu.edu> Artist Biography by Stephen Thomas Erlewine Bob Dylan's influence on popular music is incalculable. As a songwriter, he pioneered several different schools of pop songwriting, from confessional singer/songwriter to winding, hallucinatory, stream-of-consciousness narratives. As a vocalist, he broke down the notion that a singer must have a conventionally good voice in order to perform, thereby redefining the vocalist's role in popular music. As a musician, he sparked several genres of pop music, including electrified folk-rock and country-rock. And that just touches on the tip of his achievements. Dylan's force was evident during his height of popularity in the '60s -- the Beatles' shift toward introspective songwriting in the mid-'60s never would have happened without him -- but his influence echoed throughout several subsequent generations, as many of his songs became popular standards and his best albums became undisputed classics of the rock & roll canon. Dylan's influence throughout folk music was equally powerful, and he marks a pivotal turning point in its 20th century evolution, signifying when the genre moved away from traditional songs and toward personal songwriting. Even when his sales declined in the '80s and '90s, Dylan's presence rarely lagged, and his commercial revival in the 2000s proved his staying power. For a figure of such substantial influence, Dylan came from humble beginnings. Born in Duluth, Minnesota, Bob Dylan (b. Robert Allen Zimmerman, May 24, 1941) was raised in Hibbing, Minnesota, from the age of six. As a child he learned how to play guitar and harmonica, forming a rock & roll band called the Golden Chords when he was in high school. Following his graduation in 1959, he began studying art at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis. While at college, he began performing folk songs at coffee houses under the name Bob Dylan, taking his last name from the poet Dylan Thomas. Already inspired by Hank Williams and Woody Guthrie, Dylan began listening to blues while at college, and the genre wove its way into his music. He spent the summer of 1960 in Denver, where he met bluesman Jesse Fuller, the inspiration behind the songwriter's signature harmonica rack and guitar. By the time he returned to Minneapolis in the fall, he had grown substantially as a performer and was determined to become a professional musician. Dylan made his way to New York City in January of 1961, immediately making a substantial impression on the folk community of Greenwich Village. He began visiting his idol Guthrie in the hospital, where he was slowly dying from Huntington's chorea. Dylan also began performing in coffee houses, and his rough charisma won him a significant following. In April, he opened for John Lee Hooker at Gerde's Folk City. Five months later, Dylan performed another concert at the venue, which was reviewed positively by Robert Shelton in The New York Times. Columbia A&R man John Hammond sought out Dylan on the strength of the review, and signed the songwriter in the fall of Hammond produced Dylan's eponymous debut album (released in March 1962), a collection of folk and blues standards that boasted only two original songs. Over the course of 1962, Dylan began to write a large batch of original songs, many of which were political protest songs in the vein of his Greenwich Village contemporaries. These songs were showcased on his second album, The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan. Before its release, Freewheelin' went through several incarnations. Dylan had recorded a rock & roll single, "Mixed Up Confusion," at the end of 1962, but his manager, Albert Grossman, made sure the record was deleted because he wanted to present Dylan as an acoustic folkie. Similarly, several tracks with a

37 full backing band that were recorded for Freewheelin' were scrapped before the album's release. Furthermore, several tracks recorded for the album -- including "Talking John Birch Society Blues" -- were eliminated from the album before its release. Entirely comprising original songs, The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan made a huge impact in the U.S. folk community, and many performers began covering songs from the album. Of these, the most significant were Peter, Paul and Mary, who made "Blowin' in the Wind" into a huge pop hit in the summer of 1963 and thereby made Bob Dylan into a recognizable household name. On the strength of Peter, Paul and Mary's cover and his opening gigs for popular folkie Joan Baez, Freewheelin' became a hit in the fall of 1963, climbing to number 23 on the charts. By that point, Baez and Dylan had become romantically involved, and she was beginning to record his songs frequently. Dylan was writing just as fast. By the time The Times They Are A-Changin' was released in early 1964, Dylan's songwriting had developed far beyond that of his New York peers. Heavily inspired by poets like Arthur Rimbaud and John Keats, his writing took on a more literate and evocative quality. Around the same time, he began to expand his musical boundaries, adding more blues and R&B influences to his songs. Released in the summer of 1964, Another Side of Bob Dylan made these changes evident. However, Dylan was moving faster than his records could indicate. By the end of 1964, he had ended his romantic relationship with Baez and had begun dating a former model named Sara Lowndes, whom he subsequently married. Simultaneously, he gave the Byrds "Mr. Tambourine Man" to record for their debut album. The Byrds gave the song a ringing, electric arrangement, but by the time the single became a hit, Dylan was already exploring his own brand of folk-rock. Inspired by the British Invasion, particularly the Animals' version of "House of the Rising Sun," Dylan recorded a set of original songs backed by a loud rock & roll band for his next album. While Bringing It All Back Home (March 1965) still had a side of acoustic material, it made clear that Dylan had turned his back on folk music. For the folk audience, the true breaking point arrived a few months after the album's release, when he played the Newport Folk Festival supported by the Paul Butterfield Blues Band. The audience greeted him with vicious derision, but he had already been accepted by the growing rock & roll community. Dylan's spring tour of Britain was the basis for D.A. Pennebaker's documentary Don't Look Back, a film that captures the songwriter's edgy charisma and charm. Dylan made his breakthrough to the pop audience in the summer of 1965, when "Like a Rolling Stone" became a number two hit. Driven by a circular organ riff and a steady beat, the six-minute single broke the barrier of the three-minute pop single. Dylan became the subject of innumerable articles, and his lyrics became the subject of literary analyses across the U.S. and U.K. Well over 100 artists covered his songs between 1964 and 1966; the Byrds and the Turtles, in particular, had big hits with his compositions. Highway 61 Revisited, his first full-fledged rock & roll album, became a Top Ten hit shortly after its summer 1965 release. "Positively 4th Street" and "Rainy Day Women #12 & 35" became Top Ten hits in the fall of 1965 and spring of 1966, respectively. Following the May 1966 release of the double album Blonde on Blonde, he had sold over ten million records around the world. During the fall of 1965, Dylan hired the Hawks, formerly Ronnie Hawkins' backing group, as his touring band. The Hawks, who changed their name to the Band in 1968, would become Dylan's most famous backing band, primarily because of their intuitive chemistry and "wild, thin mercury sound," but also because of their British tour in the

38 spring of The tour was the first time the British had heard the electric Dylan, and their reaction was disagreeable and violent. At the Manchester concert (long mistakenly identified as the show from London's Royal Albert Hall), an audience member called Dylan "Judas," inspiring a positively vicious version of "Like a Rolling Stone" from Dylan and the band. The performance was immortalized on countless bootleg albums (an official release finally surfaced in 1998), and it indicates the intensity of Dylan in the middle of He had assumed control of Pennebaker's second Dylan documentary, Eat the Document, and was under deadline to complete his book Tarantula, as well as record a new record. Following the British tour, he returned to America. On July 29, 1966, he was injured in a motorcycle accident outside of his home in Woodstock, New York, suffering injuries to his neck vertebrae and a concussion. Details of the accident remain elusive -- he was reportedly in critical condition for a week and had amnesia -- and some biographers have questioned its severity, but the event was a pivotal turning point in his career. After the accident, Dylan became a recluse, disappearing into his home in Woodstock and raising his family with his wife, Sara. After a few months, he retreated with the Band to a rented house, subsequently dubbed Big Pink, in West Saugerties to record a number of demos. For several months, Dylan and the Band recorded an enormous amount of material, ranging from old folk, country, and blues songs to newly written originals. The songs indicated that Dylan's songwriting had undergone a metamorphosis, becoming streamlined and more direct. Similarly, his music had changed, owing less to traditional rock & roll, and demonstrating heavy country, blues, and traditional folk influences. None of the Big Pink recordings was intended to be released, but tapes from the sessions were circulated by Dylan's music publisher with the intent of generating cover versions. Copies of these tapes, as well as other songs, were available on illegal bootleg albums by the end of the '60s; it was the first time that bootleg copies of unreleased recordings became widely circulated. Portions of the tapes were officially released in 1975 as the double album The Basement Tapes. While Dylan was in seclusion, rock & roll had become heavier and artier in the wake of the psychedelic revolution. When Dylan returned with John Wesley Harding in December of 1967, its quiet, country ambience was a surprise to the general public, but it was a significant hit, peaking at number two in the U.S. and number one in the U.K. Furthermore, the record arguably became the first significant country-rock record to be released, setting the stage for efforts by the Byrds and the Flying Burrito Brothers later in Dylan followed his country inclinations on his next album, 1969's Nashville Skyline, which was recorded in Nashville with several of the country industry's top session men. While the album was a hit, spawning the Top Ten single "Lay Lady Lay," it was criticized in some quarters for uneven material. The mixed reception was the beginning of a full-blown backlash that arrived with the double album Self Portrait. Released early in June of 1970, the album was a hodgepodge of covers, live tracks, reinterpretations, and new songs greeted with negative reviews from all quarters of the press. Dylan followed the album quickly with New Morning, which was hailed as a comeback. Following the release of New Morning, Dylan began to wander restlessly. He moved back to Greenwich Village, he finally published Tarantula in November of 1970, and he performed at the Concert for Bangladesh in August During 1972, he began his acting career by playing Alias in Sam Peckinpah's Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, which was released in He also wrote the soundtrack for the film, which featured "Knockin' on Heaven's Door," his biggest hit since "Lay Lady Lay." The Pat Garrett soundtrack was the final record released under his

39 Columbia contract before he moved to David Geffen's fledgling Asylum Records. As retaliation, Columbia assembled Dylan, a collection of Self Portrait outtakes, for release at the end of Dylan only recorded two albums -- including 1974's Planet Waves, coincidentally his first number one album -- before he moved back to Columbia. The Band supported Dylan on Planet Waves and its accompanying tour, which became the most successful tour in rock & roll history; it was captured on 1974's double live album Before the Flood. Dylan's 1974 tour was the beginning of a comeback culminating with 1975's Blood on the Tracks. Largely inspired by the disintegration of his marriage, Blood on the Tracks was hailed as a return to form by critics and it became his second number one album. After jamming with folkies in Greenwich Village, Dylan decided to launch a gigantic tour, loosely based on traveling medicine shows. Lining up an extensive list of supporting musicians -- including Joan Baez, Joni Mitchell, Ramblin' Jack Elliott, Arlo Guthrie, Mick Ronson, Roger McGuinn, and poet Allen Ginsberg -- Dylan dubbed the tour the Rolling Thunder Revue and set out on the road in the fall of For the next year, the Rolling Thunder Revue toured on and off, with Dylan filming many of the concerts for a future film. During the tour, Desire was released to considerable acclaim and success, spending five weeks on the top of the charts. Throughout the Rolling Thunder Revue, Dylan showcased "Hurricane," a protest song he had written about boxer Rubin Carter, who had been unjustly imprisoned for murder. The live album Hard Rain was released at the end of the tour. Dylan released Renaldo and Clara, a four-hour film based on the Rolling Thunder tour, to poor reviews in early Early in 1978, Dylan set out on another extensive tour, this time backed by a band that resembled a Las Vegas lounge act. The group was featured on the 1978 album Street Legal and the 1979 live album At Budokan. At the conclusion of the tour in late 1978, Dylan announced that he was a born-again Christian, and he launched a series of Christian albums that following summer with Slow Train Coming. Though the reviews were mixed, the album was a success, peaking at number three and going platinum. His supporting tour for Slow Train Coming featured only his new religious material, much to the bafflement of his long-term fans. Two other religious albums -- Saved (1980) and Shot of Love (1981) -- followed, both to poor reviews. In 1982, Dylan traveled to Israel, sparking rumors that his conversion to Christianity was short-lived. He returned to secular recording with 1983's Infidels, which was greeted with favorable reviews. Dylan returned to performing in 1984, releasing the live album Real Live at the end of the year. Empire Burlesque followed in 1985, but its odd mix of dance tracks and rock & roll won few fans. However, the five-album/triple-disc retrospective box set Biograph appeared that same year to great acclaim. In 1986, Dylan hit the road with Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers for a successful and acclaimed tour, but his album that year, Knocked Out Loaded, was received poorly. The following year, he toured with the Grateful Dead as his backing band; two years later, the souvenir album Dylan & the Dead appeared. In 1988, Dylan embarked on what became known as "the Never-Ending Tour" -- a constant stream of shows that ran on and off into the late '90s. That same year, he appeared on The Traveling Wilburys, Vol by the supergroup also featuring George Harrison, Roy Orbison, Tom Petty, and Jeff Lynne -- and released his own Down in the Groove, an album largely comprising covers. The Never-Ending Tour received far stronger reviews than Down in the

40 Groove (the Traveling Wilburys album fared much better), but 1989's Oh Mercy was his most acclaimed album since 1975's Blood on the Tracks, due in part to Daniel Lanois' strong production. However, Dylan's 1990 follow-up, Under the Red Sky (issued the same year as the second album by the Traveling Wilburys, now a quartet following the death of Roy Orbison shortly after the release of the Wilburys' first long-player in 1988), was received poorly, especially when compared to the enthusiastic reception for the 1991 box set The Bootleg Series, Vols. 1-3 (Rare & Unreleased), a collection of previously unreleased outtakes and rarities. For the remainder of the '90s, Dylan divided his time between live concerts, painting, and studio projects. He returned to recording in 1992 with Good as I Been to You, an acoustic collection of traditional folk songs. It was followed in 1993 by another folk record, World Gone Wrong, which won the Grammy for Best Traditional Folk Album. After the release of World Gone Wrong, he released a greatest-hits album and a live record. Dylan released Time Out of Mind, his first album of original material in seven years, in the fall of Time Out of Mind received his strongest reviews in years and unexpectedly debuted in the Top Ten, eventually climbing to platinum certification. Such success sparked a revival of interest in Dylan, who appeared on the cover of Newsweek and began selling out concerts once again. Early in 1998, Time Out of Mind received three Grammy Awards -- Album of the Year, Best Contemporary Folk Album, and Best Male Rock Vocal. Another album of original material, Love and Theft, followed in 2001 and went gold. Soon after its release, Dylan announced that he was making his own film, to star Jeff Bridges, Penelope Cruz, John Goodman, Val Kilmer, and many more. The accompanying soundtrack, Masked and Anonymous, was released in July Dylan opted to self-produce his new studio album, Modern Times, which topped the Billboard charts and went platinum in both America and the U.K. It was Dylan's third consecutive album to receive praise from critics and support from consumers, and it was followed three years later in 2009 by Together Through Life, another selfproduced effort (as Jack Frost) that also featured contributions from David Hidalgo of Los Lobos and Mike Campbell of Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers. He capped off the year with an oldfashioned holiday effort, Christmas in the Heart. Proceeds from the album were donated to various charities around the world. Dylan released the self-produced (again as Jack Frost) Tempest on September 11, 2012; it debuted at three on both the Billboard 200 and the U.K. charts. The next two years brought acclaimed entries in the ongoing Bootleg Series saw the release of Another Self Portrait ( ), which restored the reputation of a much-maligned era, and 2014 saw the longawaited appearance of The Basement Tapes Complete -- and then Dylan threw a curve ball for his next studio album. Released in February 2015, Shadows in the Night found the singer/songwriter devoting himself to selections from the Great American Songbook in the prerock & roll era. Every one of the ten songs had previously been recorded by Frank Sinatra, and Dylan's album was his version of Sinatra's saloon songs, arranged by his own touring band. Shadows in the Night debuted at seven in the U.S. and at number one in the U.K. It was followed in the autumn by the next installment in The Bootleg Series, The Cutting Edge Available in three editions -- a double-disc distillation, a comprehensive six-disc box, and a complete, limited-edition 18-CD set -- The Cutting Edge collected unreleased (and

41 unbootlegged) outtakes from the recording of Bringing It All Back Home, Highway 61 Revisited, and Blonde on Blonde. In May of 2016, Dylan returned with Fallen Angels, his second Sinatra-inspired collection of songs from the Great American Songbook; it debuted at seven on the Billboard charts. Later that year, Columbia/Legacy released The 1966 Live Recordings, a 36-disc box set containing every known recording from that pivotal year, but its release was overshadowed by Dylan winning the Nobel Prize for Literature in the autumn of Dylan continued his exploration of the Great American Songbook with the March 2017 release of Triplicate, a triple album containing three thematically arranged collections of pop standards. Artist Statement: I've never written a political song. Songs can't save the world. I've gone through all that. Bob Dylan You don't necessarily have to write to be a poet. Some people work in gas stations and they're poets. I don't call myself a poet because I don't like the word. I'm a trapeze artist. Resume/Vita: (????) Music video: Appeared in Wyclef video "Gone 'til November" (2002) Book: "Lyrics: ". New York: Simon & Schuster, ISBN (1971) Book: "Tarantula" (written 1965). (2004) Various TV commercials for Victoria's Secret. (2002) Album: "Love and Theft" (1964) Album: "The Times They Are A-Changin'" (Columbia) (1985) A member of the "Artists United Against Apartheid" charity project. (2003) CD: "Bob Dylan Limited Edition Hybrid SACD Set" (2005) CD: "The Best of Bob Dylan" (CBS) CD: "The Collection: Blonde on Blonde/Blood on the Tracks/Infidels" (CBS) (3-disc set)

42 CD: "The Collection: Nashville Skyline/New Morning/John Wesley Hardin" (CBS) (3-disc set) CD: "The Collection: Oh Mercy/Time Out of Mind/Love and Theft" (CBS) (3-disc set) CD: "The Collection: The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan/The Times They Are A-Changin'/Another Side of Bob Dylan" (CBS) (3-disc set) CD: "No Direction Home: The Soundtrack, The Bootleg Series Vol. 7" (CBS) (2-disc set) (1966) Album: "Blonde on Blonde" (Columbia) (2006) CD: "Modern Times" (Columbia) (1997) CD: "Time Out of Mind" 'On the Run,' an Excerpt from "Chronicles: Volume One," Published in Newsweek (USA), October 4, 2004, Vol. CXLIV, Issue #14, Pages (10/28/07-3/2/08) Exhibition: The Drawn Blank Series. Chemnitz, Saxony, Germany (2001) Album: "Love and Theft" (1997) Album: "Time Out of Mind" (1975) Album: "Blood on the Tracks" (Columbia) (1978) Album: "Street Legal" (Columbia) (1970) Album: "Self-Portrait" (Columbia) (1969) Album: "Nashville Skyline" (Columbia) (1967) Album: "John Wesley Hardin" (Columbia) (1965) Album: "Bringing It All Back Home" (Columbia) (1964) Album: "Another Side of Bob Dylan" (Columbia) (1963) Album: "The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan" (Columbia) (1965) Album: "Highway 61 Revisited" (Columbia) (2009) Book: "Bob Dylan Revisted: 13 Graphic Interpretations of Bob Dylan's Songs," New York City, W.W. Norton and Company, ISBN , 98 pages. Album: "Slow Train Comin' "

43 (2011) Album: "Together Through Life". (2015) TV commercial for the IBM Watson computer. Reviews/Articles: Bob Dylan Sends Warm Words but Skips Nobel Prize Ceremonies By JOE COSCARELLIDEC. 10, 2016 Patti Smith performed Bob Dylan s A Hard Rain s a-gonna Fall on Saturday at the Nobel Prize ceremony in Stockholm. Credit Jonas Ekstromer/TT News Agency, via Associated Press For Bob Dylan, the nagging question of whether his songs qualify as literature was settled for good on Saturday at the Nobel Prize ceremony in Stockholm and his presence was not required to make the case. As the always-slippery folk singer forewarned, he was not there to receive the 2016 prize in literature, but he sent a warm, humble statement accepting the honor, which was read by Azita Raji, the American ambassador to Sweden, at an evening banquet in Stockholm. Invoking William Shakespeare, whom Mr. Dylan imagined to have been too consumed with practical matters How should this be staged? Where am I going to get a human skull? to bother with whether what he was doing was literature, Mr. Dylan wrote: I too am often occupied with the pursuit of my creative endeavors and dealing with all aspects of life s mundane matters. Who are the best musicians for these songs? Am I recording in the right studio? Is this song in the right key? Some things never change, even in 400 years. Not once have I ever had the time to ask myself, Are my songs literature? Mr. Dylan, 75, concluded. So, I do thank the Swedish Academy, both for taking the time to consider that very question, and, ultimately, for providing such a wonderful answer. Earlier in the day, the Swedish Academy defended its nontraditional selection of a musician and a seemingly uninterested one, at that for the literary honor. (In his prepared remarks, Mr. Dylan would acknowledge his own inscrutable silence for two weeks after the prize was announced in October: I was out on the road when I received this surprising news, and it took me more than a few minutes to properly process it. )

44 In a speech in front of about 1,500 guests, including the Swedish royal family, Horace Engdahl, a member of the Nobel Committee, called Mr. Dylan a singer worthy of a place beside the Greek bards, beside Ovid, beside the Romantic visionaries, beside the kings and queens of the blues, beside the forgotten masters of brilliant standards. If people in the literary world groan, Mr. Engdahl added, one must remind them that the gods don t write, they dance and they sing. Mr. Engdahl s speech was followed by a fittingly imperfect Patti Smith, who delivered an estimable Dylan impression on his 1963 song, A Hard Rain s a-gonna Fall, but also proved his inimitable nature, flubbing a lyric and halting the performance midway through. I m sorry, she said before resuming. I m so nervous. Still, some in the audience could be seen crying as she finished the song accompanied by a string section. At the same time, Mr. Dylan, who cited only pre-existing commitments when he finally declined the Nobel invitation, was being spoken about in near-mythical terms outside of Stockholm, as well. Exactly where the singer was on Saturday during the Scandinavian festivities which included an evening banquet, with its traditional parade of desserts, after the afternoon white-tie award ceremony remained a mystery. He was not where he can most reliably be found these days onstage as his most recent batch of tour dates ended before Thanksgiving. But even with no public appearances scheduled, Mr. Dylan was also a spectral presence around his other, more private, known haunts. Neighbors at properties across the country that are registered in Mr. Dylan s name or that of his management company described a local legend who was hard to pin down and rarely, if ever, seen somewhere between Thomas Pynchon and Sasquatch. Outside of a gated home in Malibu, Calif., owned, according to local tax records, by Robert Dylan, a self-described security guard offered cryptically, What you re looking for doesn t exist here anymore. Theater Update Every week, stay on top of the top-grossing Broadway shows, recent reviews, Critics Picks and more. Receive occasional updates and special offers for The New York Times's products and services. Locals, however, described the folk legend as a phantom-like presence who had been seen intermittently in recent years. On Saturday morning during the Nobel ceremony, the home where Mr. Dylan is thought to live received visitors, including a white pickup truck advertising plumbing services. Two S.U.V.s

45 also gained entrance beyond the prominent No Trespassing sign and security cameras, but a voice on the intercom denied Mr. Dylan was inside. About 2,000 miles away, in Hanover, Minn., a few hours south of his native Hibbing, Mr. Dylan s legend also loomed, though his corporeal presence remained elusive. At a property associated with Mr. Dylan s companies, where his brother, David, is thought to live, a private drive lined with pine trees led to multiple buildings decorated for the holidays with lights and blowup Christmas characters. A half-mile down the road was the Hilltop Bar, the one place in town that locals could agree Mr. Dylan had patronized. But the owner, who declined to give his name, said he had not served Mr. Dylan in a few years. Nearby, at the Tom Thumb gas station, there were whispers that Mr. Dylan had been around town over Thanksgiving, though no one could say why he missed the Nobel events, which also included news conferences and an earlier meeting with President Obama. Still, Mr. Dylan has not yet entirely ducked the Swedish Academy. To receive the award, which comes with 8 million Swedish krona, or about $870,000, Nobel laureates are required to give a lecture on their subject within six months of Saturday s ceremonies, and though the academy said it had nothing on the books yet, there was hope. There is a chance that Bob Dylan will be performing in Stockholm next year, possibly in the spring, the academy said in a statement, in which case he will have a perfect opportunity to deliver his lecture. We will post more information as soon as we have it. Sheila Mulrooney Eldred, Ciaran McEvoy and Colin Moynihan contributed reporting. silver-elvis-c56432cd4f01#.rkr6ka8yv In 1965 Bob Dylan was brought to Andy Warhol s Silver Factory by Barbara Rubin, a filmmaker and a mutual acquaintance of Dylan and Warhol s, to be the subject of one of Warhol s screen tests, which were two-minute silent movie portraits starring Factory regulars and outside celebrities. Although some accounts have the meeting happening in January 1966, it more likely took place in July `65. Whatever the date, Dylan sat sullenly staring into the camera for a few minutes and

46 then was either given or appropriated (depending on the teller) a Warhol silkscreen of two overlapping images of Elvis Presley, part of what was known as the Silver Elvis series. In 1963, Warhol had developed the 22-piece series simply called Elvis for a show at The Ferus Gallery in Los Angeles, CA, appropriating an image of Presley from a publicity still from the 1960s film Flaming Star. The Silver Elvis series included several double Elvises, some with side-by-side and others with overlapping Elvises, many of which were now propped up against the Factory walls. According to Warhol, he gave one of those Double Elvises to Dylan. Other accounts have Dylan and Warhol doing a you re cool, man, no you re cooler, man potlatch dance around each other that ended with Warhol reluctantly giving the Elvis away. Still other stories have Dylan saying I ll take that (the Double Elvis) as payment [for the screen test], and Dylan s crew, which included his alter ego, Bobby Neuwirth and road manager Victor Maymudes, hustling the painting down the freight elevator before anyone in Warhol s camp could object. Andy: I liked Dylan, the way he created a brilliant new style I even gave him one of my silver Elvis paintings in the days when he was first around. Later on, though, I got paranoid when I heard rumors that he had used the Elvis as a dart board up in the country. When I d ask, Why did he do that? I d invariably get hearsay answers like I hear he feels you destroyed Edie [Sedgwick], or Listen to Like a Rolling Stone I think you re the diplomat on the chrome horse, man. I didn t know exactly what they meant by that I never listened much to the words of songs but I got the tenor of what people were saying that Dylan didn t like me, that he blamed me for Edie s drugs. Although this was Dylan s first meeting with Warhol, it was obvious that he had taken an instant dislike to the artist, responding to Warhol s hesitant questions in monosyllables before

47 abruptly leaving with the Double Elvis. Factory archivist and photographer Billy Name recalls Dylan putting out a cold and unresponsive vibe and another Factory hanger-on called Dylan a mean, bloody-minded and miserable speed freak. The most likely reason behind Dylan s attitude was Edie Sedgwick, a socialite/actress who had a rocky relationship with Warhol and the Factory gang and was a Dylan friend, something of a Dylan protégé, and was dating Dylan s right-hand man, Bobby Neuwirth. Among other talents, Neuwirth was a genius in bringing out Dylan s mean and vindictive streak, and probably had encouraged him to give Warhol the nasty street punk treatment. From all reports Warhol had been excited by the prospect of Dylan s visit, but his enthusiasm faded by the time of Dylan s departure. Whether Warhol actually ever liked Dylan is debatable, more probably what he had liked was the idea of Dylan s celebrity. But between Edie Sedgwick, the Siamese cats, chrome horses and diplomats, and the later Elvis-as-dartboard reports from Woodstock, whatever positive feelings he had for Dylan evaporated. Warhol took to satirizing Dylan in films like More Milk Yvette (which included a harmonica-playing Dylan lookalike); a spoof called the Bob Dylan Story ; and the repeated playing of a Dylan song at the wrong speed in Imitation of Christ. Leaving the Factory, Dylan and company hiked the Double Elvis, which probably had a market value of less than $1,000 at the time, to the top of his station wagon and drove off. Reports eventually floated back to Warhol that Dylan had thrown the Elvis in a closet, had hung it upside down, or was using it as dart board, all apparently designed to show his disdain for Warhol. One apocryphal story claimed that Dylan had somehow arranged to have a hose come through Elvis crotch so the painting could urinate on command. Gee, that s worth a lot of money, Andy said

48 upon being told that piece of gossip. He shouldn t have done that. In reality, Dylan hadn t damaged the painting, but he had gotten rid of it. All accounts including from Dylan himself have him trading the Elvis to his manager Albert Grossman for a sofa, a decision he d come to regret. Grossman s widow, Sally, later sold the painting at auction for a reported $750,000. Bob: I once traded an Andy Warhol Elvis Presley painting for a sofa, which was a stupid thing to do. I always wanted to tell Andy what a stupid thing I done, and if he had another painting he would give me, I d never do it again.

49 Vincent Fremont & Brigid Berlin Brigid Berlin, a star of Warhol movies, in a double-exposure self-portrait from the early 1970s, at Invisible-Exports. CreditBrigid Berlin, Vincent Fremont Enterprises Inc., and INVISIBLE-EXPORTS

50 Vincent Fremont Biography: Vincent and Shelly Dunn Fremont Biography VINCENT FREMONT began working for Andy Warhol shortly after arriving in New York in the summer of 1969, eventually serving as Vice-President of Andy Warhol Enterprises. In the 1970s and 1980s, Vincent produced and developed video, television, and film projects with Warhol, including Andy Warhol s Fifteen Minutes for MTV, Fight starring Charles Rydell and Brigid Berlin, and Phoney. Fremont was the Associate Producer on Merchant Ivory s 1989 film adaptation of Tama Janowitz s Slaves of New York. PIE IN THE SKY marks his debut as a documentary film director. SHELLY DUNN FREMONT attended Parsons School of Design, after which she worked as an art director for, among others, Estee Lauder, Avon Products, and Fashion of the Times magazine. Fremont has had a long association with the art world, working as an artist s representative, writing gallery reviews for the weekly downtown newspaper 7 Days, and serving as a director at the A/D Gallery. PIE IN THE SKY is her first film. When I first saw Brigid Berlin it was in the back room of Max s Kansas City. Brigid was attempting to take off Candy Darling s wig. It was all for the delight of a German TV camera crew. It was my first look at someone who will do almost anything for a good tape. Brigid and I have known each other for over 30 years. Twelve of those years have been spent trying to tell her life story that is full of extreme and obsessive behavior. Vincent Fremont Brigid Berlin Biography: Brigid Berlin (born September 6, 1939) is an American artist and former Warhol superstar. Early years Berlin was the eldest of three daughters born to socialite parents, Muriel (Johnson) "Honey" Berlin and Richard E. Berlin, into a world of Manhattan privilege. Her father was chairman of the Hearst media empire for 32 years. [1] As a child, Berlin regularly mixed with celebrities and the powerful: I would pick up the phone and it would be Richard Nixon. My parents entertained Lyndon Johnson, J. Edgar Hoover, and there were lots of Hollywood people because of San Simeon Clark Gable, Joan Crawford, Dorothy Kilgallen... I have a box of letters, written to my parents in the late 1940s and 1950s from the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. [2] Her socialite mother frequently worried about Brigid's weight and constantly attempted to get her to lose it through any means, from giving her cash for every pound she lost at age 11 to having the family doctor prescribe amphetamines and dexedrine. Berlin recalled, "My mother wanted me to be a slim, respectable socialite. Instead, I became an overweight troublemaker." [3]

51 She was briefly married to John Parker, a window dresser. They married in 1960 and later divorced. As Andy Warhol observed in his book Popism: "When Brigid brought her window dresser fiancé home to meet the family, her mother told the doorman to tell him to wait on a bench across the street in Central Park. Then she handed Brigid her wedding present a hundred dollar bill and told her to go to Bergdorf's and buy herself some new underwear with it. Then she added, 'Good luck with that fairy.'" [4] She has three siblings, all younger: sister Richie, who was, for a time, the roommate of Warhol Films' "It Girl" and superstar Edie Sedgwick; youngest sister Christina "Chrissy" Berlin, who was instrumental in engineering the defection of Russian ballet star Mikhail Baryshnikov; and the youngest sibling, brother Richard Berlin Jr. [5] Association with Andy Warhol fter several years as a reluctant debutante and a failed marriage, Brigid Berlin met Andy Warhol in 1964 and quickly became a central member of his entourage. [6] After moving to Hotel Chelsea, she took on the nickname Brigid Polk because of her habit of giving out 'pokes', injections of Vitamin B and amphetamines. These injections were readily available through the many 'Doctor Feelgoods' in New York and perfectly legal. Berlin appeared in several of Warhol's films, including Chelsea Girls (1966), in which she is seen injecting herself while performing a monologue, and Ciao! Manhattan (1972), which starred Edie Sedgwick. Decades later, she appeared in minor parts in two John Waters' films, Serial Mom (1994) and Pecker (1998). Pie in the Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story (2000) is a documentary in which she tells her life story in intimate detail and breaks her diet by consuming an entire meal of key lime pies. She was known for her obsessive taping and photographing of everyday life. Selections from these tapes were later compiled by Anthony Ingrassia to form the play Andy Warhol's Pork. Other tapes made by her were the basis for The Velvet Underground's first live album, Live at Max's Kansas City (recorded 1970, released 1972). Berlin was complicit in one of Warhol's most infamous pranks when, in 1969, Warhol announced that all of his paintings were the work of Berlin. Brigid enthusiastically followed this line when interviewed by Time. The prank led to a drop in the value of Warhol's work and both parties eventually retracted their statements. The question of authorship looms large in valuing Warhol's paintings to this day. [7] In 1975, Brigid Berlin began work as a permanent employee for Andy Warhol's Interview magazine, a position that she held until well after Warhol's death. Berlin would transcribe interviews and knit and needlepoint under the desk. Patricia Hearst (a close friend of Berlin's who began work at Interview in 1988) would observe "On my first day at work, I noticed two small pugs who seemed to have the run of the castle. They belonged to a woman who sat behind the front desk every day from 9:00 to 5:00, but who never seemed to answer the phone. Instead, she compulsively knitted, ate bags of candy and tended lovingly to the dogs." Artwork rigid Berlin is also famous for her prolific art, which has been argued by many to have been both influential to Andy Warhol's artwork and simultaneously overshadowed by Warhol's celebrity and own artwork. Berlin's "Tit Prints" were artworks created using her bare breasts. Berlin would dip her breasts into multiple colored paints and then create a print by pressing them down onto canvas/paper. The Tit Prints are arguably Berlin's most infamous work and were exhibited by Jane Stubbs at a gallery on Madison Avenue in On occasion, Berlin would publicly create Tit Prints, integrating visual art and performance art that "is totally not about nudity, this is about, you know, art." She performed this act live at the Gramercy International Art Fair. After experiencing the performance, filmmaker John Waters later commented, "I think that she's the most unselfconscious nude person... [She has] great confidence for a fat girl."

52 Berlin also compiled and maintained scrapbooks that she referred to as "trip books." [8] Volumes of these scrapbooks collecting cartoons and sketches of male genitalia were known as "The Cock Book" and included the genitalia of artists such as Jasper Johns, Robert Rauschenberg and Warhol. [9] Three volumes of "The Cock Book" sold for $175,000 at auction to artist Richard Prince. [10][11] Both Berlin and Warhol used the medium of Polaroid photography obsessively, and are said to have been very competitive in the Polaroid film department, whether over the best equipment or the best film. In German art dealer Heiner Friedrich did a small showing of Berlin's work called Polaroids and Tapes and created a catalogue for the work of the same name. [12] The experimental nature of Berlin's double-exposed Polaroids transcend the static, emotionless "icon" Polaroids of Warhol's, clearly showing the power of her personal vision and photographic style. Common subject matter of Berlin's Polaroids are self-portraits, Warhol Superstars, other artists and celebrities, and Off-Broadway one-woman shows. Berlin's digitized archives were published in 2015 as Brigid Berlin Polaroids with a foreword by John Waters. [13] A review of the book in the Wall Street Journal notes that Berlin was also the first person Andy Warhol allowed to photograph his body after the 1968 assassination attempt. [14] Fremont s Artist Statement: Berlin s Artist Statement: I GOT INTO POLAROIDS even before Andy got into them because of some pictures I saw in Vogue in the early 60s by Marie Cosindas. She was one of the first photographers to use Polaroids seriously. I wanted to take pictures like hers. Fremont Resume/Vita: Filmography Jump to: Producer Director Camera and Electrical Department Miscellaneous Crew Thanks Self Hide Producer (4 credits) 2000 Pie in the Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story (Documentary) (producer) 1989 Slaves of New York (associate producer) Minutes (TV Series) (producer - 1 episode) - Show #4 (1987)... (producer) 1979 Fashion (TV Series) (producer) Hide Director (2 credits) 2009 Saturday Night Live: Just Shorts (TV Special) (archive footage) 2000 Pie in the Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story (Documentary) Hide Camera and Electrical Department (1 credit) 2000 Pie in the Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story (Documentary) (additional cinematographer) Hide Miscellaneous Crew (1 credit)

53 2008 Andy Warhol's Factory People (TV Series documentary) (interview - 1 episode) - Welcome to the Silver Factory... (interview) Hide Thanks (3 credits) 2006 Factory Girl (the producers wish to thank) 1989 Warhol's Cinema : Mirror for the Sixties (TV Movie documentary) (thanks) 1979 Cocaine Cowboys (special thanks - as Vincent Freemont) Hide Self (5 credits) 2010 Beautiful Darling (Documentary) Himself 2008 Andy Warhol's Factory People (TV Series documentary) Himself - Your Fifteen Minutes Are Up (2008)... Himself - Welcome to the Silver Factory... Himself 2005 Vies et morts d'andy Warhol (TV Movie documentary) Himself / Interviewee 2001 Andy Warhol: The Complete Picture (TV Mini-Series documentary) Himself 1997 U2: A Year in Pop (TV Movie documentary) Himself Berlin Resume/Vita: Filmography Chelsea Girls (1966) Tub Girls (1967) Bike Boy (1967) The Nude Restaurant (1967) Imitation of Christ (1967) Four Stars**** (1967) aka 24 Hour Movie Lonesome Cowboys (1967) (originally Berlin was to play a leader of a rival gang of cowboys) The Loves of Ondine (1967) Women in Revolt (1971) Ciao! Manhattan (1972) Phoney (1973) Fight (1975) Andy Warhol's Bad (1977)

54 The Critical Years (1987) Serial Mom (1994) Pecker (1998) Pie in the Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story (1999) Danny Williams and the Dream Factory (2006) Article: Interview with Vincent Fremont and Shelly Dunn Fremont Until Pie in the Sky, Brigid Berlin was either a bright star in your firmament or terra incognita. A fixture of the Factory, a muse to Andy Warhol, a conceptual artist who pioneered Polaroid art, a star of the 1967 fi lm Chelsea Girls, Berlin is the kind of celebrity who can walk through many airports unnoticed today but attracts fans of all ages on the street in downtown New York. Now her longtime friends and colleagues in the New York art world, the husband-and-wife team Vincent Fremont and Shelly Dunn Fremont, have made a feature fi lm that communicates across boundaries about this utterly idiosyncratic artist. Pie in the Sky takes Berlin from her origins as the first child of wealth and high society, through her wild and drug-laced days at the Factory to her still-obsessional present in a highly ordered apartment. Filmed with top-line talent mostly in digibeta with a touch of Mini DV, the fi lm also incorporates a wealth of early media: early Warhol films, Polaroid pictures, audio tape of Brigid s conversations with her family and with her mother, and home movies. It also includes interviews with a variety of artists, and writer Bob Colacello and filmmaker John Waters interpret Brigid Berlin for outsiders with manifest affection. Vincent Fremont, now sales agent for the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, produced television, video, and fi lm projects with Andy Warhol. Shelly Dunn Fremont has worked as an art director in the fashion world. This is their first documentary film. The Fremonts spoke (serially) with Pat Aufderheide about the challenges of making movies across formats, friendships and generations. Their comments are identified with their initials. This is a project with a very long history behind it SDF: I like to say this project started 60 years ago when her father started filming her. But it took a year of shooting, editing and postproduction. This is our fi rst project together, but it involved family friends. I met Andy before I met Vincent, and got to know that whole crowd. VF: It was an evolution. I met Brigid 30 years ago and I started working for Andy in The fi rst time I met her was at the Factory, so this is a 30 year project. Soon after Andy died, I optioned Brigid s life story. I wanted her to write her story in book form. As years went by I showed her trip books and cookbooks [two of Berlin s artistic projects] at international art fairs. In 1995 I exhibited her books at the Gramercy International Art Fair. They hadn t been seen for 20 or 25 years, and they included contributions by many notable artists, so people came to revisit the work. Then in 1996, I got her to do her monologue at the Gramercy International Art Fair, which she hadn t done since Brigid Polk Strikes,the outrageous performance we recall in the fi lm, in She wanted to do other monologues and have an exhibit of her prints, so I started talking with art advisors. At that point, I was still trying to get her to do a book, so the idea was to do chapter monologues, where she would perform, talk about her life and we would transcribe it. We only did three of them. During the one about the kitchen, where she was talking about her cleaning obsession, she said she would rather do her life story on camera, and we said let s do a movie. Was Brigid Berlin a cooperative subject? SDF: She was amazing. To have us filming in her house, where there wasn t room for a toothpick, was hard,

55 but she was very gracious. We did choose not to show some aspects of her life, which would take us in a different direction. But she didn t say one word about what to leave in or out. She wasn t involved in any aspect of it, she was really terrific, she stayed far away. She understood that. She s been an actress for years. Not that she couldn t make our lives difficult, but in that aspect she was very professional. How did you find your production team? VF: We worked with very good people, some of whom we knew and some of whom came to us through friends. We wanted to go outside the circle a bit, to people who could give us perspective, because we were so close to the subject matter. I think we were sensitive to the fact that we would have references that only a few people would pick up. This is also the first feature I ve done, although I produced all the TV shows for Andy. We worked with a wonderful editor named Michael Levine, who was recommended to us. Michael is younger than my wife and me, with different points of reference. He played a key role in structuring, in finding and shaping the story. SDF: We decided to have all original music--it s too expensive to get music rights. But we also needed original music to evoke meaning without prompting memories that take you away from the movie Oh, I remember hearing that song when I learned to drive... Chris Stein, a founding member of Blondie, wrote the whole score, all original music except for Honey and All the Way. We d known Chris for years, and it was a great collaboration. We d give him an idea for, say, a Mexico scene, and he would come back with the piece that was just perfect for that moment. I love the theme song for her house. Debbie [Harry] sang All the Way at the end for us. She said, it s so corny, you really want it? Ok! Our cinematographer, Vic Losick, was terrifi c he had worked on a lot of American Masters. He had just made The Cruise, and we begged him to help us. He could do a one-camera shoot, he wasn t balking at carrying the camera. He s very handsome and charming, so Brigid liked that it kept her interest. And he brought so much good experience and quality people. We wanted it not to be fl at and videolike, and we wanted to light the house so you could see all the collections, so it would be as cinematic as possible he made it possible. The fi lm also acts as a kind of interpreter of an intense scene and moment in the New York art world for audiences. VF: Within the circles of people I know, and the artists Brigid knew in the late 1960s, those people understand who she is. A lot of people don t understand that now, that Brigid was not a groupie, she was considered one of them, not a hanger on. She s a conceptual artist with lots of ideas. SDF: There was a temptation to go further, into Warhol or the 1960s or the art world, but we decided not to go there. It s about one woman, a brilliant conceptual artist, who has done an amazing amount of work. We wanted to show her brilliance and the work she is known for. We wanted to have people rediscover her. Brigid Berlin is a character whose obsessions and self absorption could have alienated viewers or elicited pity. How did you cope with the challenge of portraying her in ways that could engage viewers? SDF: We grappled with the problem constantly. We tried to be even handed, keep it as neutral as possible. We didn t want to exploit these struggles she s had all her life. There were three things we were dealing with: her struggles with her mother, her weight, and her relationship as an artist with Andy. Andy always had amazing women surrounding him, but Brigid and Andy s friendship was certainly something we wanted to bring out and illustrate. VF: They had a singular relationship. They were like a married couple in a way. We also wanted to tell her life in a way that people could have a universal understanding. And I think people can identify with her. We also didn t want to make it a dark story. It s got dark aspects, but it s not all dark. You feel for her and the struggles she has with her weight and with her mother. But she actually has a good life. She s taken obsession to a kind of artform. It s almost shocking to overhear in your fi lm, so many years later, the conversations between her and Andy Warhol phone conversations

56 she audiotaped compulsively, it seems. SDF: Those tapes of their conversations are little gems. There are wonderful insights into him as a person and their relationship in them. There s a caring that most people don t associate with Andy. You can also hear the contrast between the coldness of her family those tapes of her conversations with her mother--and the warmth of the Warhol tapes. One of the peak moments of the fi lm is a split screen segment, in which on the left we see clips from Chelsea Girls including the notorious scene of Brigid injecting herself through her jeans- -and on the right Brigid today, imitating her mother ranting at her about her performance in that underground fi lm. SDF: The split screen of course was an homage to Chelsea Girls, which used the split screen. We decided we wanted to use that device somehow in the movie. Our editor Michael Levine, who s just a genius, figured it out. We kept doing these monologues with Brigid, and we were fascinated by them, but when we showed them to people we realized we lost them. With the split screens, it s, Oh my God, it works! How different is the fi lm from the one you started out imagining? VF: We had kind of a script in the beginning, but it s very different from the finished fi lm. SDF: We showed it to an editing class at NYU, when we had a cut that was dark and bleak. They didn t get it; it was too negative. Thank God Brigid didn t see that one. She waited till we were 80 percent there, and then we showed it on the Avid in a little editing room and she really loved it, and what a relief that was. Going back to the NYU kids was just as scary. But this time they said, Hey, it s a different movie. VF: That time time we got a round of applause. We kept honing it down, and the themes began revealing themselves to us-- the obsession with her weight, which you see with all the weighing and measuring, the struggle with her mother, her work as an artist. People forget she was and is an artist. Did you consider giving viewers more information about Warhol, the Factory, Chelsea, that whole phenomenon? VF: We really wanted to concentrate on her. Therefore, there is no narrator, and there are few guests. Bob Colacello is wonderful as the person who articulates her background. John Waters is there as another filmmaker. So you get a sense of Brigid without having someone tell you. There are so many formats used in this fi lm that it s like a record of 30 years of production in itself. VF: Yes, and that created some headaches. We took clips of Andy s fi ms, so that s 16mm that years ago was blown up to 35mm and then converted to 1 inch. We had the reel-to-reel half-inch video that Michael Netter and I shot in the 1970s. Then we have Brigid s family s 16mm color fi lm, which I conserved and put together with the help of John Gartenberg. We shot new footage with digibeta, and then in the scene where she s eating key lime pie, that was Mini DV. We took all the formats, mastered it on digibeta, and DuArt blew it up to 35mm. SDF: It was lucky for us that DuArt had invented this tape-to-fi lm laser process, because we could work locally. We sent a fi ve-minute sample to Switzerland, to Los Angeles and to them, and they were the best. The transfer to 35mm was an act of faith. VF: It certainly was. We did it before we knew what we would get. But so far it s working out well. We got accepted to the Venice Film Festival. We applied cold to Venice; we sent a cassette in off the Avid, with no sound mix, so we were very surprised and happy with the news. We re waiting to hear about Sundance, and we ll be in Berlin in February. Then we ll open at Film Forum on April 25. Did your notion of the audience change over time as the fi lm evolved? VF: I think we re still waiting to see what the audience is. Ideally, the audience we would like is 20-somethings to my age. Did you have models in your minds for the kind of documentary you wanted to make? SDF: We d say it was Grey Gardens meets Unzipped. That character of Isaac [Mizrahi, the central fi gure of Unzipped] is the character of Brigid, a real character who s hilarious and a natural in front of the camera. And one of my all time favorite documentaries was the documentary Crumb. Did you find that you learned a lot from your first production? SDF: Oh yes--i never had a clue going into this how

57 much I would learn! Of course, what I ve learned mostly is what we ve done wrong, but I ve also learned I really like the process, the collaboration; it s a larger scale version of the kinds of working relationships I m used to as an art director. I keep discovering things. Now that we re going to Berlin and we need to subtitle the fi lm, I wish we had put the IDs for people s name and the names of films in the upper right hand corner. It s just one of those things that never occurred to me. Can you estimate the cost of production? SDF: It was all privately financed. VF: I never give out dollar figures. Too scary. Article: Remembering Andy: A Conversation with John Waters and Vincent Fremont Lambert Family Lecture Fri, Oct 3, PM Listen in as two icons discuss Andy Warhol s films and his lasting influence on cinema and American culture. LGeneral public tickets include one free admission to the exhibition Andy Warhol: Other Voices, Other Rooms for October 3 or 4. Inimitable filmmaker John Waters (Pink Flamingos, the original Hairspray, Crybaby) has made a career of pushing the boundaries of his art form, just like Warhol, and his earliest work was inspired by Warhol s films. Director and producer Vincent Fremont began working for Warhol in 1969 and played an integral role in Warhol s subsequent film, television, and video production, later serving as vice president of Andy Warhol Enterprises. Tonight the two trade Warhol stories, insights, and reminiscences. Keep reading for more about the speakers and the photos. John Waters was born in Baltimore, Maryland, in 1946 and was drawn to movies at an early age. He was particularly interested in popular exploitation movies with lurid ad campaigns. He subscribed to Variety at the age of 12, absorbing the magazine's factual information and its lexicon of insider lingo. This early education would prove useful as the future director began his career giving puppet shows for children's birthday parties. As a teenager, Waters began making 8mm underground movies influenced by the likes of Jean-Luc Godard, Walt Disney, Russ Meyer, Ingmar Bergman, Herschell Gordon Lewis, and Andy Warhol. Using Baltimore, which he fondly dubbed the "Hairdo Capitol of the World," as the setting for all his films, Waters assembled a cast of ensemble players, mostly native Baltimoreans and friends of long standing: Divine, David Lochary, Mary Vivian Pearce, Mink Stole, and Edith Massey. He also established lasting relationships with key production people, such as production designer Vincent Peranio, costume designer Van Smith, and casting director Pat Moran, helping to give his films that trademark Waters "look." In 1972 Waters created what would become the most "notorious" film in the American independent cinema of the 1970s, Pink Flamingos. Centered on the great battle to secure the title "Filthiest People Alive," Pink Flamingos pitted Divine's Babs Johnson against Mink Stole and David Lochary's truly evil Connie and Raymond Marble and turned Waters into a cult celebrity. Pink Flamingos went on to become a smash success at midnight screenings in the U.S. and all over the world. Commenting on the long-lasting popularity of the film, at its 25th-anniversary theatrical re-release, Waters proudly boasted, "it's hard to offend three generations, but it looks like I've succeeded." In addition to writing and directing 15 other feature films, Waters is the author of five books: Shock Value, Crackpot, Pink Flamingos and Other Trash, Hairspray, Female Trouble and Multiple Maniacs, and Art: A Sex Book (cowritten with art critic Bruce Hainley).

58 Concurrent to his careers as a filmmaker and author, John Waters is also a photographer whose work, presently represented by the Marianne Boesky Galley in New York, has been shown in galleries and museums all over the world since 1992, including at the Wexner Center in Waters is a member of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences and is on the Wexner Center International Arts Advisory Council. Additionally, he is a member of the boards of The Andy Warhol Foundation and Printed Matter. Vincent Fremont began working for Andy Warhol shortly after arriving in New York in the summer of For nearly twenty years, until Warhol s death in February 1987, he worked for the Factory in various capacities. Fremont was the vice-president of Andy Warhol Enterprises and the executive manager of the Andy Warhol studio. In the 1970s and 1980s, Fremont produced and developed video, television, and film projects, including Andy Warhol s TV and Andy Warhol s Fifteen Minutes. After Warhol s death, Fremont was one of the founding directors of the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. He was closely involved in establishing the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, guiding in the selection of the founding collection. Fremont served as the curator of Cast a Cold Eye, a 2006 exhibition of late Warhol paintings at Gagosian Gallery, and is the foundation s exclusive sales agent for Andy Warhol s paintings, drawings, and sculpture. He also acts as an agent for artist Deborah Kass. With his wife, Shelly Dunn, he codirected and coproduced an award-wining documentary titled Pie in the Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story, which chronicles the life of Warhol Superstar Brigid Berlin. Fremont and Dunn are currently developing an independent feature film. Image 2: Andy signing papers (perhaps the Mao Xerox print he did for The New York Collection for Stockholm), Vincent Fremont sitting in window, Fred Hughes reading, dates probably from The picture was taken in the front part of Andy's sixth floor studio at 33 Union Square West, Manhattan. Image 3: The people starting from the left are as follow: Andy Warhol, Vincent Fremont, and Federico De Laurentiisin the background Thomas Ammann, Bob Colacello, walking up the street after leaving Elaine's Restaurant, Manhattan, dates probably from Image 4: Pictured from left Andy Warhol, Nicky Weymouth, and Vincent Fremont, leaving Elaine's Restaurant, Manhattan, dates probably from Review: The New York Times Art Review Brigid Berlin, a Warhol Satellite Full of Personality By MARTHA SCHWENDENEROCT. 29, 2015 Brigid Berlin was a bit player in the 1960s and 70s art world, known for her brassy roles in Andy Warhol s films like Chelsea Girls (1966). Like many people who hang around artists, Ms. Berlin is an artist too. (Modern women like the ceramist Beatrice Wood and the Dada poet and collagist Elsa von

59 Freytag-Loringhoven also come to mind.) This show focuses on Ms. Berlin s work rather than her zany personality, which was on full view in the documentary Pie in the Sky: The Brigid Berlin Story (2000). Yet Ms. Berlin s personality is the backbone for her work. She recorded herself on cassette tapes, usually in conversation with other people, and a selection of these are on display and running as a soundtrack in the gallery. The conversations are mundane and often hilarious a kind of audio Pop Art that includes gossip about people you don t know and Ms. Berlin reading food product labels. On the walls are Polaroid self-portraits from the early 70s, many made using a double-exposure that recreates the psychedelic effects of the druggy 60s (of which Ms. Berlin was very much a part). Then there are the Tit Prints from the 90s, which Ms. Berlin made by applying colored inks to her breasts and pressing them against paper. In an era when the exposed female breast is once again a political issue (censored on social media and part of a recent free the nipple campaign), Ms. Berlin s prints seem less of a lark and more like a strident, celebratory statement by an artist who was never shy about exposing well, anything. Article: Notes on Brigid Berlin (aka Brigid Polk) Brigid Berlin: "My mother wanted me to be a slim respectable socialite... Instead I became an overweight troublemaker." (ST/BB) Brigid Berlin was born on September 6, Her parents were Richard E. Berlin, the chairman of the Hearst media empire for 52 years, and socialite "Honey" Berlin, whose real name was Muriel. Richard was 22 years older than Honey who was 21 at the time of their marriage. Brigid was born approximately nine months later. Brigid's sister, Richie, was born after Brigid, followed by another sister, Christina, and then a brother, Richard. Richie, who was named after her father, sometimes hung out with Brigid in New York and also appeared briefly in the non-warhol film, Ciao Manhattan. Brigid's other sister, Christina, arranged the defection of the Russian ballet dancer, Mikhail Baryshnikov. When Richard Berlin found out about his daughter's involvement with Baryshnikov, he wasn't pleased. Brigid recalls: "I remember Daddy went nuts - 'If she marries that commie bastard...!'" (NYO) Brigid Berlin:

60 Mother was a New York society girl... She smoked. She didn't read books... She went to every fashion show because Daddy ran the show at Hearst... He got the company out of debt; he sold off newspapers to buy television stations. When Patty Hearst was kidnapped, he held the purse strings, and he was reluctant to give up the ransom money to get her back... At our apartment, at 834 Fifth Avenue, my mother had needle-point thrones, not toilets - very French. My mother slept with her makeup on. When I was 10 years old I found her Tampax, and she told me they were for removing makeup. So every night I cleansed my face with cold cream and Tampax. She had plastic vibrators, and she told us they were for her neck. I cannot picture her having sex. She wore heels at home - in the house, for Christ's sake!... My mother didn't work... She got her hair done every day, over at the House of Charm on Madison and 61st Street. When I was 11, she gave me a permanent. (NYO) Brigid Berlin's parents were very "up there" - a term that Warhol would later use to describe the socially advantaged. Her family's friends included major Hollywood celebrities and world leaders: Brigid Berlin: I would pick up the phone and it would be Richard Nixon. My parents entertained Lyndon Johnson, J. Edgar Hoover, and there were lots of Hollywood people because of San Simeon - Clark Gable, Joan Crawford, Dorothy Kilgallen... I have a box of letters, written to my parents in the late 1940's and 1950's from the Duke and Duchess of Windsor. (Ibid) Honey Berlin was constantly trying to get Brigid to lose weight as a child, giving her cash for every pound she lost and pharmaceutical "speed" to help her lose it. Brigid was sent to the family doctor at the age of eleven to get amphetamines and dexedrine (little orange hearts), while her mother took Preludin. According to Brigid, "Everyone was doing it. Jack and Jackie Kennedy went to Max Jacobson's." (NYO) Max Jacobson was the doctor famous for his vitamin B shots laced with speed. Brigid Berlin: My mother used to go to Papillon and the Colony and have three asparagus spears. She was a one-spoonful gal. Not me! She used to take us to Paris, but she spent her whole time in couture fittings, so my sister and I ran around Paris eating...they all ate like birds, so I started to sneak the uneaten food in the middle of the night. (NYO) At the age of 16, Brigid was sent to a school in St. Blaise, Switzerland to lose "50 pounds" but she would "pilfer the other girls' money and go on pastry binges... My roommate and I decided to get drunk. I got so fucking wasted I was doing Indian dances. I woke up the next day, and there was shit on the

61 floor next to my bed. One of the mademoiselles entered the room and demanded, 'Qu'est-ce que c'est que ca?' I said, 'C'est le chien,'" blaming it on the dog. "She said 'C'est trop grand!' They they wrote home to my parents and told them I was using my bedroom as a toilet." (Ibid) Brigid completed her education at the Convent of the Sacred Heart Eden Hall in Pennsylvania, a Catholic school where her father had sent her, saying "At least you're not going to get Communism from the nuns!" (Ibid) According to Brigid in the film about her life, Pie In the Sky, her father used to donate Italian Madonna and child paintings to the school to prevent herself and her sister, Richie, from getting thrown out. The only subject that Brigid ever passed was penmanship. (BB) During school holidays, Brigid worked at Harpers Bazaar which was published by the Hearst Corporation. Her job was to detach the dollar bills that people sent in with letters requesting the Harper's Bazaar Beauty Box. (NYO) BRIGID BERLIN COMES OUT After finishing her schooling, Brigid Berlin returned to New York for her comingout party: "I was a debutante, so I needed two escorts. My mother went crazy when I invited the electrian who was working on our TV wires at our house in Westchester" as one of the escorts. She then moved to Manhattan, hanging out with people like Wendy Vanderbilt and George Hamilton - "I think I spent the night with him - I'm not sure" - and going out to places such as Michael II's on 70th Street, Malachy McCourt's bar on Third Avenue (owned by the brother of Frank McCourt) and Clavins, opposite the first Serendipity. (NYO) She went to Dr. Freiman for speed injections - who was often referred to as Dr. Feelgood. Brigid later described what would then happen: "He took my Hermes scarf off and blindfolded himself and said, 'I'm going to make you feel better than any man has made you feel.' His shots were amphetamine, diuretic and B12. By then I was 19 and very high, and my sister and I would go straight to Bloomie's and start charging." (Ibid) BRIGID BERLIN'S GAY HUSBAND At the age of 21 she married a gay window trimmer, John Parker, who worked at a store on 57th and Fifth named The Tailored Woman. According to Brigid, Parker "had the deepest windows in town. I knew all the window-dressers up and down the avenue - Joel Schumacher, Gene Moore." Parker and Brigid stole her father's Cadillac and drove to Cherry Grove, Fire Island where they rented a house and renamed it Brigadoon. She would travel to Manhattan on the seaplane to pick up checks, to shop and to check on the apartment at 65th Street. She recalls: "I hung out with all these piss-elegant queens... I was

62 insane, but also very grand. I went through $100,000, and my mother went beserk." (NYO) Andy Warhol (via Pat Hackett in Popism): When Brigid brought her window dresser fiance home to meet the family, her mother told the doorman to tell him to wait on a bench across the street in Central Park. Then she handed Brigid her wedding present - a hundred dollar bill - and told her to to to Bergdorf's and buy herself some new underwear with it. Then she added, 'Good luck with that fairy'. (POP104) The marriage to John Parker dissolved when the money was gone, Brigid having failed to turn her husband into a straight man, although they did have sex. (BB) REHAB After the break up, Brigid's father's friend, Lyndon Johnson, got her into a rehab facility in Mexico to lose weight, letting her mother take care of Brigid's first pug - a gift from Sylvia Sidney. The hospital was the first that was experimenting with fasting. Although Brigid had to take a daily urine test to make sure she wasn't eating, she cheated by putting nail polish in her urine, thinking that one of the drugs in the nail polish was the same one produced by the body to indicate fasting. While in the hospital she had an affair with one of the psychologists and two of the doctors. Brigid Berlin: But I ended back up in New York with the plan of getting another job - but not knowing how to type and basically not having any interest in anything except shopping and staying out all night. (BB) BRIGID MEETS ANDY After returning to New York, Brigid ended up living at the Chelsea Hotel on West 23rd Street in what she now remembers as Room 907. In Popism, Andy Warhol described Brigid's life at the Chelsea: "Brigid swore that she never went into her own room there more than once a week - the rest was just in-house visiting, running from room to room..." (POP175) Although she had already seen Warhol around New York, in approximately 1964 Henry Geldzahler took her to the (silver) factory and she became part of the scene there. She was nicknamed Brigid Polk because of the "pokes" she liked to give herself and others - injections of speed. Warhol and Brigid became close friends, with Andy ringing her daily. She was the main "B" in Warhol's book, Andy Warhol's Philosophy (From A to B and Back

63 Again) - although "B" really represented any of the people he spoke to regularly on the phone. She would also go shopping with him or watch movies together (Brigid: "I didn't like the kind of TV that Andy liked. His favorite show was I Dream of Jeannie/) (I11) Brigid Berlin: Andy and I didn't go out that much together. We'd spend our time talking on the phone. He use to call me up in the morning - he always talked about his health with me. I think I was the health person. There were other people he used for different topics. And he'd say all of a sudden out of the clear blue - 'Brige, my balls are sore... [Brigid would reply:] 'Oh god Andy, c'mon, I don't know anthing about sore balls. (BB) Brigid was known for her obsessive tape recording and Polaroid taking. She tape recorded "everything" from , taking pride in the quality of her recordings - "I always had the best microphones, you know". A tape she made of the Velvet Underground performing at Max's was so good that Atlantic made it into an album. (I11) Andy Warhol (via Pat Hackett in Popism): I guess it was all the mechanical action that was the big thing for me at the Factory at the end of the sixties... The big question that everyone who came by the Factory was suddenly asking everyone else was 'Do you know anyone who'll transcribe some tapes?' Everyone, absolutely everyone, was tape-recording everyone else. Machinery had already taken over people's sex lives - dildos and all kinds of vibrators - and now it was taking over their social lives, too, with tape recorders and Polaroids.The running joke between Brigid and me was that all our phone calls started with whoever'd been called by the other saying, 'Hello, wait a minute' and running to plug in and hook up.' (POP291) The conversations that Brigid Berlin taped between herself and her mother were the basis for Andy Warhol's play in the early seventies, Pork. Brigid sold the tapes to Warhol for $25.00 each. (BB) Brigid was infamous for her telephone calls - some were featured in Warhol's film The Chelsea Girls. In 1968 she performed a "mixed media" event - at the Bouwerie Lane Theatre called Bridget Polk Strikes! Her Satanic Majesty in Person, in which she made phone calls to friends from the stage and broadcasted the live conversations to the audience, without telling the person she was talking to over the phone - which included Huntington Hartford and her parents. (Ibid) ANDY FILMS BRIGID

64 Brigid Berlin appeared in various Warhol films and video projects including The Chelsea Girls (1966), Bike Boy (1967), Imitation of Christ (1967), **** (1967), The Loves of Ondine (1967), The Nude Restaurant (1967), Tub Girls (1967), Phoney (Video ), Fight (Video ) and Andy Warhol's Bad(1976). She was also originally scheduled to appear in Lonesome Cowboys. She also appeared in the non-warhol film, Ciao Manhattan with Edie Sedgwick and made a cameo appearance in John Water's film Serial Mom (1994) - on the set for which she met and befriended Patricia Hearst - the daughter of her father's old "boss", William Randolph Hearst, and ex-member of the Symbionese Liberation Army. Brigid also appeared in John Waters' Pecker (1998). THE COCK BOOK Brigid was also known for her own art projects - her "trip" books from the sixties, her Polaroids and her "tit" paintings. Brigid Berlin: When we were all on amphetamine in the sixties this is what we used to do - would be to draw in our trip books and I could spend my life drawing circles and filling the circle with circles and more dots and more circles around it and then coloring them all with Doctor Martin's watercolor dyes. (BB) When she came across a large book full of blank pages with the title, Topical Bible, at a shop on Broadway, she decided to use it as a trip book and wanted to choose a theme for it. "Topical" ryhmed with "cockical" so she made it into a cock book. In addition to drawing in it herself, she would take it with her to Max's or the Factory and get whoever was around at the time to make a cock drawing in the book. Among the people who contributed to the book were Taylor Mead, Billy Sullivan, Jasper Johns, Robert Rauschenberg, Jane Fonda, Roger Vadim, Peter Beard, Dennis Hopper, Ondine, Richard Avedon and Leonard Cohen.(ibid) Brigid also did other trip books, including the scar book - "snapshots of welts from all over town". (ST) Gerard Malanga: THE POLAROIDS Brigid Polk was doing Polaroids in 1969 and Heiner Friedrich did a little show of her work. I think the show was called Tapes and Polaroids.(AWP116) What made Brigid's Polaroids unique was that she often double exposed them which had not been done previously - the technology didn't exist. When Polaroid

65 brought out a camera that enabled double exposures, Brigid took full advantage of it when photographing others or herself - double exposed self portrait Polaroids. THE TIT PAINTINGS Brigid Berlin's technique for her Tit paintings consisted of dipping her tits in paint and then pressing them down onto canvas. When she performed this live at the Grammercy International Art Fair, one of the spectators was filmmaker John Waters: John Waters: I think that she's the most un-selfconscious nude person. I mean I've never been nude - I really take a bath in my underpants. But when I saw Brigid doing her tit painting - she just took off her blouse and started, you know, using her tits as painting. She said this is totally not about nudity, this is about, you know, art. (BB) The Tit paintings were exhibited by Jane Stubbs at a gallery on Madison Avenue in Also on exhibit were Brigid's pillows stuffed with cut-out penises. (ST) Jane Stubbs: Brigid would cut them out of muscle magazines while she was watching the OJ trial. She got very involved in the trial and she took out her frustrations on thousands of men, thousands of penises. I mean it was quite mad. (BB) DRUGS Brigid continued to drink and take drugs in the early seventies: She recalls: "In the early 70s, I went to Woolworth's and bought a jigger so I could have just one getting-dressed drink. By the time I left the house, I'd had 20. One time, I was in a hairdresser under the dryer getting bored. I went to the bar across the street in my rollers and had a glass of white wine. Then another glass of wine and another. I can't remember anything else until I woke up in a Howard Johnson near La Guardia Airport. And there were pancakes and maple syrup. There was a cute boy in the room watching Kids Are People Too. I think I thought that Andy would put him on the cover of Interview. He didn't." (NYO) After numerous unsuccessful attempts, Brigid eventually cleaned up through twelve step fellowships in the mid-late 80s and still deals on a daily basis with her addiction to food. Her drugs of choice were speed and Majorska vodka. (I11) THE FACTORY

66 Brigid Berlin became a permanent employee at the Factory in 1975, working at the front desk and transcribing interviews, and continued working there in the eighties. Brigid Berlin: I would transcribe interviews, and then for many years I didn't do anything. I used to knit and needlepoint under the desk. It wasn't like a job, so that's why I stayed there so long. I was the first one there in the morning, but as soon as I got there I would watch the clock all day till I could leave. And every year I left five minutes earlier, and Andy used to look down at his watch and say 'Where are you going?' I'd say, 'I'm going home.' 'Well, the fun's just beginning,' he'd say. And then he'd give me a hundred dollars and tell me to go to the liquour store and get some Irish whiskey and I'd come back and make Irish coffee, get smashed, tell Andy he was a slob and that I hated him. (I11) The year prior to working at the Factory was spent as a recluse in her New York apartment, losing weight. By living on "bouillon and tea" she managed to lose 160 pounds in a year. At home she would cut out press clippings of Warhol which she would sell to him for 50 cents a clipping. Dimitri Ehrlich, an employee at Interview magazine, later described his first impression of Brigid when he started working there in 1988: In 1988, when I first started working at Interview, the magazine was still housed in the last of the Warhol factories. On my first day at work, I noticed two small pugs who seemed to have the run of the castle. They belonged to a woman who sat behind the front desk every day from 9:00 to 5:00, but who never seemed to answer the phone. Instead, she compulsively knitted, ate bags of candy and tended lovingly to the dogs. A few months later I learned that this mysterious woman was Brigid Berlin. (Ill) HONEY DIES Eventually, Brigid's father, Richard E. Berlin contacted Alzheimer's disease. Brigid recalls: "Daddy's Alzheimer's was really fun. He denied everything - 'You're not my children!' - and gave my gay sister's girlfriend a cigar when she came over." (NYO) Her mother, Honey Berlin, died four months after Andy Warhol: "In 1986, she [Honey] was lying in her bed, dying of cancer, and she was still calling the saleswomen to get new Adolfo's at the Saks in White Plains. She had them hung on her door so she could look at them." When Honey died, Brigid reacted by going "upstairs with two pocketfuls of Toll House cookies and started going through her jewelry."

67 In January 1998, Brigid perfomed another stage show - a monologue about one of her obsessions - cleaning products. According to Daisy Garnett in the Sunday Telegraph magazine, "It was a performance which people talk about having seen with a certain smugness, the way they might boast about having seen Talking Heads at CBGBs in 1975." (ST) Brigid Berlin still lives in New York "a few blocks north of Manhattan's fashionable Grammercy Park" (ibid) She has two pugs named India and Africa: "I don't like it when they call them 'dogs' - they are my children. I have to have a car and a driver; I want them with me. Every day we stop at Grace's Market and get chicken breasts." (NYO) BRIGID RELAPSES Brigid Berlin relapsed on alcohol in about She was admitted into rehab at CARON (Comprehensive Addiction Treatment Recovery for Life) in Pennsylvania on August 26, 2007 and Silver Hill Hospital in Connecticut in Brigid Berlin [2008]:... I didn't have a drink for 17 years. I thought my life was pretty good and I was pretty happy. And then three years ago this month, I was just walking the dogs around the block like I did every night and something ticked me off that I wanted fettuccini Alfredo. I went into a restaurant down the block and I had the dogs, and they didn't want to let me in, but there was this tiny table in front, and I said, 'If I sit really near the window, they're not going to bite anybody. Can I just get this takeout order?' And I ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio out of nowhere... (VF) Brigid Berlin, Gerard Malanga, Vincent Fremont and Bob Colacello (plus the back of the front row heads of sociologist Victor P. Corona, author Thomas Kiedrowski and Ben House) In 2015 Reel Art Press published an (excellent) collection of Brigid's Polaroids. The Strand bookstore held a panel discussion with Brigid, Gerard Malanga, Vincent Fremont and Bob Colacello in conjunction with the book. It can be seen on YouTube here.

68 John Giorno (Photo left) (Photo right)

69 Link to Gallery Page: Artist Statement: My various projects the poem paintings, LPs and CDs, Dial-a-Poem, and the written poems all have the same purpose: to connect to an audience. A poem is wisdom in a few words. I m not sure where the words originate, but sometimes it does feel very much like one s a vehicle, that they re coming out so fast that you re not even thinking about them. From emptiness, form arises. I have this theory about when a poem works. When you perform a poem and the audience is enraptured, you just feel it. It s not necessarily that it s a great poem; the audience thinks that they re hearing these words, but in my mind that s not so. What they re hearing is the reflection of something in their mind. Any great poem any great work is just a mirror held up to someone else s mind. Resume/Vita: John Giorno, Career Giorno was born in New York. He graduated from Columbia University in 1958, where he was a "college chum" of physicist Hans Christian von Baeyer. [2] In 1962, while in his early twenties he briefly worked in New York as a stockbroker. In 1962 he met Andy Warhol during Warhol's first New York Pop Art solo exhibit at Eleanor Ward's Stable Gallery. They became lovers and Warhol remained an important influence for Giorno's developments on poetry, performance and recordings. Warhol's 1963 silent film Sleep shows Giorno sleeping on camera for more than five hours. [3] A lesser-known Warhol film featuring Giorno, John Washing (also 1963), runs a mere 4½ minutes. [4] Giorno and Warhol are said to have remained very close until 1964, after which time their meetings were rare. Their relationship was revived somewhat in the last year before Warhol's death. Inspired by Warhol, and subsequent relationships with Robert Rauschenberg and Jasper Johns, Giorno began applying Pop Art techniques of appropriation of found imagery to his poetry, producing The American Book of the Dead in 1964 (published in part in his first book, Poems, in 1967). Meetings with William S. Burroughs and Brion Gysin in 1964 contributed to his interest in applying cut up and montage techniques to found texts, and (via Gysin) his first audio poem pieces, one of which was played at the Paris Museum of Modern Art Biennale in Inspired by Rauschenberg's Experiments in Art and Technology events of 1966, Giorno began making "Electronic Sensory Poetry Environments", working in collaboration with synthesizer creator Robert Moog and others to create psychedelic poetry installation/happenings at venues such as St. Mark's Church in New York. In 1965, Giorno founded a not-for-profit production company, Giorno Poetry Systems in order to connect poetry to new audiences, using innovative technologies. In 1967, Giorno organized the first Dial-A-Poem event at the Architectural League of New York, making short poems by various contemporary poets available over the telephone. The piece was repeated to considerable acclaim at the Museum of Modern Art in 1970, and resulted in a series of LP records compiling the recordings, which were issued by Giorno Poetry Systems. Some of the poets and artists who recorded or collaborated with Giorno Poetry Systems were Burroughs, John Ashbery, Ted Berrigan, Patti Smith, Laurie Anderson, Philip Glass, Robert Rauschenberg and Robert Mapplethorpe. Giorno's text-based poetry evolved rapidly in the late 1960s from direct appropriation of entire texts from newspapers, to montage of radically different types of textual material, to the development of his signature double-

70 column poems, which feature extensive use of repetition both across columns and down the page. This device allowed Giorno to mimic the echoes and distortions he was applying to his voice in performance. A number of these poems were collected in Balling Buddha (1970). The poems also feature increasingly radical political content, and Giorno was involved in a number of protests against the Vietnam war. Spiro Agnew called Giorno and Abbie Hoffman "would be Hanoi Hannahs" after their WPAX radio broadcasts made to the US troops in South Vietnam on Radio Hanoi. Giorno travelled to India in 1971 where he met H.H. Dudjom Rinpoche, head of the Nyingma order of Tibetan Buddhism. He became one of the earliest Western students of Tibetan Buddhism, and has participated in Buddhist communities for several decades, inviting various Tibetan teachers to New York and hosting them. His poetry has reflected Buddhist and other Asian religious themes from the beginning, but the poems in Cancer In My Left Ball (1972) and those that follow involve a highly original interpenetration of Buddhist and Western avant-garde practices and poetics. Touring rock clubs in the 1970s with Burroughs, Giorno continued to develop an amplified, confrontational performance poetry that was highly influential on what became the Poetry Slam scene, as well as the performance art of Karen Finley and Penny Arcade, and the early Industrial music of Throbbing Gristle and Suicide. In 1982 he made the album Who Are You Staring At? with Glenn Branca [5] and is prominently featured in Ron Mann's 1982 film Poetry in Motion. He stopped using found elements in his poetry in the early 1980s and has since pursued a kind of experimental realism, incantatory and repetitive yet at the same time lyrical. Giorno has celebrated queer sexuality from the 1964 "Pornographic Poem", through his psychedelic evocations of gay New York nightlife in the 1970s, to more recent poems such as "Just Say No To Family Values". He founded an AIDS charity, the AIDS Treatment Project in 1984, which continues to give direct financial and other support to individuals with AIDS to the present day. In addition to his collaborations with Burroughs, Giorno has produced 55 LPs, tapes, videos and books. He continues to perform at poetry festivals and events, notably in Europe where he has been an active participant in the sound poetry scene for several decades. Giorno formerly lived at 255 East 74th Street, when a small carriage house was located on the property. [6][7] In 2007 he appeared in Nine Poems in Basilicata, a film directed by Antonello Faretta based on his poems and his performances. In addition to his solo performances in live poetry shows, he has collaborated since 2005 in some music-poetry shows with Spanish rock singer and composer Javier Colis. The first career-spanning collection of Giorno's poems, Subduing Demons in America: Selected Poems , edited by Marcus Boon, was published by Soft Skull in In 2010, Giorno had his first one-person gallery show in New York, entitled Black Paintings and Drawings, at Nicole Klagsbrun Gallery, wherein he exhibited works that chronicled the evolution of the poem painting. The first Poem Prints were part of the Dial-A-Poem installation in the 1970 exhibition Information at the Museum of Modern Art. Connecting words and images, the poet uses the materiality of the written word to confront audiences with poetry in different contexts. In 2011, he starred in one of two versions for the music video to R.E.M.'s final single "We All Go Back to Where We Belong". [8] Biography:

71 Article: Sleep (film) From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia Directed by Andy Warhol Starring John Giorno Release date 1963 Running time 321 minutes Country United States

72 Language English Sleep is a 1963 American film by Andy Warhol consisting of long take footage of John Giorno, his close friend at the time, sleeping for five hours and 20 minutes. [1] The film was one of Warhol's first experiments with filmmaking, and was created as an "anti-film". Warhol would later extend this technique to his eight-hour-long film Empire. [2] Sleep premiered on January 17, 1964, presented by Jonas Mekas at the Gramercy Arts Theater as a fundraiser for Film-makers' Cooperative. Of the nine people who attended the premiere, two left during the first hour. [3] Article: Andy Warhol My 15 Minutes Wednesday 13 February 2002 By Catherine Morrison Our interviews with Warhol s friends and collaborators continue with John Giorno, 65, poet, Aids activist, friend and confidant of Warhol and subject of his film, Sleep. Interviews by Catherine Morrison The first time I met Andy was at his first solo New York Pop show in Eleanor Ward's Stable gallery in the fall of 1962, but it was at a friend's dinner party around that time that we really got to know each other. For the next two years we were very close; we saw each other every day, or every other day. I was a kid in my early 20s, working as a stockbroker. I was living this life where I would see Andy every night, get drunk and go into work with a hangover every morning. The stock market opened at 10 and closed at three. By quarter to three I would be waiting at the door, dying to get home so I could have a nap before I met Andy. I slept all the time - when he called to ask what I was doing he would say, "Let me guess, sleeping?" We used to go to Jonas Mekas's Film-makers' Cooperative in 1962 to watch these underground films. Andy saw them and said, "Why doesn't somebody make a beautiful film?" So he did. On Memorial Day weekend in 1963 we went away for a few days and I woke up in the night to find him staring at me - he took a lot of speed in those days. That's where the idea for the movie came from - he was looking for a visual image and it just happened to be me. He said to me on the way home: "Would you like to be a movie star?" "Of course," I said, "I want to be just like Marilyn Monroe." He didn't really know what he was doing; it was his first movie. We made it with a 16mm Bolex in my apartment but had to reshoot it a month later. The film jumped every 20 seconds as Andy rewound it. The second shoot was more successful but he didn't know what to do with it for almost a year.

73 The news that Warhol had made a movie triggered massive amounts of publicity. It was absurd - he was on the cover of Film Culture and Harper's Bazaar before the movie was finished! In the end, 99% of the footage didn't get used; he just looped together a few shots and it came out six hours long. You either really loved it or you hated it; I thought it was brilliant and daring. But then I loved so much of Andy's work. I remember walking into the first Factory in 63 and seeing the silkscreen silver Elvises for the first time. They were like these jewels, radiating life and joy, and they were just lying on a dirty floor in an old firehouse! It was so exhilarating. He transformed my life. He wasn't afraid of anything - if he had an idea, he acted on it. If it turned out lousy, so what? If it turned out well, then that was great. I didn't see him much after 1964 although in the last year of his life, I saw him a lot, about a dozen times in seven months. I'm so glad now that I did see him and talk to him before he died. Warhol is at Tate Modern, London SE1 ( ), until April 1 Article: John Giorno By rob pruitt Photography Sebastian Kim Published 04/02/13 > If there is a spiritual shrine in New York City devoted to the downtown art and literary worlds of the past halfcentury, it exists in a building below Houston Street on the Bowery, in the three lofts owned by poet, performer, painter, and legend John Giorno. Giorno has lived in the building for almost five decades and divides his life among its floors: one for writing; one for painting; and the third, "the bunker," which originally was home to his longtime friend William S. Burroughs, for, among other life-sustaining acts, dinners and occasional Buddhist prayer ceremonies when Giorno's teachers and friends travel from Asia. It is striking that, for a man who has lived for so long in one place, Giorno's prolific, polymorphous productions are so centered on movement. Whether it's his marathon poems full of insights and incidental reflections and mantra-like phrases that he regularly performs or his

74 word paintings of fragmentary text (JUST SAY NO TO FAMILY VALUES, 2009; A HURRICANE IN A DROP OF CUM, 2009; LIFE IS A KILLER, 2009), his works refuse to stand still. They swirl and build and cultivate in their constant cultural rotation. This is not surprising. At 76, Giorno hasn't only been a New York resident for most of his life, he has also been a key artist and social lightning rod. He moved to the city from his childhood home in Long Island to attend Columbia University in the 1950s and eventually headed downtown. He became embroiled with Andy Warhol during his early experiments with film Giorno is the star of the iconic black-and-white 1963 movie Sleep, in which he appears as a handsome, nude young man sleeping from various vantage points for the film's entire five-hour run. Giorno was also friend (and sometimes lover) of artists Robert Rauschenberg and Jasper Johns, and it was these creative experimenters of post-abstraction and pop (unlike the New York School of poetry, with its absorption of abstract expressionism) that influenced Giorno's poetic trials a "found" style pulled from the streets, enacting the language and politics of the time but also a very revolutionary interest in the means of delivery for poems, using new technologies to bring art to the listener. So began Giorno Poetry Systems, a nonprofit foundation committed to opening unexplored channels. Giorno began developing sound pieces in 1965, through his introduction to William Burroughs and artist and experimental writer Brion Gysin. Giorno famously wrote a poem called "Subway," and it was Gysin who encouraged him to record sounds in the subway, creating a composition out of the environmental audio, and instigating Giorno's career in audio arts. In 1968, Giorno started his ongoing Dial-a-Poem series, where the public could dial a number and hear poems recorded by the likes of John Ashbery, Allen Ginsberg, and Jim Carroll (I personally like to think of it as a beautiful early version of the suicide-prevention hotline). Dial-a-Poem was exhibited in MoMA in 1970 and again last year. Giorno's interest in the frontiers of technology continued through the '70s, '80s, and '90s as Giorno Poetry Systems released more than 50 albums of poetry and music, melding collaborators as diverse as Laurie Anderson, Gregory Corso, Patti Smith, Karen Finley, Hüsker Dü, Anne Waldman, Richard Hell, Philip Glass, and, of course, Burroughs (the catalogs for the records are like zines, with cartoons, short stories, and photographs). In the '80s and '90s, much of the money earned by Giorno Poetry Systems went to Giorno's own community-minded AIDS Treatment Project. In 1998, Giorno met his partner, the Swiss multimedia artist Ugo Rondinone who transitioned Giorno into another era of his career and into the folds of the current visual-art world. Rondinone is also a wordsmith, utilizing fragmentary texts in his series of rainbow light signs (one of which, Hell, Yes!, crowned New York's New Museum, nearby on the Bowery, for three years). Rondinone is currently working on a black-and-white film of Giorno performing his 2006 poem "Thanks for Nothing." The film will be shown as part of a giant retrospective devoted to Giorno's art and life at Paris's Palais de Tokyo in In the meantime, Giorno is exhibiting a number of his text paintings including a show at New York's Nicole Klagsbrun gallery in the fall. Giorno may be one of the busiest, longest-running artists in New York, but in person, he is calm and kind, handsome and open, and it's no wonder so many artists and writers have been drawn to him over the years. One artist, Rob Pruitt, stopped by the building on the Bowery in February, and the two spoke over Assam tea in Giorno's painting room. On the wall was a painting that said this: "Eating the Sky." -CHRISTOPHER BOLLEN ROB PRUITT: You resurrected your piece Dial-a-Poem last year at MoMA. How did that go? JOHN GIORNO: It was a huge success. Dial-a-Poem happened at the Museum of Modern Art in 1970 at the "Information" show. Four phones were installed around the museum, and by dialing a number, you could hear one of 50 poets reading a poem. The idea actually started in 1968 and had a few incarnations before MoMA. I sort of stumbled on it by chance this phenomenon of connecting a telephone with content and publicity. I was talking to someone on the telephone one morning, and it was so boring. I probably had a hangover and was probably crashing, and I got irritable and said to myself at that moment, "Why can't this be a poem?" That's how the idea came to me. And we got a quarter of a page in The New York Times with the telephone number you could dial. A million people called. And last year at MoMA, I reinvented it with new technology. In the old days, in its early incarnation, we had to have 12 telephone lines with 12 poems by 12 poets every day. PRUITT: So every day you would get someone new?

75 GIORNO: Yeah. When people were bored of John Ashbery, they would just hang up and wait for Jim Carroll or Allen Ginsberg or whoever. This was all before the internet, of course. But it was still people being bored at work alone. And all they wanted to do was reach out. PRUITT: What do you think of Twitter? Do you tweet? GIORNO: No, I don't. PRUITT: My studio assistants have set up an account for me, and they try to encourage me every day because they think it's something that I might like. But it's the same as swimming when I was young. It's not something I've taken to naturally. In eight months I've written maybe seven tweets. GIORNO: You mentioned swimming. Ugo [Rondinone] just got into swimming. He belongs to a pool practically right across the street on the Bowery. I said if we lived in a great castle of our own, the pool would be no further away than it is now. But in terms of Twitter, it's not something for me either. I just don't like doing that daily thing. I do love s though. I love how minimal they are. But just because technology is simple doesn't mean it needs to be part of our miraculous lives every day. PRUITT: In the early years of Dial-a-Poem, using the phone in that way must have seemed like a new technology to some degree or at least a very modern application of it. GIORNO: I guess it was in a sense. Even a few years before, in '66, Bob Rauschenberg started this thing called E.A.T., Experiments in Art and Technology, where he got great artists to try to work with engineers. They made some clunkers. There must be a lot of those artistic failures lying about somewhere. The funny thing about Dial-a- Poem was that there was no substance. It worked, but it wasn't an object. In those years, artists were trying to make things, things, things... [laughs] PRUITT: But surely you must have had some poetic failures yourself poems that just didn't work. Do you save them? Or do you work on them until they do work? GIORNO: I work on a poem until it's finished, which is when I perform it. That's when it's fixed. And I perform it for a while if it's good. I keep performing it. If it's not, I let go of it, and I never bother with it again. PRUITT: I'm dying to ask you about Warhol's movie Sleep. When I was a young man, I felt that what that movie really was about, for me, was being able to see your naked ass! I wasn't thinking about all the things film theorists have to say about Sleep. I was just thinking, Here's this image of this beautiful ass. [laughs] Did you feel exposed or did you feel part of it or did you feel more like a prop? How did you feel about being in that movie? GIORNO: About the ass, I was just amazed that it got in the movie. That was a daring move for Andy. He was very aware of this. He knew in this homophobic world that he could not have a gay movie that was the kiss of death. So I'm amazed that the ass got in there. I don't know how it got in there. Andy was basically just thinking of the sleeping head or sleeping body. I stayed out of it, because I'm not a filmmaker, I'm a poet, and I know that it's always best to leave the filmmaker alone and stay out of it. Andy had this Bolex. It was July of 1963, and he shot me for two and a half to three weeks, every other night or so. I drank a lot in those days. We'd go back to my apartment on East 74th Street at like one in the morning and I'd be drunk and take off my clothes. We were close friends. The problem was that there was a jerk every 20 seconds in the footage, because Andy would have to rewind it every 20 seconds. So when he developed it, none of what he initially shot was any good. Then right at the end, we met someone called Bud Wirtshafter, and he said, "Andy, there's a gadget that you plug into the Bolex and into the wall, and it takes care of that jerk by spooling it out in two-minute rolls." [laughs] So then we filmed three or four more times over another 10 days, but the two-minute rolls didn't work either. It took him a long time to figure the process out. He did thousands of rolls from September and October. He even hired people to create storyboards for Sleep but he still couldn't figure out how to make it. It was depressing. But he was getting publicity for making the film, so he finally said, "Why do I have to do it? It's already such a great success."

76 THE INTERESTING THING THAT NOBODY KNOWS IS THAT ANDY WARHOL HAD A BEAUTIFUL BODY... THE CLASSIC BODY, PERFECTLY FORMED, TAUT MUSCLES. John Giorno Article: John Giorno was also a Warhol film subject, but not really a Superstar because he forged a career as a poet in his own right. (Being a satellite to Warhol seems to have been central to Superstar status.) However, Mr. Giorno did star, in a manner of speaking, in Warhol s first film, Sleep, from 1963, in which he performed the activity described in the title. His contribution to the current exhibition pairs a silk-screen of the words Thanx 4 Nothing with a poem, Thanks for Nothing, which he began on his 70th birthday, in The poem refers to some of the figures Mr. Giorno knew in his earlier days, including those whose lives ended tragically.

77 Billy Name Billy Name Nubula, Photograph Photographer: Stephen Shore

78 Artist s Websites: Link to Gallery Page (may be multiple galleries): Biography: Billy Name, photographer at Andy Warhol's Factory, dies aged 76 Briefly Warhol s lover, Name captured the models, musicians and superstars who passed through Warhol s studio, including the Velvet Underground and Nico Billy Name, the in-house photographer at Andy Warhol s studio the Factory in its 60s heyday, has died aged 76. The news was confirmed by the Milk gallery in New York, who mounted an exhibition of Name s pictures in The photographer, who had been in poor health for some time due to recurring illnesses including diabetes, died on Monday. Born William Linich Jr in 1940, Name fled Poughkeepsie to New York s avant garde downtown art scene, where he worked with the likes of LaMonte Young and the Fluxus group, then including Yoko Ono. He met Warhol in 1959 while working a second job as a waiter at the restaurant Serendipity 3 in New York. The pair became lovers, and soon Linich, whom Warhol renamed Billy Name, was working as the pop artist s right-hand man. Name redecorated the former hat factory on East 47th Street by covering the walls in silver spray paint and aluminum foil, turning it into the Factory, Warhol s studio and a magnet for New York s demimonde. While the decor seemed to evoke the speed-fuelled futurism of Warhol s work, last year Name told the Guardian s Sean O Hagan that he had been inspired by the repainting of the Mid-Hudson Bridge in Poughkeepsie when he was a child. Name became the self-described foreman of the Factory, his duties including working as an archivist, secretary, security guard and electrician. Billy was the one Andy counted on, journalist Glenn O Brien wrote in the foreword to the retrospective book Billy Name: The Silver Age.

79 One day, Warhol handed Name a camera and said: Here, Billy, you do the stills photography. Name went on to take thousands of photographs of the comings and going at the Factory, including Warhol s coterie of superstars who starred in his films, including Edie Sedgwick, Candy Darling, Baby Jane Holzer and Joe Dallesandro. He also captured other visitors including Bob Dylan and the Velvet Underground. Name s photographs are included on the sleeves of The Velvet Underground and Nico, their first, Warhol-produced album, and their selftitled third record. He is mentioned in their song That s the Story of My Life. The Factory relocated to Union Square in early 1968, whereupon Name, then addicted to amphetamines, took up residence there in his darkroom, often not emerging for months at a time. He finally left the Factory in 1970 and headed to California, where he became a performance poet. Before long his photographs were recognised both as a record of a hugely significant cultural moment, and as artworks in their own right. Name s death follows that of Holly Woodlawn last December, another pivotal member of Warhol s pantheon of superstars, immortalised in Lou Reed s Walk on the Wild Side. Many others including Nico and Candy Darling died young; Warhol himself died in 1987, while Reed died in October One of the few surviving Factory stalwarts, Dallesandro, paid tribute to Name on Facebook, writing: Billy was the one who made the silver Factory silver, working with Gerard Malanga and was every bit an artist as anyone else at the Factory. Soon all of us will be gone but because of Billy most of the history is recorded on film. May his journey home be peaceful. A statement from Milk gallery said: It is with tremendous sadness that we would like to announce that our dear friend and iconic artist Billy Name has begun his next great adventure. We mourn the loss of this important cultural figure and are thankful to have had the opportunity to work with him. We express our deepest condolences to his family and loved ones. Artist Statement: I didn t consider myself a photographer until much later, when people started appreciating the work, says Billy softly. I wasn t influenced by any other photographer and I hadn t looked at any books or shows. I just took the camera when Andy handed it to me and said, Here, Billy,

80 you do the stills photography. I remember I went to the store the next day and bought the manual for the camera. That s how it began. Resume/Vita: Billy Name William George Linich. Born February 22, 1940 Poughkeepsie, New York, U.S. Died July 18, 2016 (aged 76) Nationality American Known for photographer, filmmaker, lighting designer, archivist William George Linich (February 22, 1940 July 18, 2016), known professionally as Billy Name, was an American photographer, filmmaker, and lighting designer. He was the archivist of the Factory from 1964 to [1][2] His brief romance and subsequent friendship with Andy Warhol led to substantial collaboration on Warhol's work, including his films, paintings, and sculptures. Linich became Billy Name among the clique known as the Warhol Superstars. He was responsible for "silverizing" Warhol's New York studio, the Factory, [3] where he lived until His photographs of the scene at the Factory and of Warhol himself are important documents of the [citation needed] pop art era. In 2001, the United States Postal Service used one of Billy Name's portraits of Warhol when it issued a commemorative stamp of the artist. [4] Name also collaborated with Shepard Fairey with his photograph of Nico, singer with the Velvet Underground and part of the social circle of Warhol's Factory. He photographed the covers for the Velvet Underground's White Light/White Heat and their eponymous third album as well as the photographs in the gatefold sleeve for The Velvet Underground and Nico (in collaboration with fellow Warhol associate Nat Finkelstein). Career in theater The origin of Linich's assumption of his theatrical surname was explained this way: "He acquired his superstar identity. While he was filling in an official form, his pen hovered Name Billy He wrote. He had become Billy Name." [5] Prior to his association with Warhol, Name had worked in theatrical lighting design. Name began his career as a lighting designer in the theater in 1960, while working as a waiter at Serendipity 3, the mid-town dessert establishment. [6] His first apprenticeship was with Nick Cernovich, part of the Black Mountain College contingency in New York in the 1950s, who had won an Obie Award for best lighting. "It was the end of the period of the romantic avant-garde bohemia, when artists kept younger artists and a male artist would always have a young man around." Under the tutelage of Cernovich, he co-designed the lighting for the Spoleto Festival of Two Worlds in Name later designed lighting at Judson Memorial Church, New York Poets Theater and the Living Theater, illuminating the likes of dancers Lucinda Childs, Yvonne Rainer, Merce Cunningham and Fred Herko. Name significantly influenced Warhol's work. As Warhol would later explain: "[He] had a manner that inspired confidence. He gave the impression of being generally creative, he dabbled in lights and papers and artists materials...i picked up a lot from Billy." (Warhol & Hackett,The Warhol Diaries)

81 Name also played music in the group Theatre of Eternal Music under the direction of La Monte Young. [7] Collaboration with Andy Warhol Name had met Warhol fleetingly at Serendipity 3, where he was a waiter, and then later again through Ray Johnson, who brought Name to an event at the Brooklyn Academy of Music. Johnson had attended Black Mountain College in the 1940s and the younger Linich was a fan of that circle's pre-beat, zen way of interacting with the world. Name met Warhol again when the collagist, pre-pop and graphic artist Johnson brought Andy to one of Linich's haircutting parties in his East Village apartment and Warhol saw the place done up in silver foil and paint. According to Stephen Shore's "Factory: Andy Warhol," "Andy and I were hanging around together. I had an apartment on the Lower East Side, where I had haircutting salons. Hundreds of people would come, and I d be cutting someone's hair. Andy came. When he first started making films, he made films about what a person was famous for," Billy, whose real name was William Linich Jr., and was the son of a barber, [5] recalled. "I was famous for giving haircuts, so he said, "Would you let me do a film of you doing haircuts?" [Haircut, 1963] I had covered my entire apartment in silver foil and painted everything silver. Andy said, "Well, I just got a new loft [the Factory]; would you do to it what you ve done to your apartment?" I said, "Oh, sure, let's do it." So, I started doing it. I was a technician I d been a light designer for [Manhattan dance theatre] the Judson Church. I also worked for some off- Broadway theater and avant-garde dance companies. I installed all the lighting at the Factory, all the sound systems." [8] In return for making over his loft, Warhol gave Name a new role within the Factory. "I was into light and sound before, but not photography," Name said. "Andy had a still camera, but he had gotten the Bolex. He was going to start to do films, and he gave me the Pentax and said, "Here, Billy, you do the still photography; I m going to start making films." I became the in-house photographer and was sort of like the foreman. Eventually I moved in." Name and Warhol eventually became lovers. Name was responsible for taking still photographs at the Factory. [9] Indeed, Name lived and worked at the Factory, having taken up residence in a closet at the back of the studio, at 231 East 47th Street. With the gift of Warhol's 35 mm single-lens reflex Honeywell Pentax camera, along with its operating manual, Name taught himself the technical aspects of photography. He converted one of the Factory bathrooms into a darkroom, where he learned to process film. This, combined with his background in lighting and experimental approach to his work, resulted in a [citation needed] body of work which captured the "silver years" at the Factory ( ). Name's close friendship with Warhol - and his role in creating Warhol's artistic environment - provided him with a unique perspective of the Factory, with a particular focus on a core group of "superstars", who largely improvised before the camera. Name's understanding of theater and lighting was an important influence on the look and [citation needed] ambience of the Factory and of Warhol's early films. Review/Article: New York Times Art & Design Billy Name, Who Glazed Warhol s Factory in Silver, Dies at 76 By RANDY KENNEDYJULY 21, 2016

82 Andy Warhol s New York loft on East 47th Street in Midtown Manhattan, called the Silver Factory because every surface was embellished with aluminum foil and silver paint, was to the social life of postwar art what Gertrude Stein s Rue de Fleurus apartment in Paris or the Royal Academy of Art s drawing rooms in London were to previous eras. But the Silver Factory wouldn t have been the hallowed salon it was had Warhol, in 1959, not run into a handsome, brooding waiter named William Linich Jr., a refugee from the middle-class straits of Poughkeepsie, N.Y., who had moved to the city and plunged into its ferment as the Beat years gave way to the counterculture. When Warhol later went to get a haircut at Mr. Linich s apartment, he was so wowed by its obsessive reflective décor ( I even painted the silverware silver, Mr. Linich once recalled) that he invited Mr. Linich uptown to decorate the loft the same way an act that came to symbolize an entire Pop worldview that Warhol would invent. In the book Popism: The Warhol Sixties by Warhol and Pat Hackett, Warhol wrote of the man who later rechristened himself Billy Name, Why he loved silver so much I don t know. But it was great. It was the perfect time to think silver. It was the future, he said, the space age, and also the past, the silver screen and old Hollywood. Maybe more than anything, he added, silver was narcissism mirrors were backed with silver. Billy Name, who became Warhol s lover, muse and court photographer, leaving behind a monumental visual record of the 1960s art world in and around the Silver Factory, died in Poughkeepsie on Monday at 76. His agent and executor, Dagon James, said the cause was heart failure. After leaving Warhol s orbit in 1970, Mr. Name spent a decade in San Francisco before moving back to Poughkeepsie. His photographs he took thousands, in a moody, high-contrast black and white did more than just capture Warhol s retinue, his superstars : Edie Sedgwick, Brigid Berlin, Gerard Malanga, Mario Montez, Mary Woronov, Ondine, and Bibbe Hansen. They also documented the larger scene around the Factory, including fellow artists like Ray Johnson, Jasper Johns and John Cage; the members of the Velvet Underground; the filmmaker Barbara Rubin; and admirers like Bob Dylan and Salvador Dalí. It s odd when the past looks so much like the future, the editor Glenn O Brien, a Factory denizen, wrote about the images in Billy Name: The Silver Age, a collection of Mr. Name s work published in Warhol, he added, never looked better than he did in these silver pictures, surrounded by all the beauties shining like a full moon in their reflected light. I don t suppose the night ever looked better than it did right then. William Linich Jr. was born in Poughkeepsie on Feb. 22, 1940, the son of Carleton Linich, a barber, and the former Mary Gusmano. He moved to Manhattan in 1958 and, besides waiting tables and cutting hair, worked as a lighting designer for the Judson Dance Theater and other theater spaces.

83 Information about survivors was not immediately available. Mr. Name was estranged from his family. The Factory, whose name he helped invent, became his workplace and spartan home not long after Warhol gave him a 35-millimeter Pentax camera. He refashioned a bathroom into a darkroom and bunked near it, with hangers for his few clothes, a turntable and a collection of opera records. Introverted and practical, he was in many ways Warhol s alter ego, and he served as the Factory s unofficial foreman and manager. He was quiet, things were always very proper with him, and you felt like you could trust him to keep everything in line, including all his strange friends, Warhol wrote, adding: If Billy said, Can I help you? in a certain way, people would start to actually back out. He was a perfect custodian, literally. But Mr. Name s stability was always fragile. Under the strain of amphetamines and other drugs, it began to shatter not long after Warhol was shot in 1968 by the radical writer Valerie Solanas, in a new Factory iteration on Union Square. Mr. Name spent months afterward in hermetic solitude, rarely emerging from his room during the daytime. In 1970 he moved out of the Factory for good, leaving a note that said only: Andy I am not here anymore but I am fine. But he wasn t fine. The poet Diane di Prima, with whom he stayed in Los Angeles after leaving New York, said: He was completely out of his mind. He read the same page of the same book for several months: Page 37 of Esoteric Astrology by Alice Bailey. He would see things in the air and he would catch them. This went on for months and months. In San Francisco he spent most of his time studying Buddhism and writing concrete poetry. He never reaped any financial rewards from his days at the Factory. A large archive of his 1960s negatives disappeared several years ago and has still not been recovered. He said that Warhol gave him paintings, including a triptych of silkscreened images of Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis, works that probably would have come to be worth tens of millions of dollars. When Mr. Name left New York, he gave his things to the curator Henry Geldzahler for safekeeping; Mr. Geldzahler later told him that the Warhol superstar Paul America, in need of money for drugs, broke into his apartment and stole the paintings. But Mr. Name, who seemed to live on a slightly different plane than those around him, never cared much about worldly possessions. We all loved Billy, John Cale, a founder of the Velvet Underground, once wrote. We all missed him those times he d retreat but said little, thinking he was due the deference to work out whatever demons were invading his head.

84 Review/Article: He Shot Andy Warhol s Factory: Billy Name, Photographer of Edie and the Velvets, Dies at 76 July 19, :01 pm by Rebecca Bengal The last year Billy Name lived at Andy Warhol s Factory, he was a ghost. Operations had moved from the 47th Street studio, the space whose linings he d made silver, spray-painting its walls and covering them in aluminum foil, to Union Square, and sometime in 1968, Name retreated to his darkroom there, commencing a hermetic, third-shift existence. The others tracked his moves. He emerged only at night, and when everyone was gone, wrote Pat Hackett in The Andy Warhol Diaries. Empty takeout food containers in the trash can the next day were the only signs he was alive and eating. This went on for a while. One morning the door to the darkroom was left flung open, and Billy had vanished. He d left a note: Dear Andy, I am not here any more, but I am fine. With love, Billy. And he was. Sort of. By the time he came to Warhol s life, Name, né William Linich, Jr., who died yesterday at the age of 76, had already lived several lives and his darkroom exit cast the light to the next. Born in 1940 in Poughkeepsie, he landed in the arms of avant-garde New York City, with La Monte Young and Ray Johnson and the Fluxus group, alongside a young artist named Yoko Ono. He worked as a lighting designer for the Judson Dance Theater, moonlighted as a hairdresser and as a waiter, met Warhol while working at Serendipity 3, the fancy dessert restaurant in the East 60s where both Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy were customers and where Warhol was a regular. Andy became his boyfriend, and later, took him in. The multitasking amphetamine world of the Factory also meant that Billy

85 Name was Andy s secretary, security guard, silk screen assistant, archivist, electrician, his Man Friday, the de-facto super. Somewhere along the way, Andy either intuited or decided that Billy should become the resident photographer: One day in 1963, the story goes, he put a Honeywell Pentax camera in Name s hand. Though others also documented those years, (including, for a time, a young and precocious Stephen Shore), Name lived them too. He dragged in a couch off the street, which served as a bed for overnight crashers and a well-known prop in Warhol s screen tests and films like Blow Job and, in its own starring role, Couch. Before he retreated entirely from the workings of the Factory, Name photographed the life of it, documenting its strange ways and its beautiful visitors: the hustlers and the models, the artists and the rock stars. Andy himself, against that silver backdrop with his Brillo pads. Edie Sedgwick. Bob Dylan, posing for his screen test, before he left the Factory with a Warhol Elvis painting under one arm. The Velvet Underground & Nico his pictures of them appear inside the gatefold of the band s selftitled album affixed with Warhol s banana, and on the cover of White Light/White Heat. Even his photographs of emerging icons would one day become actual icons: His photograph of Warhol was used on a United States postage stamp. Name had run out of his darkroom when he heard Valerie Solanas s gunshots, and discovered Warhol lying in a pool of blood and held him in his arms Andy, still in shock, told Billy not to make him laugh because it would make his stomach hurt. If there were an end-of-the-sixties moment for Name, that was it: In the months after, traumatized, he retreated to his darkroom, obsessing over his negatives. Long after he left, Billy stayed in touch. His next life followed a bohemian trajectory heading west and south to New Orleans, where he wrote poetry, and eventually to California. He grew a beard, he gained weight, he saw the sun. In later life, he came to physically resemble a kind amalgam of John Fahey and Edward Abbey heart of a teddy bear, soul of a warrior, John Cale wrote in a tweet last night. His pictures, many of which were briefly feared lost, saw large exhibits in recent years at Milk Gallery. Above all they have preserved an elusive and ephemeral world, one that prioritized the making of art and was fueled by

86 speed, yes, but more so by oddity and creativity. For all of us who came after, they formed a picture of the underground; they shaped an idea of dark New York City cool. Billy s photos were the only thing that came close to capturing the feel of the 1960s Silver Factory, Warhol said. He kept up with Billy from even years later when Name returned to live again in his native Poughkeepsie. Got home and the phone rang at 12:00 a.m. and it was Billy Name. Have I forgotten to say he s been calling? Warhol wrote in his Diaries in He has like three jobs up there, deputy sheriff and everything and he was just chattering away, You know how deeply I love you, honey. Name is part of the narrative Cale and Lou Reed wrote into their 1990 tribute album to Warhol, Songs for Drella. And, as news of his death arrived last night, amid the last turbulent weeks and the start of the RNC, it was both a relief to recall the disappeared world of his photographs and the song Reed wrote about him years ago, for the Velvets third album: That s the story of my life / That s the difference / Between wrong and right / But Billy said /Both those words are dead / That s the story of my life. Review/Article: Magic Touch The Last Days of Billy Name: The Man Who Turned Andy Warhol s Factory Silver Billy Name held Andy Warhol in his arms after Warhol was shot by Valerie Solanas. Why did Name, who died recently, flee the Factory s intrigues for the quiet life? Billy Name, who died aged 76 on July 18, was William Linich when he met Andy Warhol in the late 50s.

87 It was at Serendipity 3, a seething spot in the East 60s where regulars included such future Warhol-stars as Marilyn Monroe and Jackie Kennedy, but Warhol was still a highly successful commercial artist and Linich, a lighting designer and performer of 20 or so, was a waiter. Robert Heide, the playwright and collector of Mickey Mouse memorabilia, who appears in a couple of Warhol movies, remembers him well. I met him at the San Remo Café on Bleecker, he says, referring to what was one of the totemic art bars in what was still part of Little Italy. Jack Kerouac, Edward Albee, Allen Ginsberg, [the actress] Judith Malina and [her husband] Julian Beck might all be there. He was incredibly good-looking and he had an aura I would compare to Edie Sedgwick, Andy was very smitten. Warhol and Linich had a fling but it was short-lived. Linich had been a relatively recent arrival from upstate, the son of a Poughkeepsie barber. He was living in Greenwich Village, fully immersed in the intense downtown bohemia of the period, performing with the Judson Memorial Dance Theater, which operated out of the church on Washington Square, and with the minimalist composer, La Monte Young. Also, Linich was getting known for an appropriately Fluxus-era enterprise, his Haircut Parties, where you could actually get a haircut so known indeed that the artist Ray Johnson brought Warhol to one. Warhol was enormously impressed to find the apartment swathed in silver foil, with its accoutrements silver-painted, so much so that he asked Linich to come and make over his new space, a fifth floor loft at 231 East 47th Street. This Linich duly did. Thus the first Factory became the Silver Factory. And Linich fixed the electricity too, because by his own later account there hadn t been any and Warhol had been working in natural light beside a window. He also moved into a cubicle there, which has usually been described as crashing, but Linich s own believable account is that he felt that he was needed.

88 Tim Hunt, formerly an agent for prints and photographs at the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, agrees. He was Andy s favorite at the Factory, Hunt says. He was a steadying force, the gatekeeper, and Andy really valued him for that. Oh, yes, and he acquired his superstar identity. While he was filling in an official form, his pen hovered Name Billy He wrote. He had become Billy Name. He also found a role. In the early 60s Warhol was increasingly focused on becoming a moviemaker, so handed his Honeywell Pentax 35 mm over to Billy and told him he was now the house photographer. Name procured the manual, studied it, turned one of the bathrooms into a darkroom and became a remarkable documentarian of the amphetamine-laced tragi-comedians that flowed through the Silver Factory. Warhol shot 21 films in 1963 and Billy Name was in three of them: Haircut I, 2 and 3. He also appeared in The Nude Restaurant, along with the Warhol superstars Viva and Taylor Mead. By the time this was released on November 1967 the Factory had moved to a new space on Union Square. On June 3, 1968, Billy Name was in his cubicle when he heard odd popping sounds. He walked out to see Warhol lying puddled in blood. He rushed to him, gathered him into his arms and began weeping. He later reported that Warhol said Oh Billy, don t make me laugh, it hurts too much. Valerie Solanas, the shooter, author of the SCUM Manifesto for The Society for Cutting Up Men had failed to kill Warhol but had effected huge changes. Obviously I shall avoid unstable people, Warhol later wrote in Popism], but he fretted that without the crazy, druggy people around jabbering away and doing their insane things I would lose my creativity. But the 60s Factory was a goner. Billy Fame complained about what he called the new Cardboard Andy and the more businesslike culture. Then suddenly he was gone, leaving only a note pinned to his door. It read: Dear Andy, I am not here anymore, but I am fine really. With Love, Billy.

89 His departure was not brushed off. He was a very special person, says Vincent Fremont, former manager of Warhol s studio and a co-founder of the Warhol Foundation. He says that Warhol had asked him to pack all Name s leavings into a chest. There were so many books I put into that silver chest. Astrology books, God knows what. We never opened it again. After Andy died we gave it to Billy. Some of its contents are now on loan to the Andy Warhol Museum. And Billy Name? Not long before his death he gave Dagon James, who edited Billy Name: The Silver Age, some details of his departure from the Factory. It had been night when he walked out, but he had been in a dark closet for so long that the street lamp he looked up at looked like sunlight to him. He stayed for a week with an ambassador he knew, then fell in with some people he didn t know, and went down to Georgia with them and picked fruit for a week. He then went on to New Orleans, then to California and stayed for a while with the poet Diane Prima in Topanga Canyon, where he hung out with a group of Californian artists and writers, like George Herms and Wallace Berman. He then settled for a year in San Francisco, studying Buddhism and taking no photographs. And in the 1980s he headed back to his hometown, Poughkeepsie. Billy Name became pretty well-known there and in such neighboring towns as Woodstock. I never saw his eyes, says the artist, Paul McMahon. He always wore wraparound sunglasses. John Adams, a Poughkeepsie based artist, met him at the Mid-Hudson Arts and Science Center and became his closest friend. We would go to art shows and poetry readings, Adams says. Nothing was too small. Sometimes we would just drive until we saw something that interested us. Name s own working days were behind him, but he would sometimes do readings. He is never known to have taken more photographs. His connection with Adams strengthened after Adams

90 and his wife separated. Sometimes we would go to New York and stay in the Gershwin Hotel, Adams says. And occasionally they would run into characters from Name s past, like Wayne aka Jayne County. The painter reunited with his wife, but his friendship with Name continued. The first Warhol generation, alumni of the Silver Factory, such as Taylor Mead and Ultra Violet, became very liable to lay into Warhol, both before and after his death. Paul Morrissey indeed insisted to me that there was no such thing as a Factory, that it was a media invention. But not Billy Name, his barbs at the later Cardboard Andy aside. All the others from the 60s group would beat up on Andy a bit, says Hunt. Or magnify their roles. Billy was always gracious. He would never talk about his contribution. He would say he was privileged to have been around a genius. Fremont says, Billy never attacked Andy. He and Brigid Berlin were the only ones. Billy Fame would also occasionally attend various Warhol-related events, such as the 20th anniversary of the Warhol Museum. In October 2014 there was a show at Milk Studios in West Chelsea of photographs from Billy Name: The Silver Age. We spoke. He was larger than life, apparently hale. But not. It was widely known that Billy Name had been increasingly ill for several years, but nobody seems to know anything more precise. Years of amphetamine addiction might have played a part, but there are also rumors of a bad fall, and he is said to have had several small recent strokes. Shiv Mirabito was well aware of this. Mirabito, a Woodstock-based publisher, had been originally introduced to Name in 1900 by Allen Midgette, a denizen of the Silver Factory who Warhol had sent out to impersonate him on a notorious 1967 college tour.

91 Recently Mirabito made an edition of prints of photographs Name had taken of Midgette that same year, and which Warhol had stamped with his own name. Mirabito had asked Midgette to sign them and asked Name to sign a few too. Which he did. Mirabito wrote me: Soon he wasn t feeling well and pronounced that he was going home a few days later he was gone. There s an irony here. Billy Name had had it with Poughkeepsie, where he was in an assisted living facility. He wanted to go back to San Francisco. I was in the process of moving him out, Dagon James says. So what now? Well, one horror of Billy Fame s last years was the disappearance of a trusted agent, Kevin Kushel, to Hawaii with the bulk of his negatives. James, who is the designated heir to Billy Name s estate, is currently building a website to display Name s photography. He believes that he has managed to reconstitute about 30 per cent of his work. As for the rest, he believes these negatives exist. So the remarkable story of Billy Fame is very far from over.

92 Patti Smith (left) (right) Artist s Website: Links to Gallery Pages:

93 Biography: Synopsis Born on December 30, 1946, in Chicago, Illinois, Patti Smith is a singer, writer and artist who became a highly influential figure in the New York City punk rock scene. After working on a factory assembly line, she began performing spoken word and later formed the Patti Smith Group ( ). Her most famous album is Horses. Her relationship with Fred "Sonic" Smith caused a hiatus in her singing career, but she returned to music after his untimely death. She went on to release more than 10 albums. Early Life Singer, songwriter and poet Patricia Lee Smith was born on December 30, 1946, in Chicago, Illinois. She was the eldest of four children born to Beverly Smith, a jazz singer turned waitress, and Grant Smith, a machinist at a Honeywell plant. After spending the first four years of her life on the south side of Chicago, Smith's family moved to Philadelphia in 1950 and then to Woodbury, New Jersey, in 1956, when she was 9 years old. A tall, gangly and sickly child with a lazy left eye, Smith's outward appearance and shy demeanor gave no hint of the groundbreaking rock star she would become. However, Smith says she always knew that she was destined for greatness. "When I was a little kid, I always knew that I had some special kind of thing inside me," she remembered. "I mean, I wasn't attractive, I wasn't very verbal, I wasn't very smart in school. I wasn't anything that showed the world I was something special, but I had this tremendous hope all the time. I had this tremendous spirit that kept me going... I was a happy child, because I had this feeling that I was going to go beyond my body physical... I just knew it." Art and Musical Inspirations As a child, Smith also experienced gender confusion. Described as a tomboy, she shunned "girly" activities and instead preferred roughhousing with her predominantly male friends. Her tall, lean and somewhat masculine body defied the images of femininity she saw around her. It was not until a high school art teacher showed her depictions of women by some of the world's great artists that she came to terms with her own body. "Art totally freed me," Smith recalled. "I found Modigliani, I discovered Picasso's blue period, and I thought, 'Look at this, these are great masters, and the women are all built like I am.' I started ripping pictures out of the books and taking them home to pose in front of the mirror." Smith attended Deptford High School, a racially integrated high school, where she recalls both befriending and dating her black classmates. While in high school, Smith also developed an intense interest in music and performance. She fell in love with the music of John Coltrane, Little Richardand the Rolling Stones and performed in many of the school's plays and musicals. Upon graduating from high school in 1964, Smith took a job working at a toy factory a short-lived but terrible experience that Smith described in her first single, "Piss Factory." Later that fall, she enrolled at Glassboro State College now known as Rowan University with the intention of becoming a high school art teacher, but she didn't

94 fare well academically and her insistence on discarding traditional curricula to focus exclusively on experimental and obscure artists did not sit well with school administrators. So in 1967, with vague aspirations of becoming an artist, Smith moved to New York City and took a job working at a Manhattan bookstore. Lyrical Expression Smith took up with a young artist named Robert Mapplethorpe, and although their romantic involvement ended when he discovered his homosexuality, Smith and Mapplethorpe maintained a close friendship and artistic partnership for many years to come. Choosing performance poetry as her favored artistic medium, Smith gave her first public reading on February 10, 1971, at St. Mark's Church in the Bowery. The now legendary reading, with guitar accompaniment from Lenny Kaye, introduced Smith as an up-and-coming figure in the New York arts circle. Later the same year, she further raised her profile by co-authoring and co-starring with Sam Shepard in his semiautobiographical play Cowboy Mouth. Over the next several years, Smith dedicated herself to writing. In 1972, she published her first book of poetry, Seventh Heaven, earning flattering reviews but selling few copies. Two further collections, Early Morning Dream (1972) and Witt (1973), received similarly high praise. At the same time, Smith also wrote music journalism for magazines such as Creem and Rolling Stone. The Birth of Punk Rock Smith, who had experimented earlier with setting her poetry to music, began to more fully explore rock 'n' roll as an outlet for her lyric poetry. In 1974, she formed a band and recorded the single "Piss Factory," now widely considered the first true "punk" song, which garnered her a sizable and fanatical grassroots following. The next year, after Bob Dylan leant her mainstream credibility by attending one of her concerts, Smith landed a record deal with Arista Records. Smith's 1975 debut album, Horses, featuring the iconic singles "Gloria" and "Land of a Thousand Dances," was a huge commercial and critical success for its manic energy, heartfelt lyrics and skillful wordplay. The definitive early punk rock album, Horses is a near-ubiquitous inclusion on lists of the best albums of all time. Commercial Success Re-billing her act as the Patti Smith Group to give due credit to her band Lenny Kaye (guitar), Ivan Kral (bass), Jay Dee Daugherty (drums) and Richard Sohl (piano) Smith released her second album, Radio Ethiopia, in The Patti Smith Group then achieved a commercial breakthrough with its third album, Easter (1978), propelled by the hit single "Because the Night," co-written by Smith and Bruce Springsteen. Seclusion and Domestic Life Smith's fourth album, 1979's Wave, received only lukewarm reviews and modest sales. By the time she released Wave, Smith had fallen deeply in love with MC5 guitarist Fred "Sonic" Smith, and the pair married in For the next 17 years, Smith largely disappeared from the public scene, devoting herself to domestic life and

95 raising the couple's two children. She released only one album during this time, 1988's Dream of Life, a collaboration with her husband. The album was a commercial disappointment despite including one of Smith's most iconic singles, "People Have the Power." Comeback and Legacy When Fred "Sonic" Smith died of a heart attack in 1994 the last in a series of many close friends and collaborators of Smith's who passed away in quick succession it finally provided Patti Smith the impetus to revive her music career. She achieved a triumphant return with her 1996 comeback album Gone Again, featuring the singles "Summer Cannibals" and "Wicked Messenger." Since then, Smith has remained a prominent fixture of the rock music scene with her albums Peace and Noise (1997), Gung Ho (2000) and Trampin'(2004), all of which were highly praised by music critics, proving Smith's ability to reshape her music to speak to a new generation of rock fans. Her 2007 album Twelve featured Smith's take on a dozen rock classics, including "Gimme Shelter," "Changing of the Guards" and "Smells Like Teen Spirit." Smith followed with the critically acclaimed Banga (2012), proving that after 35 years of music and 11 albums, she is ever evolving. One of the pioneers of punk rock music, a trailblazer who redefined the role of female rock stars, a poet who unleashed her lyrical talent over powerful guitars, Patti Smith stands out as one of the greatest figures in the history of rock 'n' roll. After four decades, Smith finds her continued motivation to write and make music in the unfairly shortened lives of her loved ones and the needs of her children. "The people I lost all believed in me and my children needed me, so that's a lot of reasons to continue, let alone that life is great," she says. "It's difficult but it's great and every day some new, wonderful thing is revealed. Whether it's a new book, or the sky is beautiful, or another full moon, or you meet a new friend life is interesting." Award-Winning 'Just Kids' and 'M Train' In 2010, Patti Smith published her acclaimed memoir Just Kids, which gives readers a personal glimpse into her prototypical "starving artist" youth and her close relationship with Mapplethorpe during the late 1960s and '70s in New York City. The work became a New York Times bestseller and received a National Book Award. In 2015, Showtime Networks announced it would be developing a limited series based on Kids. Smith also released another book that year, M Train, a memoir that blends philosophies around art and connection with world travel. Artist Statement: every time I ve seen art that I ve responded to, what I m responding to is that moment of creative impulse and that s something Steven and I have always worked with. The moment of creative impulse is what an artist gives you. You look at a Pollock, and it can t give you the tools to do a painting like that yourself, but in doing the work, Pollock shares with you the moment of creative impulse that drove him to do that work. And that continuous exchange whether it s with a rock and roll song where you re communing with Bo Diddley or Little Richard, or it s with a painting, where you re communing with Rembrandt or Pollock is a great thing.

96 Resume/Vita: Discography: Studio albums Horses (1975) Radio Ethiopia (1976) Easter (1978) Wave (1979) Dream of Life (1988) Gone Again (1996) Peace and Noise (1997) Gung Ho (2000) Trampin' (2004) Twelve (2007) Bibliography Banga (2012) Seventh Heaven (1972) Early Morning Dream (1972) A Useless Death (1972) Witt (1973) The Night (1976) poems with Tom Verlaine Ha! Ha! Houdini! (1977) Babel (1978) Woolgathering (1992) Early Work (1994) The Coral Sea (1996) Patti Smith Complete (1998) Strange Messenger (2003) Auguries of Innocence (2005) Poems (Vintage Classics) by William Blake. Edited by and with introduction by Patti Smith (2007) Land 250 (2008) Trois (2008) Great Lyricists foreword Rick Moody (2008) Just Kids (2010) Hecatomb (2014) With 20 Drawings by Jose Antonio Suarez Londono M Train (2015) [93] Article:

97 Patti Smith s Summer of Rebellion July 4, 2015 by John Nichols Raise your arms! Feel your freedom! Patti Smith Frankfurt Patti Smith has electrified Europe over the past several weeks with a series of concerts that have been as politically bold as they have been musically rich. Touring to mark the 40th anniversary of her first album, Horses, the American rocker s performances are anything but a nostalgia trip. At 68, Smith remains a vital and provocative artist with a radical message for the 21st century: We are all being f ed by corporations, by the military! We are free people, and we want the world and we want it now! This is protest music. But it is protest with a fierce edge that seamlessly weaves a new politics into a rich legacy of rock-and-roll rebellion. Smith is not preaching to the converted, nor is she mouthing talking points. She s doing something altogether different, and altogether more important: She is celebrating a connection between music and movements that is swaggering and confident and more than ready to declare as Smith does that we re gonna change the f ing world! Her confidence is understandable, as the resurgent European left has embraced her song People Have the Power, with the Greek anti-austerity party Syriza making it a staple of campaign rallies. Smith hails Greece as the heart of democracy. Smith s tour this summer of major European cities and festivals has been particularly topical and pointed in its politics. Shouting out for the planet and a new wave of activism against climate change, decrying economic injustice and empire, ripping the surveillance state and cheering on all our friends in WikiLeaks, Smith s shows are being hailed as something more than rock concerts. After she delivered what reviewers referred to as the set of the weekend at Britain s Glastonbury Festival, The Guardian s headline declared that the New York punk queen provides a masterclass in focused protest rock that puts younger artists to shame. The Glastonbury show was remarkable on multiple levels. A longtime supporter of the Tibetan struggle, Smith made news by welcoming His Holiness the Dalai Lama to the stage on a day when the Tibetan spiritual leader was hailing Pope Francis for issuing an encyclical on the climate change and the environment with a declaration that religious leaders must speak out about current affairs which affect the future of mankind. Smith has always been one to speak out. She has written songs cheering on WTO protesters and opposing wars, she has spoken up for Ralph Nader and other candidates, and she has appeared as myriad events for causes ranging from artistic freedom to media reform. Through it all, Smith has championed a street-level activism that seems ideally suited to this new age of antiausterity movements and urgent environmentalism. She said it a quarter-century ago with People Have the Power. And she is saying it now, as she urges crowds numbering in the tens of thousands to Raise your arms! Feel who you are without technology, without governments. Feel your freedom!

98 Article: Patti Smith Salutes Andy Warhol at the Metropolitan Museum of Art Singer covers the Velvet Underground, the Rolling Stones, Dylan and more in tribute to pop artist By David Chiu September 29, 2012 Andy Warhol has figured prominently in Patti Smith s life, particularly through her friendship with another artist, the late Robert Mapplethorpe. In her 2010 book Just Kids, Smith recalled how much Warhol was an inspiration to Mapplethorpe back in the late Sixties. "It was as close to hero worship as [Robert] ever got," she wrote. "He respected artists like Cocteau and Pasolini... but for Robert, the most interesting of them was Andy Warhol, documenting the human mise-en-scene in his silver-lined Factory." More than 40 years later, Smith paid tribute to Warhol during a concert Friday night at New York s Metropolitan Museum of Art, which is currently presenting the exhibit Regarding Warhol: Sixty Artists, Fifty Years. Accompanied by guitarist Lenny Kaye, organist and percussionist Eric Hoegemeyer and pianist (and Smith s daughter) Jesse Paris Smith, the singer performed some of her famous compositions as well as cover songs that have a connection with Warhol and his crew from the Factory era. Smith opened the show at the Met's Grace Rainey Rogers Auditorium with a soulful rendition of the classic "Pale Blue Eyes" by the Velvet Underground, whose 1967 debut album, The Velvet Underground and Nico, was produced by Warhol; that was followed by a performance of the Rolling Stones "Factory Girl." She also sang Jackson Browne s "These Days," which was performed by Nico, the German singer who also appeared on the Velvet Underground s first record. After reading a poem she wrote in the early Seventies about the late Warhol associate Edie Sedgwick, Smith delivered a take on Bob Dylan s "Like a Rolling Stone," which is rumored to be an allusion to Sedgwick. In between the cover tunes and her spoken-word readings, Smith also performed songs from her own career among them "Ghost Dance," "Pissing in a River," "Because the Night" and "This is the Girl" from her latest album, Banga. She also delivered a dramatic and fiery reading of "Piss Factory" and read an excerpt from Just Kids about Jackie Curtis and Candy Darling at Max s Kansas City, the famed Manhattan venue where Warhol and his associates convened in the backroom. While the set paid homage to the memory of Warhol who died 25 years ago through words and song, it wasn t a solemn affair. Smith displayed her self-deprecating sense of humor throughout the show, and joked about her discomfort with some of David Bowie's lyrics while covering "Andy Warhol," off the 1971 album Hunky Dory. She then brought it back to her own material to close out the set with "People Have the Power" and a fervent "Gloria." Although Smith wrote in Just Kids that she "didn t feel for Warhol the way Robert did" back then, she acknowledged Warhol s brilliance during the concert. "I so deeply appreciate his vision," Smith said. "He gave us such a great body of work and we re all grateful for that."

99 Set List: "Pale Blue Eyes" (Velvet Underground), "This is the Girl", "Factory Girl" (Rolling Stones), "Ghost Dance", "These Days" (Jackson Browne), "Pissing in a River", "Like a Rolling Stone" (Bob Dylan), "Because the Night" Encore: "Andy Warhol" (David Bowie), "People Have the Power", "Gloria" Vimeo: Patti Smith: I really appreciate Andy Warhol from Louisiana ChannelPRO4 years ago When 9/11 happened Patti Smith discovered how much she missed Andy Warhol, the one artist who would have known how to respond. In this video Patti Smith says that she really misses an artist who could reflect and animate what had happened on September 11, and Andy Warhol could have done it. She writes in her memoir "Just Kids" about Andy Warhol that she "felt little for the can and didn't like the soup". When she was young she didn't have any affection for Andy Warhol. But she learned how to appreciate Andy Warhol's genius. Often when she goes to a contemporary art museum and sees a work that is good, she discovers that it is a work done by Andy Warhol. Interview by Christian Lund, at the Louisiana Literature festival August at the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art.

100 Path Soong /people/978/ /madame-cks. jpg

101 Links to Gallery Pages: Biography: Path Soong Biography Painter Path Soong is known for her large works in black and white, which have a meditative quality. The American painter is in various museum and private collections. Soong's exhibitions take place sparingly which is the way she chooses. Each painting and print can take months for the artist to work and develop. Her first solo show, in Soho's June Kelly Gallery in 1996, met with critical and viewer acclaim the notices were extremely laudatory and sales were significant. This unusual pattern has continued. Critics ranging from Robert C. Morgan to Carter Ratcliff, Barbara MacAdam, and others, speak of Soong's sense of 'dialogue with the viewer' and her 'conceptual marks' address movement in nature from night skies to what appear to be mysterious yet familiar spirits. The lithograph, "Hillside Meditation" was created in 2008 and accompanies an original CD recording by the artist, a zen-like poem of the same name. In 2005, Soong was asked to create 25 small paintings which were shown all throughout the House as well as Studio of Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner in East Hampton, NY. These works were done on small pieces of plexiglas with a combination of white oil combined with small white stones hand ground by the artist from stones she found on the Pollock Krasner grounds. Some of the works were installed in the House and Studio windows, creating a startling and ever changing acknowledgement of the two painters of nature. In 2002, Soong moved from Manhattan to her present location in upstate New York. Resume/Vita: Timeline Born in Republic of Korea Parsons School of Design, New York, NY Known for her cutting-edge large canvases in black and white, Ms. Soong has been the subject of articles by critics such as Carter Ratcliff, Robert C. Morgan, Anne Landi, etc. Lives and works in New York City Exhibitions

102 2006 Solo Show - Red Box, Milan, Italy Solo Show - Neuhoff Gallery, New York, NY, USA 2004 "Traced Shadow" - Sena Gallery, Hudson, NY, USA 2002 "The Gesture" - Neuhoff Gallery, New York, NY, USA 2001 Barbara Greene Fine Art, New York, NY 2000 Cantos, Barbara Greene Fine Art, New York, NY 1999 Immediacies of the Hand: Recent Abstract Painting in New York, Curated by Carter Ratcliff & Kim Sobel, Times Square Gallery / Hunter College, New York, NY 1998 Chaos Series, Hugo de Pagano Gallery, New York, NY 1997 Solo exhibition, Curated by Hugo de Pagano, Museo de Ciudad, Madrid, Spain 1997 Diversity, Curated by Robert C. Morgan, Hugo de Pagano Gallery, New York, NY 1996 Reverberation, June Kelly Gallery, New York, NY Literature "The Gesture" feature review, ARTnews Magazine, Jan "Path Soong's Northern Lights" feature article, NY Arts Magazine, Oct "Path Soong" feature review, ARTnews Magazine, Dec "Chaos Series" feature article, Cover Magazine, Vol. 12, 1998 "Reverberation" feature review, ARTnews Magazine, Jan "Path Soong" feature profile, NYArts Magazine, Oct "Reverberation" feature review, Review Magazine, Sept "Reverberation" feature review, Cover Magazine, Sept "Path Soong: Chaos Defined" feature article, Asian Art News, Sept "The Power Gesture" feature review, artnet.com

103 Article: The Pollock-Krasner House has mounted many exhibitions indirectly related (or unrelated) to the painters who once lived in the modest farmhouse, Pollock and his wife, Lee Krasner. But this one seems particularly incongruous. The show s organizers, Ms. Soong and her husband, Jeff Gordon, tried to make some connections, noting in a gallery handout that both Pollock and Warhol came from working-class backgrounds, grew up outside mainstream art centers, and emerged seemingly from nowhere to take the New York art world by storm. The handout also pointed out that both spent time on the East End of Long Island: Pollock in Springs, a hamlet in the Town of East Hampton; Warhol in Montauk. This exhibition juxtaposes each artist s 12 x 12 inch (album sized) visual image with an audio work created in homage to Warhol. For instance, Patti Smith s poem, Edie, muses on the life and death of Warhol Superstar Edie Sedgwick. Nat Finkelstein s screen printed photograph shows Warhol and Dylan in the Factory with one of Warhol s Elvis paintings in the background. In his song, When I Paint My Masterpiece, Dylan critiques the Warholian notion of fame and success. Gordon s screen print modifies one of Warhol s Brillo Box sculptures as a visual analogy to his sound piece, which loops excerpts from a Warhol interview and lasts for the proverbial 15 minutes. Article: Then comes Path Soong's seven minute 'Titles,' a track that, sorry, but just rambles on detailing all the titles of Andy Warhol works of art. Painter Soong is known for her large works in black and white, which have a meditative quality, but here, well, for my money, there's just no call for seven minutes to be taken up by this twaddle! Painter Path Soong is known for her large works in black and white, which have a meditative quality. The American painter is in various museum and private collections. Soong's exhibitions take place sparingly which is the way she chooses. Each painting and print can take months for the artist to work and develop. Her first solo show, in Soho's June Kelly Gallery in 1996, met with critical and viewer acclaim the notices were extremely laudatory and sales were significant. This unusual pattern has continued. Critics ranging from Robert C. Morgan to Carter Ratcliff, Barbara MacAdam, and others, speak of Soong's sense of 'dialogue with the viewer' and her 'conceptual marks' address movement in nature from night skies to what appear to be mysterious yet familiar spirits. The lithograph, "Hillside Meditation" was created in 2008 and accompanies an original CD recording by the artist, a zen-like poem of the same name. In 2005, Soong was asked to create 25 small paintings which were shown all throughout the House as well as Studio of Jackson Pollock and Lee Krasner in East Hampton, NY. These works were done on small pieces of plexiglas with a combination of white oil combined with small white

104 stones hand ground by the artist from stones she found on the Pollock Krasner grounds. Some of the works were installed in the House and Studio windows, creating a startling and ever changing acknowledgement of the two painters of nature. In 2002, Soong moved from Manhattan to her present location in upstate New York. Article: The Project Space Gallery at SUNY Oneonta will feature 15 Minutes: Homage to Andy Warhol, an exhibit of contemporary prints organized and produced by artists Jeff Gordon and Path Soong. The exhibition features paired art prints and original recordings created by some of the most prominent artists, writers and performers who knew, worked with or were associated with Andy Warhol. Among them are Bob Dylan, Patti Smith, Ultra Violet, Path Soong and Jeff Gordon. For example, the poem Edie by Patti Smith muses on the life and death of Warhol superstar Edie Sedgwick. The photograph in Warhol s Factory by Nat Finkelstein shows Warhol and Bob Dylan with an Elvis painting. Dylan s song, When I Paint My Masterpiece, critiques the Warholian notion of fame and success. And Gordon s screen print modifies a Warhol Brillo Box sculpture as a visual analogy to his sound piece, which loops excerpts from a Warhol interview and lasts for the prototypical 15 minutes.

105 Ultra Violet r=o

106 Artist s Website: Biography: Early life Isabelle Collin Dufresne was brought up in a strict religious upper-middle-class family, [2] but she rebelled at an early age. She was instructed at a Catholic school, and then a reform school. [3] In 1953, she received a BA in Art at Le Sacré Cœur in Grenoble, France. She soon left France to live with an older sister in New York City. Salvador Dalí and New York City In 1954, after a meeting with Salvador Dalí, she became his "muse, pupil, studio assistant, and lover [4] in both Port Lligat, Spain, and in New York City. Later, she would recall, "I realized that I was 'surreal', which I never knew until I met Dalí". [5] In the 1960s, Dufresne began to follow the progressive American Pop Art scene including Jasper Johns, Robert Rauschenberg and James Rosenquist. Warhol and "The Factory" In 1963, Dalí introduced Dufresne to Andy Warhol, and soon she moved into the orbit of his unorthodox studio, "The Factory". [5] In 1964 she selected the stage name "Ultra Violet" at Warhol's suggestion, because it was her preferred fashion her hair color at the time was often violet or lilac. [4] She became one of many "superstars" in Warhol's Factory, and played multiple roles in over a dozen films between 1965 and In 1967 Ultra Violet played a part (with, among others, Taylor Mead) in the surrealistic play Desire Caught by the Tail by Pablo Picasso when it was set for the first time in France at a festival in Saint-Tropez. At various points in her career she would meet numerous celebrities, including John Graham, John Chamberlain, Edward Ruscha, Rudolf Nureyev, Miloš Forman, Howard Hughes, Richard Nixon, Aristotle Onassis, Maria Callas, Marcel Duchamp, Man Ray, Marc Chagall, Bob Dylan, John Lennon and Yoko Ono. [2][6] In later reminiscences, she would name Ruscha, Nureyev, and Forman among her past lovers. [4] In 1969, she was "dethroned" as Warhol's primary muse by Viva, a more recent discovery. [6] Although a full participant in activities at the Factory, she generally avoided the heavy drug usage prevalent at the time, saying that her body reacted badly to drugs. She had tried smoking as a rebellious teen, had gotten very sick as a result, and resolved to abstain from drug usage. She would later observe, "If I had lived like all those young people, I would be dead today". [6] In the 1980s, she gradually drifted away from the Factory scene, taking a lower profile and working independently on her own art. In her autobiography, published the year after Warhol's unexpected demise in 1987, she chronicled the activities of many Warhol superstars, including several untimely deaths during and after the Factory years. [7] Later career In 1988, Ultra Violet published her autobiography, Famous for 15 Minutes: My Years with Andy Warhol. This autobiography was edited extensively and partially translated from French to English by her New York penthouse roommate Natalie Durkee. After a review of the book in the New York Times, [2] it was published worldwide, eventually in 17 languages. After a book tour, she returned to France; in 1990 she opened a studio in Nice and wrote

107 another book detailing her own ideas about art, L'Ultratique. She lived and worked as an artist in New York City, [5] and also maintained a studio in Nice for the rest of her life. [8] In 2000, she was featured in Message to Andy Warhol, a "concept art documentary" by Laurent Foissac. On April 10, 2005 she joined a panel discussion "Reminiscences of Dalí: A Conversation with Friends of the Artist" as part of a symposium "The Dalí Renaissance" for a major retrospective show at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. [9] Her conversation with another former Dalí protégée, French singer/actress Amanda Lear, is recorded in the 236- page exhibition catalog, The Dalí Renaissance: New Perspectives on His Life and Art after [10] In 2006, she had a solo show at Stefan Stux Gallery in Chelsea, Manhattan. [11][12] In 2007 she gave a retrospective [citation needed] lecture at the New York Institute of Technology. In 2010, filmmaker David Henry Gerson released Ultra Violet for Sixteen Minutes, a short documentary showing her perspectives on fame, art, religion, and her current artistic practice. [13] In 2011, she was featured in a brief article about the surviving former Warhol "Superstars". [14] Regarding her famous past and her artwork today, she has said, People always want to know about the past, but I m much more interested in tomorrow". [15] In 2011, she exhibited a series of artworks as her personal memorial of the September 11 attacks, which were displayed in the exhibit Memorial IX XI at Queensborough Community College. [16] In a 2012 interview, she said, "I m a New Yorker, I m an American, and I m an artist. Because of those three things, I had to do something about 9/11, and the question was what to do, which is not simple". [1] On August 12, 2014 independent record label Refinersfire released a posthumous limited edition 2-disc collection of original music and private conversations of Ultra Violet and Andy Warhol. The music was recorded in the late 1960s and early 1970s, and features cover performances of "La vie en Rose", "Mojo Queen", and the original songs "Famous for Fifteen Minutes" and "Moon Rock". Ultra Violet also had recorded private telephone conversations between herself and Andy Warhol, which feature topics such as police harassment, their films, the business of art, the RFK assassination, and Valerie Solanas and her attempt on Warhol's life. Personal life In 1973, a near-death experience launched Ultra Violet on a spiritual quest, culminating in her baptism in For the rest of her life, she was a practicing member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. [6][8] Dufresne died on 14 June 2014 in New York City at the age of 78, from cancer. [17][4] She had never married. Dufresne was survived by two sisters. [4] She is buried in Saint-Égrève near Grenoble. [18] Artist Statement: "I realized that I was 'surreal', which I never knew until I met Dalí" Resume/Vita: Books Famous for 15 Minutes: My Years with Andy Warhol. Photography by Sam Falk. San Diego: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich ISBN

108 Andy Warhol: Superstar (in German). Bergisch Gladbach, DE: Bastei Lübbe ISBN L'Ultratique (in French). Lodève, FR: Imprimerie des Beaux-Arts ISBN Filmography Blackout (1994)... Arlette An Unmarried Woman (1978)... Lady MacBeth Curse of the Headless Horseman (1974)... Contessa Isabel du Fren Bad Charleston Charlie (1973) Savages (1972)... Iliona, a Decadent Believe in Me (1971)... Patient The Telephone Book (1971)... Whip Woman Simon, King of the Witches (1971)... Sarah Taking Off (1971)... SPFC Member Dinah East (1970)... Daniela Brand X (1970)... Singer The Phynx (1970)... Felice Cleopatra (1970) Maidstone (1970)... Herself Midnight Cowboy (1969)... The Party The Secret Life of Hernando Cortez (1969)... Daughter of Montezuma **** (The 24 Hour Movie) (1967) I, a Man (1967) The Life of Juanita Castro (1965) Cinématon #1084 (1988) by Gérard Courant... Herself Lire #27 (1988) by Gérard Courant... Herself Portrait de groupe #92 : Avec Ultra-Violet à Paris by Gérard Courant... Herself Message to Andy Warhol (2000) by Laurent Foissac... Herself Articles: Ultra Violet, Former Factory Girl, Talks Carrying On Andy Warhol s Mission In honor of Andy Warhol s 85th birthday, we are revisiting an interview originally published last year. Sitting pertly on a low-standing couch, Ultra Violet is but one of the many violaceous bursts of color in her Chelsea art studio. As expected, she is dressed in her signature shade of purple, surrounded by similarly colored sculptures, mirrors and canvases that litter the studio s floor and crawl up its corners. The famed 60s icon, remembered by most for her association with the enigmatic pop-master, Andy Warhol, has invited us into her private world just one week before the 84th anniversary of Warhol s birth. In commemoration of her former companion, she has agreed to discuss with us something she rarely consents to addressing her past. In her 1988 memoir, Famous For 15 Minutes: My Years with Andy Warhol, Ultra Violet detailed the chaotic years of living with Andy Warhol and the eccentric members of the Factory. She found herself a Superstar among

109 the Warhol disciples after leaving the muse-dom of her former mentor, Salvador Dali. The surrealist icon introduced her to Warhol in 1963, kicking off what would be a decade long membership in one of the most influential art collectives in the history of the art world. During the years of her Factory career, she would abandon her baptismal name, Isabelle Collin Dufresne, and transform into the Bohemian star of dozens of Warhol s experimental films, known only by her pop moniker, Ultra Violet. But since chronicling her unforgettable history, the artist has been adamant that she is a woman of the future, not the past. Everyday I ask myself what should I do today, what should an artist in 2012 do today, she muses during our interview. In her post-factory years, she has created a formidable body of her own art, working in both a New York space and a studio in her home country of France. In series like Self-Portrait, 9-11, and Angel and Michelangelo, the artist focuses on mostly spiritual themes represented through installations of light, glass, metal and spare computer parts. Her work though, dripping with neon color and American cultural references, has unmistakable echoes of her pop-filled past, emphasized by her decision to keep her Factory-era name and dress almost exclusively in the violet hue she so proudly donned in her former life. With a constant eye toward tomorrow, Ultra Violet sat down with us to talk about these distant echoes. In honor of Warhol s birthday, she discussed her art career after the Factory, the spiritual impact of Warhol s legacy, and how she thinks Andy is the best American artist of the 20th century: UV: So you are doing an article about Andy s birthday? HP: Yes, that s what we are working on. It s in August? Yes, August 6th. When I wrote my book, I wanted to have the exact date of birth of Andy. Because Andy used to say I was born here, I was born there, I was born on this date. I did a lot of research and it was very difficult to find a real birth certificate. The reason is, when he was born, his mother, who was quite an original, forgot to declare him as being a newborn baby. And when he went to school, I don t know what age, maybe 10, he needed to get a scholarship and she needed a birth certificate. So she had to go to town hall or wherever with her sister and swear that this little boy was born on such and such date. And so therefore, his birth certificate was not where they normally are, and probably Andy knew about that. So I got the real certificate, which I published in my book, and subsequently the Varchola family called me and said, Could we get a copy of the birth certificate? which I gave them. So anyway, I have the exact date that he was born. Speaking of your memoir, in it you have a quote about the Factory that states, The whole game is people: meeting them, getting them involved, asking them for money, pulling them into our orbit, being invited to their parties and events. Every new person is a new possibility, a link in an ever-lengthening chain, an everclimbing ladder. I said that in my book? Yes. So how did you play the game? Did anyone not play the game and succeed, in your mind? Well, everyone played the game. I mean, I wrote the book in 1988 I think, just when Warhol had died, and when I was much more lucid. But at the time in the 60s, we were just having fun. We did not know we were playing a game, we did not know about the strategy, but I am sure Andy knew all about it. But you know it was very different, it was a very hedonistic era. We were just having fun. But when you write the book, it s just like a different story. When you began creating your own artwork after leaving the Factory, did you have a vision for where your career was headed?

110 When Warhol died, that night I had a dream, and in the dream I was with Warhol and we were together in kind of an open cathedral with open seating and smoke and millions of objects. And then I remember Andy looking at objects and not knowing which ones to take. Then I remember in the dream telling him, The shroud has no pocket, and waking up. So then I was having breakfast in my kitchen, and I turned on the radio and I heard that Warhol had died. I thought that was very interesting and I took it as an omen that and maybe it sounds pretentious that I should carry on his mission. And when I say his mission, are you familiar with his last work that he was doing before he died? Religious work. So they were Last Supper, Madonnas, words from the scripture, a punching bag with the face of Christ, and things like that. And a lot of my work is based on spiritual or religious things. I study the scripture and a lot of it is based on the book of Revelation, which has angles on every single page. And I used to paint angels I have some in the drawer, you see those work over there [points to her series of Angel and Michelangelo paintings of Mickey Mouse figures with wings] and below each of those is written Mickeyangelo, Mickeyangelo, and they have wings. It s another way of expressing angels. And then over there [points to black and white photograph], it s the Last Supper, which was a video that I did in 1972 with 13 women. This was sort of my feminist era, which I am no longer. But I had a preoccupation with God and spirituality. Why is God a man? Why are the apostles a man? Why, why, why? What is the role of women? So anyway, I think that Warhol s legacy for his work is that he depicted the American dream and the reversal of the dream the disaster series. But his conclusion is not the dream nor the disaster, but it s spiritual work. We are spiritual beings. and what matters most is where we come from and where we are going after this. And Warhol was raised very religious, and maybe he went away from that, but he was very intuitive and he told me, If I go to the hospital, I won t come out alive. That s exactly what happened. I think he knew the end was near. And so again, the two last years before he died, he was doing religious work, you might say, which I find very interesting. You have incorporated some American iconography in series such as Angel and Michelangelo, which is something else Warhol did. Is that another influence you try to intentionally bring out in your work? Well, those are older. I don t know that I would do this today. This is a funny angel. I have painted some straight angels [points to a series of wings hanging on the wall]. But to tell you the truth, Mickey is a remarkable person or archetype. It s the first animal that spoke with a human voice. Tell me who else spoke with a human voice. Nobody! Then he has those extraordinary, parabolic ears it s a radar, it captures everything, knows everything. You can talk to him, he doesn t criticize you, you approve of his smile, it makes you feel good. And whenever he turns his head right or left, you always have those parabolic radar looking at you. It s an extraordinary graphic. Beyond your spiritual work, do you still feel influenced by Andy s art or the art done by other Factory members? Well, the other members of the Factory, the majority are dead. So I could be inspired by their death, but I move on. My speciality is to move on and to change. But I am very grateful to have met Warhol and learned from him. He was extremely intuitive and he was a genius of sorts. And I think he put me on the map. I mean, I don t know what Ultra Violet is worth, but without Andy there would be no Ultra Violet, so I am grateful. The very name Ultra Violet, which you still use, originated during your time with Andy, right? When I met Andy, he said, You have to change your name. Everybody there took a pop name. My birth name is Isabelle Collin Dufresne. You can imagine in this American culture, they can t spell it, they can t pronounce it. So I had to change my name. And I was reading an article on light in Scientific American, my favorite magazine then, and I saw the words Ultra Violet just to tell you, my preoccupation with light was then and is still now. And I have a lot of light work. To me, light is the spirit. The Factory was such a collaborative environment, open to a number of artists like yourself. Do you see anything like that existing in the art world today?

111 Not as much, because Warhol was very clever. He had the idea to have that loft, to make it silver like it was a giant reflective mirror, and the door was always open. My door is usually locked now [laughs]. In the 60s, it was all make love not war. There was a very communal idea in the air. I don t think it s the same today. And art then was such a I don t want to say novelty, but...i don t know. Today, because of the global era and the Internet, there are a billion artists. You just cannot know them all and it s much more diversified than it was then. New York was really the center of the art world, today maybe it is questionable. So at the time, he had the genius to have the Factory, every other artist could have had a factory but did not. Just the fact to call it Factory, though it was an exfactory, it was a place where we manufactured people, art, movies, paintings, you name it. So that was a very a unique moment in time and in history, no doubt. Do you still prefer to make art in New York or abroad? I like New York much better. I like the American spirit, and I don t know if you ve ever been in Nice [the location of her other studio], it s lovely but there is nothing to do in Nice. I like action. You interview me about the past, and it s ok, but I am interested in tomorrow. What am I doing tomorrow. I don t live in the past. And I think that America is still the land of opportunity and belief and faith, and that opens the door. When you believe, it s possible. When you don t believe, nothing is possible. So I absolutely love this country. And this is why I did so much work on Because being an American, being in New York and being an artist, I had to do something about The question was what, and the answer was not simple. Because it was a very solid event that I don t think we have yet recovered from it. And I did not want to offend anyone, especially the families, the memory, and I think I just came to the conclusion that this is just the marking of time. A date, and I think that no one can object to it. The color [points to the violet 9-11 sculpture series] is the color of morning in Europe on Easter. They cover everything in that sort of purple-magenta. And it s also my signature; I used to sign a painting with Roman numerals. But when I realized that 9-11 is two I and two X, it was, design-wise, very fascinating. And it s a palindrome. So I just felt a responsibility, if you wish, in relation to Do you see any young artists today whose work has reverberations of Warhol s style or embodies the spirit you discussed of the 1960s? Young artists? No. Does he have to be young? One comes to mind, though he is not young, he is German. Anselm Keifer. He s an extremely good artist and his work is meaningful, moving, original. It has reference to history. So I like his work a lot. There are a lot of others, but I cannot tell you. I work. I do not go out to shows. The people that go out to every opening are people who don t work. It s really a distraction. Where do you see your career taking you in this next year? Hopefully somewhere! [Laughs] I recently came back from the fair in the Hamptons, and the reaction was extraordinary. Sometimes people laugh, and I like that, because art is so serious. And to make people laugh in Chelsea, that is quite a masterpiece. I think that I am empowering people with their self-portrait. I think everyone needs an iphone, everyone probably needs an Apple, and [everyone] needs a self-portrait. Everybody needs to be famous for 15 minutes. And everybody already is famous for 15 minutes. And I am trying to go for 16 minutes. And that is very hard. And the title of your book speaks to this: Famous For 15 Minutes. What drove you to choose this phrase? Oh, because it s a phenomenal phrase. Which I coined, and then Warhol used, and now the whole world is using it! You hear President Obama use it, everybody uses it. It has become a classic phrase, because today, everyone is famous or can be famous for 15 minutes. One last question. When we contacted you to do this interview commemorating Andy Warhol s birthday, what was your reaction to still being connected with him and the Factory?

112 Oh, yeah, it s very nice that he is being remembered. You know, Andy Warhol has the largest, single-artist museum in the United States. He has a foundation here, so you know, I think his legacy is immense. And I think he is maybe the best American artist of the 20th century, so I think it is well deserved. And I was very privileged, I guess, to have met him and to have understood who he was. It was a great blessing. But I am a futuristic woman, I usually don t like to talk about the past. I am interested in tomorrow, more than yesterday. Otherwise I would have no future. And I work at my future. People tell me all the time that I have a great past, and I tell them I hope I have a great future! After the interview ended and we made our way to the door, Ultra Violet told us to tell Andy Happy Birthday for her. See a slideshow of the pop art master below, and let us know your thoughts in the comments section. Article: 78.html Ultra Violet, Warhol Superstar, Dies at 78 By ANITA GATESJUNE 15, 2014 Isabelle Collin Dufresne, the French-born artist, actress and author known as Ultra Violet, the beauty among the superstars of Andy Warhol s glory days at his studio, the Factory, died on Saturday at a Manhattan hospital. She was 78 and lived in Manhattan and in Nice, France. The death was confirmed by William Butler, a family friend. A cousin, Carole Thouvard Revol, said the cause was cancer. In 1973, Ultra Violet had a near-death experience, for which she blamed her habits of excess in the decade before. In the 1980s, she condemned the rampant drug use, orgiastic sex and unchecked egotism at the Factory, repented for her part in it and became a member of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. She worked as an artist until her death. A New York exhibition at the Dillon Gallery in Chelsea this spring, Ultra Violet: The Studio Recreated, featured a selection of her paintings, sculptures, prints, film and neon works. The show closed three weeks before she died. Summing up her artistic abilities in a 2009 video interview, she said: I have infinite imagination. Maybe I don t have too much technique. Much of her recent work had dealt with Sept. 11, using the Roman numerals IX and XI as a graphic palindrome, and with the iconography of Mickey Mouse, whom she often depicted wearing angel wings. Ms. Collin Dufresne was in her late 20s when she met Warhol while having tea at the St. Regis Hotel with the artist Salvador Dalí, a lover and an earlier mentor. It was 1964, and Warhol immediately expressed interest in having her in his films. She made her screen debut the next year under her real name in Warhol s The Life of Juanita Castro, an improvised black-and-white political comedy.

113 By the time she appeared in her second Warhol film, I, a Man (1967), which also starred Nico and Valerie Solanas (who later shot and seriously injured Warhol), she had taken the name Ultra Violet. But when she was not in character, with some combination of purple hair, purple lipstick, trowel-heavy purple eye shadow and beet juice as cheek color, she looked like the prettiest girl at the prom a soignée brunette with a shoulder-length bouffant, delicate features and maximum false eyelashes. And she had a French accent. Isabelle Collin Dufresne was born on Sept. 6, 1935, in La Tronche, France, near Grenoble, to an upper-middle-class family. She often said that when she had shown rebellious tendencies as a teenager, her parents had a Roman Catholic priest perform an exorcism. Apparently, the effects were delayed. She was also sent to a reform school at one point and studied art in Grenoble before being shipped off to New York, as she always said, where it was hoped a new environment might tame her. As Ultra Violet, Ms. Collin Dufresne appeared in some 17 films, not counting numerous documentariesmade later about the period and the Factory regulars. Even those films that were not directed by Warhol or his acolyte Paul Morrissey tended to be Warholian, dealing with the counterculture, drugs or at least fantasy or horror, and her co-stars in those non-warhol films often included other Factory superstars, as they were known. She was in a 1970 Cleopatra, for instance, in which Viva played the title role. But Ultra Violet also appeared in Midnight Cowboy (1969), in a party scene with her fellow Factory habitués Viva, International Velvet and Mr. Morrissey; had a small part in Milos Forman s Taking Off (1971); and played a kinky party guest in Paul Mazursky s An Unmarried Woman (1978), with Jill Clayburgh. Ultra Violet s final film acting job was in Blackout (1994), directed by Paulita Sedgwick, a cousin of Edie Sedgwick, the heiress and Factory starlet who died in 1971 in her 20s. In Famous for 15 Minutes: My Years With Andy Warhol, Ultra Violet s 1988 memoir, she wrote about her return to religion after a nervous and physical breakdown. She kissed and told, naming among her past lovers Rudolf Nureyev, the artist Ed Ruscha and Mr. Forman. And she denounced the person she had been during the Warhol years as an unleashed exhibitionist chasing headlines. I survived by grace alone, she told a PBS interviewer in Ms. Collin Dufresne, who never married, is survived by two sisters, Catherine Cara and Edwige Merceron-Vicat. Interviewers often asked her about the decade in which she was at the center of celebrity culture. In a 2011 interview with USA Today, she said, I mean, it was an exciting era in that there was a cultural revolution going on. She acknowledged that there was no comparable shake-up underway in the 2000s so far, but added, I think we are constantly in some kind of a flux.

114 She could be a serious interview subject, as when in David Henry Gerson s 2011 documentary, Ultra Violet for Sixteen Minutes, she announced, As you come closer to your true nature, you are more fulfilled. But she could also jab. At an arts festival in Bridgehampton, N.Y., in 2010, she and her longtime Factory friend Taylor Mead were confronted by a young interviewer who appeared to have no idea who they were and simply presented them with generic questions like Whose work do you like? and Why are you here? Ultra Violet tossed off one answer, I like my own work. And then, as if it were 1965 again, she said, We are here because we are world-famous. Article: Ultra Violet: Former Rebel, Among the Angels Now Posted on: June 16, 2014 By: Matt Wrbican A cultural figure who perhaps could only have existed in the 1960s, the actress and artist Ultra Violet achieved fame as a Warhol Superstar, yet she appeared in very few of his films. As Warhol s biographers David Bourdon and Fred Lawrence Guiles have both noted, her penchant for publicity helped place her among those who are most-closely associated with Warhol; she had a sixth sense for photo ops. She was also the first Superstar to publish her Warhol memoirs after his passing in 1987, with a title borrowing the quotation which is so closely linked to him: Famous for Fifteen Minutes. According to her book, they met in December 1963 when the great Spanish Surrealist painter, Salvador Dali ( ), with whom Dufresne (as she was then known) had been associated for the previous five years as model and muse brought her to Warhol s newest studio, The Factory, on East 47 th Street. Although Warhol correctly wrote that it was 1965, he did immediately invite her to appear in his films. She describes her exquisite Chanel suit woven of gold-pink-blue thread that Warhol later described in both POPism and his posthumous Diaries, recounting the Palm Sunday luncheon given by Dali in 1978 at which Ultra wore the very same suit she had worn at their first meeting. Warhol also noted that Ultra bought a Flowers painting that day in 1965, one of the largest from that series, for $500. In his memoir of the 1960s, POPism, Warhol wrote that the painting was still wet, and that she was not yet Ultra Violet nor had yet started dying her hair purple. He also noted that she reminded him of the Hollywood star Vivien Leigh, and it was her physical beauty that no doubt made him contact Ultra when the photographers came around. The Flowers painting was in her collection for several decades; she loaned it to the Warhol Museum for a short time soon after the museum opened. Ultra was one of the Superstars who attended the museum s grand opening in 1994, and also took part in its inaugural symposium in 1995, Warhol s Worlds. Among the Warhol films Ultra Violet appeared in were three Screen Tests, The Life of Juanita Castro in 1965, I a Man, and several reels of Four Stars in She was also one of the Warhol Superstars who were cast as members of the underground in John Schlesinger s Midnight Cowboy in She appeared in many other films over the following years, but her sole ensuing project with Warhol that bore tangible results was her eponymous music recording in 1973, for which Warhol provided a single Polaroid photo of bug-eyed Ultra with a big red apple held in her mouth. The photo is printed on the back cover of the LP, rather than the front, which featured a photograph of what Warhol described as her incredibly long tongue. She also took roles on the stage, perhaps most significantly in John Vaccaro s production of Charles Ludlam s Conquest of the Universe, at which Marcel Duchamp requested to meet the cast in In the fall of that year, she was featured in a trio including her fellow superstar Viva and Warhol on the cover of The New York Times Magazine, in a story about Warhol s return to activity following the assassination attempt on June 3

115 that year. She was also among five of Andy s Girls, a feature in issue 3 of the short-lived magazine Avant- Garde in A color poster of her, fully nude in bed, under Roy Lichtenstein s enormous red Pop banner of a handgun, was widely available at that time. Previously to her years with Dali, Isabelle associated with the elderly English surrealist painter John Graham ( ). She was later involved with the American sculptor John Chamberlain ( ), of Warhol s generation. All of her affairs with artists seem to have been prompted by her rebellion against her conservative family. Her father was a wealthy French businessman; she was educated (her website notes she earned a BA in Art from Le Sacre Coeur in Grenoble, in 1953), and left for America at the age of 17. She is said to have undergone exorcism by a Catholic priest in 1948; a near-death experience in 1973 resulted in her return to Christianity, to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. It s difficult to say precisely whether or how this may be related to a performance she created in 1972, The Last Supper, presented at The Kitchen, the then-new center for avant-garde arts in Manhattan. More recently, since 1990 she was very actively creating art at her studios in both New York and Nice, with themes of mirrors and the current vogue for selfie digital photography. Her website notes four exhibitions of her recent work this year, including a group exhibition which just opened on June 7 at Château Musée Grimaldi, Cagnes-sur-Mer, France. A solo show of recent work was held in New York at the Dillon Gallery in April/May of this year. An exhibition titled The Spectrum of Ultra Violet was held in her honor by Culture Shock at Volta NY in March. She was also among 18 artists included in a touring group show of recorded sound, 15 Minutes, curated by Jeff Gordon. Book by Ultraviolet: Warhol/dp/ Famous For 15 Minutes: My Years with Andy Warhol by Ultra Violet (Author) Set in the dervish years of the Sixties and Seventies, Famous For Fifteen Minutes is a confession memoir of Ultra Violet. The story recounts of Warhol, a shy, bald, myopic, gay albino from an ethnic Pittsburgh suburb and the "Girl in Andy's Soup," Isabelle Collin Dufresne, a.k.a. Ultra Violet, a convent educated heiress from France. Salvador Dali, her companion for five years, introduced her to Andy in The book won the Deutsche Bibliothek Frankfurt Award, and has been published in 14 languages.

116 Lawrence Weiner einer+photo& fr=yhs-mozilla-002&hspart=mozilla&hsimp=yhs-002&imgurl=http% 3A% 2F% 2Ffadmagazine.com%2Fwpcontent% 2Fuploads% 2Flawrence_weiner_portrait_courtesy_of_moved_pictures_archive_nyc_photo_robin_martin-1024x683.jpg#id=5&iurl=http% 3A% 2F% 2Ffadmagazine.com%2Fwpcontent% 2Fuploads% 2Flawrence_weiner_portrait_courtesy_of_moved_pictures_archive_nyc_photo_robin_martin-1024x683.jpg&action=click Artist s Website: Links to Gallery Pages: Blocks_10451_10001_172741_-1_26680_46167 Biography: Frequently referred to as a Conceptual artist, Lawrence Weiner is perhaps more accurately described as a sculptor who considers his medium to be language and the materials referred to. 1 His work developed within the context of the so-called dematerialization of the art object 2 when, in the late 1960s, artists began with the premise that a work of art need not be a material object but rather could be ephemeral. Art could be an idea, a journey, a sentence, or even a page printed in a

117 catalogue. By 1967, sculptural practice had moved well beyond the use of traditional bronze, stone, wood, and other three-dimensional materials to encompass such elements as photographs, film, video, performance, texts, maps, imaginary sites, travel to specific locations, artists books, and audiotapes. In the early 1960s, before Weiner began working with language, he created sculptural works in the landscape, including setting off explosions to form craters in Northern California. Later, in Vermont, he set posts into the ground to form the outline of a rectangle, stringing twine from them to form a grid pattern. 3 However, he soon realized that it was not possible to build many of the largescale, site-specific pieces he envisioned and so he began presenting them in language that signified such intentions. In 1968, he wrote his Statement of Intent, the overarching philosophy that articulates the ways in which his work functions: Artist Statement: His statement of intent, formulated in 1968, has been a steady companion to his work ever since: 1. THE ARTIST MAY CONSTRUCT THE WORK 2. THE WORK MAY BE FABRICATED 3. THE WORK NEED NOT BE BUILT EACH BEING EQUAL AND CONSISTENT WITH THE INTENT OF THE ARTIST THE DECISION AS TO CONDITION RESTS WITH THE RECEIVER UPON THE OCCASION OF RECEIVERSHIP Resume/Vita: Exhibitions Flakturm at Esterházypark in Vienna: Zerschmettert in Stücke (im Frieden der Nacht) / Smashed to pieces (in the still of the night) (1991) A comprehensive retrospective of Weiner's nearly 50-year career was organized by Ann Goldstein and Donna De Salvo at the Museum of Contemporary Art, Los Angeles (MOCA) and the Whitney Museum of American Art, New York in Major solo exhibitions of the artist s work have been mounted at the Hirshhorn Museum and Sculpture Garden, Washington, D.C. (1990), Institute of Contemporary Arts, London (1991), Dia Center for the Arts, New York (1991), Musée d Art Contemporain, Bordeaux (1991 and 1992), San Francisco Museum of Modern Art (1992), Walker Art Center, Minneapolis (1994), Philadelphia Museum of Art (1994), Museum Ludwig, Cologne (1995), Deutsche Guggenheim in Berlin (2000), Museo Tamayo Arte Contemporáneo in Mexico City (2004), and Tate Gallery in London (2006)., [10] Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam in 1988/89 and in Arnhem (Sonsbeek) The Netherlands, in He has participated in Documenta V (1972), VI (1977), and VII (1982), as well as the 2005 Venice Biennale, and the Biennale de São Paulo in 2006.

118 List (selection) 10 October 20 December 2015 WITHIN A REALM OF DISTANCE: Lawrence Weiner at Blenheim Palace at Blenheim Art Foundation, Oxfordshire 25 October April 2015 Straight Down to Below: Lawrence Weiner (part of Artist Rooms on Tour at Tate Modern and National Galleries of Scotland), Woodhorn Museum, Northumberland, Scotland 26 September November 2014 Lawrence Weiner: All in due course at South London Gallery, London 21 September January 2014 Lawrence Weiner: written in the wind, Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam 2013 MACBA Museu d'art Contemporani de Barcelona March 1 May 13, 2012 Lawrence Weiner: NO TREE NO BRANCH at The Jewish Museum, New York May 19 June 19, 2010 Lawrence Weiner in the House of Art, České Budějovice, Czech Republic May 27 July 19, 2008 Lawrence Weiner: Water in Milk Exists at Kino Mascotte, Basel November 15, 2007 February 10, 2008 Lawrence Weiner: As Far The Eye Can See at Whitney Museum of American Art, New York March 22 December 9, 2007 Lawrence Weiner: Inherent in the Rhumb Line at National Maritime Museum, Greenwich, England- Article/Review: Artist of the week 45: Lawrence Weiner Etching fragments of conversation and poetry across the wall, this conceptual artist has a unique ability to make his work speak In 1968 a young conceptual artist from the South Bronx called Lawrence Weiner sat down to write a declaration of intent: 1. The artist may construct the piece. 2. The piece may be fabricated. 3. The piece need not be built. Each being equal and consistent with the intent of the artist, the decision as to condition rests with the receiver upon the occasion of receivership. With this, he delegated the responsibility of artistic interpretation to the viewer, shifting the onus on to the audience. It was his eureka moment, as blatant a description of

119 conceptual art as it is possible to make. He was already one of a group of artists, along with Carl Andre, Sol LeWitt and Robert Barry, who had come to the conclusion that the idea could stand as a work of art instead of the material. Weiner's manifesto went one step further, suggesting ways in which art could interact with the world, and his bold statement continues to have ramifications today. It is unusual to meet an artist who can speak compellingly about art, but Weiner, with his long, straggly beard, gravel-toned eloquence and humorous asides, is that rare creature. Perhaps it is because his art talks, albeit obliquely. Working with fragments of conversations, poems, sayings and slogans, he isolates sentences from their original context and paints them on walls, or prints them in limited-edition books. A consummate New Yorker the city of his birth is the first piece of information he ever offers about himself Weiner was born in 1942 into a large Jewish family and became immersed in the city's beatnik counter-culture. As a child, he played rugby possibly the only US artist to make such a claim and has subsequently made art about the gentleman's game. In the late 1960s he was picked up by the uber-dealer Leo Castelli, whose gallery was responsible for promoting many of the abstract expressionists and early pop artists of the time, including Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg. Many of Weiner's statements conjure up physical situations, like the sexually provocative Stretched As Tightly As Possible (Satin & Petroleum Jelly), from Made out of black vinyl cut-outs, it is easy to see that Weiner revels in innuendo. The sharp, minimal aesthetic of his style leads to comparisons with Russian constructivism, yet there is also the joy of dadaist absurdity and the shamanic ring of beat poetry that reveals a love of language and communication. Why we like him: For the evocatively chilling public artwork Smashed to Pieces (in the Still of the Night), from 1991, written in large letters on the side of a second-worldwar anti-aircraft defence tower in Esterhazy Park, Vienna. Jail bait: When he had an exhibition at the New York Public Library, he said: "Having been involved a lot in political activity, I spent reasonable amounts of time in New York City lock-ups and holding tanks, so it was really rather nice that every son of a bitch who ever thought I was crazy had to go by for four months and see my name on the front of the New York Public Library. I liked it." Poison pen: He hates the typeface Helvetica, which he describes as authoritarian, antagonistic and clumsy. He did have a long-standing love affair with Franklin Gothic until it became too popular. He now invents his own fonts.

120 Article/Review: Artists at Work: Lawrence Weiner By Emily McDermott Photography Frank Sun Published 08/02/15 This month we're visiting New York-based artists in their studios, ahead of fall exhibition openings. "Except for the helicopters, it's very quiet," Lawrence Weiner says, pointing towards the courtyard of his five storey home, nestled in the heart of the West Village. Reconstructed from the ground up in 2008, with his wife, Alice, acting as engineer and the firm Lot-Ek as designers, the 73-year-old's studio consumes the basement, and his archive the second floor. His conceptual stenciled words decorate portions of the home, while sketches and memorable photographs adorn the walls of the basement. When we visit, he's preparing for multiple shows and installations around the world, from Wisconsin to Massachusetts to Portugal, England, and more. This fall, in Oxfordshire, England, the South Bronx-native will become the second artist ever to install a show within the Blenheim Palace, a non-royal home constructed in the 18th century, designated as a UNESCO World Heritage site, and known as the birthplace of Winston Churchill. Last year, Ai Weiwei installed a sea of crabs and large ceramic vats filled with rice atop grandiose carpets, supplanted traditional busts with bronze animal figurines, and emblazoned vases with "Coca-cola" logos. This year, Weiner will use his signature style of words to create what he refers to as a "simultaneous reality." Through the exhibition, titled "Within a Realm of Distance" and put on by the Blenheim Art Foundation, Weiner will draw attention away from what already exists within the palace and towards his new realm; the realities will coexist, but each should be discussed separately. Some of his alterations will be obvious (replacing a medieval tapestry with the words "Far enough away as to come readily to hand" against a white background), while others might be slightly less overt (printing a short sentence and the words "primary," "secondary," and "tertiary" in black above each ventricle in the Great Hall). After showing us his sketches, noting that certain colors would change and certain technical difficulties arose with Blenheim Palace's limestone, we sat down with the artist at the white kitchen table on the main floor of his home. As Weiner hand-rolled cigarettes ("They're quite special to me. My friends bring them from France... You can't import them in the United States"), we spoke about his plans for Blenheim and his processes, among other things. EMILY MCDERMOTT: How did the collaboration with Blenheim first come about? LAWRENCE WEINER: I got a telephone call from Christian Gether, who's the director of Arken [Museum of Modern Art and co-curator of "Within a Realm of Distance"]. I was on my way to an airplane in Switzerland, so when I got back to New York, I called him, and we discussed it. He said they were interested in doing this as the second project, would I be interested? We talked for a little bit and I said okay. Then I had to make a show in Zurich and a show at Basel Art Fair for a day one day. MCDERMOTT: It doesn't sound like you were too interested in that.

121 WEINER: I'm not. I'm not against art fairs, in fact this last one I even made money, but the concept is really disgusting. If you're that rich to be able to hang out for two or three days, you're certainly rich enough to get on a plane and go to Munich or Düsseldorf or wherever and see somebody's real show instead of this stuff just stacked around. As nice as some of the booths are, it's not the same thing. It's a pity for young artists, because one of the things that a younger artist can look forward to is an emerging dealer who has a space that they can take over and build whatever will suit whatever aesthetic they find themselves in. In an art fair, you turn yourself into an object. This whole show is about objects it's something that interests me and the value of objects. So I flew to Amsterdam for two or three days, and then to Blenheim Palace, stayed there, looked through it, then got on a plane at Heathrow and came home. MCDERMOTT: When you saw the palace for the first time, what struck you? What did you want to build off of and address? WEINER: I was intrigued only because it's a non-royal palace. I'm from the United States; I don't get [royal palaces]. Dukes and Duchesses are essentially some sort of a meritocracy; I can deal with that. During the war, [John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough] said, "Look, I can manage with one house, one swimming pool, and one very good job." That's what a meritocracy is all about: you deserve a reward, but it's not at somebody else's expense. The public was so happy that finally they defeated the French, the Battle of Blenheim, that [they gave him a palace]. Then the rest of the story, I know it, but it doesn't really interest me. MCDERMOTT: How did you decide to depart from the story? WEINER: I looked at the physical thing and tried to figure out that if you're going to do something like this and I do a lot of public things it's not just going to be the venue; you have to take into account that you're trying to build another ambiance within that venue, a genitive presence. Genitive is a funny word because it means "from," but it also is the gender in European languages for objects: the masculine, feminine, and neuter. So if you have a genitive present, there's room for everybody to fit in. I just did a project in Vienna about rock, paper, scissor; you change the gender and it simply changes the whole thing. Rock is no longer a male. It doesn't function the same way. MCDERMOTT: I want to touch on your idea of a simultaneous reality and dealing with the space. What is the simultaneous reality that you want to evoke? WEINER: It's about building another simultaneous reality not having a conversation with the stuff inside, but also not demeaning it. It's there and it's living in another thing, which is sculptural. The sculptural reality that's being put through [the space] is the idea within a realm. All of the different pieces that are put through there are about another way of standing in relationship to the world. This is specifically a realm, not the realm. It's not universal. It's right then and there. In my work, it's simultaneously realities, instead of parallel. Simultaneous avoids the problem of alternate reality. In parallel reality, there's always a hierarchy, and there doesn't necessarily have to be a hierarchy. When you're in a palace like Blenheim, you're supposed to be in awe why not be in awe of something different than the stuff they're showing you? It's about finding your own existential place. MCDERMOTT: Is the specific site generally important? WEINER: No, the site's not terribly important. The concept of who your audience is becomes more important than your site. Sometimes you can be commissioned to do a piece in Strasburg, and it works. Sometimes you're commissioned to do a piece somewhere else and it doesn't work, but then it

122 moves to another city, the people embrace it, and becomes part of them. You just misjudged the needs of the people. Art is about giving people material and things to work with to fulfill whatever needs they have. MCDERMOTT: So when you begin conceiving a piece in your studio WEINER: I usually find the materials that interest me, bring them in, and do it. It all pretty much starts with the materials. You put the materials in the configuration, then I translate it into language, because all objects, you can't see them without giving them a name water bottles, vase, etc. So get them into the components that are making this sculpture, clean it up a little bit, and then present it. It's the same as we all do: we try to figure out who we are, what we want from things, and then we dress ourselves and try to go out and deal with it. MCDERMOTT: You're currently working on at least five projects that will be exhibited around the world. How do you balance each of them? WEINER: I don't. Each one gets their due [time]. Things inform each other. When I said that nothing is really site-specific, people intrigue you with a site, even a commercial gallery, something intrigues you the money or the site or the city, whatever it is then you turn it around and start to work on that, but with what you are working on at the moment. So essentially you're working with things that are of the time and adapting them into it, and in adapting, they change completely. So I can be working on Blenheim and Palma de Mallorca, [Spain] at the same time, because Mallorca is about another kind of existential reality: people in the 14th century doing maps had no idea what the fuck was going on out there. They weren't quite right, but they were all about aspiration of existentially finding out where they were in relation to the world. So it wasn't about giving information; it was how to find yourself, existentially, in this world that was changing with religious wars, and the Moors coming in and the Moors coming out. So that ties in with Blenheim, which was also a religious war between transubstantiation. That's all it was about, transubstantiation or not. It's all genuinely pretty straight forward. MCDERMOTT: I wanted to ask about something I read, which is how you used to get free tickets to the MoMa and you would go, but it was all about the pretty girls instead of the art. WEINER: Oh that was a joke, well, not really a joke joke, because the Metropolitan and all of those places didn't relate enough to my aspirations when I was 12 or 13. I got into the Museum of Modern Art and I was awestruck. I wasn't awestruck by Caravaggio, by these people; I understood them, I could appreciate them, I could explain it to people, but wasn't particularly awestruck. It's like clothing, you know your Givenchy, but it's not really turning you on. What turns you on is somebody in a different skirt. I discovered it attracted people, it was a place where after you did what kids do which is go to the park and screw you had something to talk about that wasn't about straight life. It was about something you absolutely didn't understand or were inspired by. That was it. And I don't believe in teaching children in museums how to make art just show them things and let them develop their awe. MCDERMOTT: Do you remember the first piece of art that was really awe striking for you? WEINER: I was very impressed by Pollock because they looked like star maps, and it turns out that they were; they were an attempt to find one's place in the world Wow! As a kid, you got it right! I didn't know at the time. But the thing was Giacometti's The Palace at 4 A.M. it's only this big [25 x 28.3 in.], yet it was as massive as Rockefeller Center. It was not in a form that I'd found attractive, I don't find anthropomorphic forms attractive, yet I could still stand there and go, "Wow." It's like you're

123 standing there and you're not a great fan of cosmetics, yet there's somebody that's made up and they're absolutely perfect. You might not want to touch it, but you certainly are pleased to look at it, and that's what happened with The Palace at 4 A.M. I'm sorry if I'm keeping everything on a human level, but essentially everything in our lives has to be on a human level. Any specification of something by art history doesn't make any sense. The point is, if you have a loving, adorable, supportive mother anywhere in the world and you tell her all of your dreams, all of your aspirations, and the reward you would like, and she understands you, then it's not worth doing. Think about it: you've already related it down to something that somebody else can understand. If art relates to something it's like Picasso, it's like Mondrian it's not. Art's supposed to be what it is. Using a reference of art history might help for some kind of sales, but it doesn't really help anybody. Art is what it is; it cannot be footnoted, until it enters the world. Then it has a history. Then the footnotes are the history, not the explanation. MCDERMOTT: What's the most recent development that has impacted your work? WEINER: This idea of understanding of simultaneous realities, which was Documenta and that last film I made, where things are going on without a hierarchy at the same time. They only notice them when they bump into each other because they're not compatible. There are things in this life that are not compatible. Certain belief patterns are not compatible. Any major religion is not compatible with any other major religion. If you look at Blenheim Palace, the idea that they all had to sign papers that they did not believe in transubstantiation in order to be part of the whole thing, that's incompatible. As far as material realities go, when there's a hierarchy between materials in 2015, that's idiotic you can get power from a stone and gold. All of these things we have finally found a use for, so therefore one use cannot be more important than another. Anything that has hierarchy of material values painting is higher than sculpture, sculpture is higher than whatever that's idiotic. It's the same thing that they're finally understanding about gender politics: if it walks and talks like it is, then what the fuck difference does it make to you? That's the same with art. A Mondrian walks and talks like a Mondrian; it doesn't walk and talk like a Caravaggio. MCDERMOTT: I know the specific typeface you use is extremely important. You use one you made yourself, and I also read that you can't stand Helvetica. WEINER: Helvetica has a nice enough typeface I guess, sort of dumpy, but it was taken on as showing intellectual power, and I don't like things that get away with just having power. I had to find a Franklin Gothic, extra condensed. After a while, the work entered the culture so much that if anybody saw something in Franklin Gothic, they thought it was me and it wasn't. So I worked at it for a long time and designed another typeface Margaret Seaworthy Gothic and I've been using that. It's not against another typeface. MCDERMOTT: You're simply picking what visually works for you. WEINER: Right. I don't think art should have an authority in this way. I mean, coming from South Bronx, I have no background and I live with somebody who has no background, so basically you're on your own, with friends and all of that, but you don't have any family money. [pauses] God, I've known Interview since the beginning. I knew Ingrid [Sischy]. I also did a calendar once for them. But New York was a very open city in the '60s and the '70s, genuinely far more open than you can imagine. Brooklyn used to be a place people didn't live there, you went there, you bought dope, you went here, you went there, and now it's a gated community. Nobody asks people what they do; they ask what school they went to and where they come from. It's a very odd situation.

124 MCDERMOTT: How do you feel about that? WEINER: Well, it doesn't affect me. It affects the people I'm around and I think it closes off the chance of strange people turning up that's what the academy has done. They show Jean-Michel Basquiat as an outsider; he wasn't. He was an artist, a well-educated guy. He said this all the time, he said he was not an outsider. Keith Haring comes from a standard working class family. This is not outsider, they went to school; they did everything. What happens to people that are outsiders, that didn't go to the right school? You never see them. You'd never have Brancusi if there was all of this stuff. Somebody just turns up, you have no idea how or where Picasso came with a pedigree because of his father but I like that in New York, people just turn up and you're attracted first to what they do, and then the personality. But the first question is not, "Where did you go to school?" Now it's too rigorous to get into the graduate school, to waste eight years of your life, to get a certificate that says they can have on the back "Made by a Certified Artist." Big deal. The dance world requires a place to practice, and that requires entering into the structure, but music doesn't and art doesn't and fashion doesn't. You don't need a certificate. Just do it or not do it. Lawrence Weiner is regarded as the father of Concept Art. During the 1960s, he developed an artistic use of language with reference to materials, which renders unnecessary actual execution of the verbally defined work. He still holds fast to this artistic practice, which he proclaimed in 1968 in his legendary Statement of Intent. Here Weiner declares that the production of a work of art is not necessarily bound up with the artist, but is a function of its reception. Thus in the tradition of Mallarmé's claim, he creates continuous objectivised texts (since the beginning of the 1970s in block capitals and without punctuation), the languages of which are juxtaposed, equivalent in translation. Weiner's concept of art excludes metaphor: "Art is never metaphorical", he would often assert emphatically. Nonetheless, the artist is aware that in interpreting the work, the viewer will transform it into a metaphor. For the main staircase and upper rooms of our renovated gallery and for the façade of the Salzburg Museum of Modern Art, Lawrence Weiner created permanent installations of letters and symbols, in the tradition of his open concept of a work.

125 POLAROIDS Article: Andy Warhol's Polaroids: the genius behind the artist By Allan Campbell 05 August 2015 The intersection of art and celebrity is highlighted in a new book featuring the countless instant Polaroid photographs snapped by Andy Warhol. But who devised the camera which allowed Warhol to obsessively document his life? Dolly Parton and Jean-Michel Basquiat. The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. Courtesy of TASCHEN. "I have a social disease, admitted Andy Warhol. I have to go out every night. If I stay home one night, I start spreading rumours to my dogs".

126 Whatever social occasion Warhol attended, he'd record it - and the people he met - for his visual diary. When doing so, he'd park his affected, blank demeanour to connect briefly with his subject by taking a photograph of them. Out would come the Polaroid which accompanied him everywhere. Snap. There would then be a wheezing noise as the print would squeeze out of the Big Shot or the SX-70 or whatever model Warhol was using (he wasn't fussy). Then there d be a wait of a minute or so as the photo developed before his eyes. Wow. There was Bianca. Or Candy. Or Dennis. Just like that. An instant Warhol original, with little effort involved. Some subjects might have been the lucky recipient of a one-off Warhol (there was no negative) but judging by the number of Polaroids contained in Andy Warhol: Polaroids , you suspect he didn t give many away. He would also use blown up Polaroids as the starting point for his painted portraits. Warhol once admitted; "I wasn't creative since I was shot". Well, here was one solution; creativity at the push of a button. He also said; My idea of a good picture is one that s in focus and of a famous person. Which means the Seventies were probably Warhol s prime Polaroid period. Then he mixed with celebrities. And, as Warhol knew, star power sold. It was also the company s golden decade - at its peak, a billion Polaroids a year were being snapped. Warhol was not the only artist factoring Polaroids into their work. Anselm Adams was an early adopter while Robert Mapplethorpe created homo erotic images in black and white using one of the company s cameras. In the 1960s, the Polaroid even ran an "Artist Support System", whereby creatives could receive free equipment in return for works donated. Nowadays Warhol s Polaroid shots are gushed over because they re so now, so proto-instagram, so almost-facebook. Andy really could see the future. Well, to a point. But the man who really did imagine the future was a middle-aged guy in a suit and tie called Edwin H Land. It was Land who d founded Polaroid in the Thirties. Second only to Thomas Edison in the number of patents filed for inventions, he was idolised by Steve Jobs, who met him and constructed Apple on the Polaroid model. For Jobs, Land was "a national treasure. He had begun by studying light polarisation with a view to reducing glare and went on to refine ski and night-vision goggles as well as 3D glasses for the US Army and Navy. Land produced his first instant camera with selfdeveloping film in In a 1970 Polaroid promotional film, Land imagines a camera that would be, oh, like the telephone something you use all day long a camera that you would use as often as your pencil or your eyeglasses. Then he produces his wallet to demonstrate what it might look like. But Warhol was already using his Polaroid like an iphone. With his camera, he would document his life with hundreds, probably thousands, of Polaroids. Snapping his dogs, himself, his friends, his life. Looking at those snaps now, at a remove of some decades, there is a curious, ethereal power in the best of them, be they bleached or gaudily coloured and each framed in neat, white squares. Somehow Warhol, as he had done so many times before, took the often trivial and gave it significance. But it was Land who gave him the opportunity to do so. SX-70 story An Instant Icon

127 The SX-70 retailed for $180 in 1973, which doesn t seem to be that bad today. Adjusted for inflation though that value skyrockets to a monstrous $900 in today s markets. Despite the price Polaroid still sold over 700,000 units by mid Its technology was used by all of Polaroid s Instant cameras after that, even the much more affordable $40 Model 1000 OneStep. The SX-70 made waves in the art world too. Andy Warhol famously loved his SX-70, making it his camera of choice for his work in photography. Warhol used the Polaroid Big Shot s film in the SX-70 so he could shoot prints to use as a basis for silkscreen portraits. Christopher Makos was a professional photographer that taught Warhol hos to use his camera. Here s what he had to say about it: The Polaroid was so cool at the time, Makos told Polaroid in 2010, we would all just take pictures of each other and pass them around, sort of the way that people pass around images on Facebook, writing on their wall, poking them I think you get the picture! Smithsonian.com The Legacy of the Polaroid SX-70

128 The extent to which the SX-70 has penetrated popular culture is shocking. Take a look at the image above, does it remind you of something? This later Polaroid, the Polaroid OneStep SX-70 is partly the inspiration for Instagram s logo. And it hasn t resigned itself to being a museum piece, either. People still use the SX-70 in their everyday lives, even if their motives for doing so are more artistic than the camera s 70s buyers. Polaroid phased out film production in 2006 but The Impossible Project s started production again, so if you ve got an SX-70 lying around you can go out and use it.