Friends, This is a very fine post, and we should reflect on it. I really love Andy Warhol. I recommend a visit to the Warhol Museum on Pitsburgh's seedy North Side. It's a great museum. Warhol was born into poverty in Pittsburgh, and whatever one can say about his lifestyle, I have never heard a family member say a bad thing about him. What is more, he had his mother come to live with him not long after he went to NYC. I wonder what she thought about it all. She wrote commentaries for some of his paintings and these appear right on the canvas. Warhol's paintings tell us something profound about our society, that at its heart, it is as empty as it can be. And an empty society is bound to generate a lot of empty production whether it be endless shopping malls or art. Of course, Warhol offers us no transcendance, that is for us to achieve. michael yates michael yates Louis Proyect wrote: > > Ben Shahn is an icon of the working-class and revolutionary 1920s and 30s. > Jackson Pollock emerges from this milieu, but becomes transformed by > ex-Trotskyist art critics into a symbol of cold-war liberalism. The > respective schools they spoke for--social realism and Abstract > Expressionism--came to an end because the objective conditions that gave > birth to them came to end. By the mid 1950s, nobody could paint murals in > public spaces depicting a heroic, immigrant working-class for the simple > reason that it had ceased to exist. By the same token, nobody could pretend > that painting large monochromatic or drip-spattered canvases was pushing > the artistic envelope, when you could find such canvases in corporate > boardrooms across the country. > > When Andy Warhol moved to NYC in 1958 after graduating from the Carnegie > Art Institute (now part of Carnegie-Mellon) in Pittsburgh, he knew that > Abstract Expressionism had no future. He wasn't quite sure what would take > his place, so he kept his eyes open while pursuing a career as a commercial > artist and window-dresser. His drawings for upscale clients such as > Bonwit-Teller appeared in quarter-page ads in the NY Times and made him a > lot of money. Interestingly enough, these works were heavily influenced by > the "faux naif" style of Ben Shahn, giving them a whimsical, folk art > quality. Some of his earliest gallery shows were inspired by these > commercial works and helped to establish his reputation in the NY art scene. > > His work as a window-dresser could be a topic for an entire article that > compared the careers of L. Frank Baum and Warhol. Although Baum is best > known as the author of "Wizard of Oz," he also started out as a window > dresser, seeking out assignments with retailing magnates who shared his > love for Madame Blavatsky's brand of spiritualism. Baum's Emerald City was > meant to evoke department stores like Marshall Fields in Chicago, where > consumerism, theosophy and a personal-improvement brand of Christianity > were thrown together in a distinctly American goulash. Despite Warhol's > cynical exterior, he had a strong affinity for new age spiritualism while > climbing his way to the top of the art world. Billy Name, his chief > assistant at the Factory--his famous studio--was a theosophy devotee who > talked Warhol into the benefit of crystals, which he wore everywhere. Like > Baum, Warhol believed in the magic of department stores and shopping. The > big difference between the two is that Warhol did not believe in much of > anything else, while Baum remained a booster of American capitalism in all > its dimensions. > > Perhaps Warhol would have become a Pop Artist without a background in > commercial art, but it is safe to say that it must have accelerated his > decision to take up this new style. He first became aware of it through the > work of Jasper Johns and Robert Rauschenberg, who had both begun to > appropriate bits and pieces of the everyday world in their paintings, such > as advertising, grocery store merchandise or comic strips. > > Pop Art was undoubtedly a reaction to the overweening pretensions of the > Abstract Expressionist school, which had invested figures like Jackson > Pollock with a saintliness hard to take seriously. While people like > Clement Greenberg were busy deifying Pollock, De Kooning and Rothko, young > Turks like Rauschenberg, Johns and Warhol understood that the art world was > more about image and marketing than anything else. Since the ex-Trotskyists > probably retained a smidgen of their 1930s radicalism, it must have been > particularly galling to see high culture wedded to advertising in Pop Art. > The liberal intelligentsia generally had no use for Madison Avenue, as > evidenced by Arnold Toynbee's clarion call in 1961: "The destiny of Western > civilization turns on the issue of our struggle with all that Madison > Avenue stands for more than it turns on the issue of our struggle with > Communism." Warhol could not disagree more with Toynbee and later declared > that "Buying is much more American than thinking and I'm as American as > they come." > > (This is quoted on page 76 of David Bourdon's "Warhol," (Abrams, 1989), > which provides most of the details for this article. I can not recommend > this book highly enough. Not only is it scrupulously fair to Warhol, it is > also beautifully written. As Warhol is an icon of the 60s and 70s, such a > book can only succeed as social history. Everything you ever wanted to know > and more about psychedelic dance parties, underground movies and Studio 54 > is in there.) > > Jackson Pollock had a skeleton in his closet. He had decided to make a > quick buck and allowed Vogue Magazine to use several of his paintings as a > backdrop in a March 1, 1951 article on the latest French fashions. > Photographed by Cecil Beaton, the Richard Avedon of the time, the models > look perfectly congruous against the drip paintings, seen from our > contemporary vantage point. One of the drawbacks of Abstract Expressionism > is that it lends itself to co-optation because of its stubborn refusal to > represent anything social or political. One can not possibly imagine Vogue > models being photographed in front of Picasso's Guernica. > > Warhol saw no conflict between his day job and his fine art ambitions, and > ended up exhibiting some of his comic strip paintings in the window of > Bonwit-Teller in April 1961, where they served as a backdrop for mannequins > in summer dresses. Furthermore, he had much more of an affinity for someone > like Cecil Beaton than he ever would for Jackson Pollock. Beaton, along > with Truman Capote and Jean Cocteau, were early role models for Warhol. > Bourdon notes that "All three were dandies in an age of mass culture. They > were also diligent snobs, social climbers, and self-promoters with a shrewd > sense of just how far to parade their affectations. As aesthetes for whom > style was nearly all, they deliberately set out to amuse, innovate, and > provoke, and they succeeded in appearing outrageous while simultaneously > finding acceptance among the most conservative elements of society." Before > long, Warhol would meet Beaton and the two formed a life-long friendship. > > The clash between Abstract Expressionism and Pop Art was not just about > style. There is little doubt that there is a strong element of machismo > among Pollock and his cohorts, which not only excluded gays but women as > well. Many commentators have noted how Pollock's wife, the artist Lee > Krasner, subordinated her own career during their troubled marriage. Pop > Art, with its strong "camp" sensibility, moved in the opposite direction. > > Warhol's decision to paint Campbell soup cans in 1962 was typically a > marketing decision. He polled his friends and asked them how to avoid > conflicts with Roy Lichtenstein who had an opening scheduled at the > Castelli Gallery that year. Soup cans were not part of Lichtenstein's show > and so Warhol plunged forward. The reaction was explosive. It seemed to > strike a nerve in the mass media. When pressed to explain why he chose to > paint such a mundane subject, Warhol said, "I just paint things I always > thought were beautiful, things you use every day and never think about. I'm > working on soups, and I've been doing some paintings of money. I just do it > because I like it." Marxist critics in Europe interpreted Warhol as some > kind of caustic satirist, but this interpretation goes too far. Warhol > withheld from commenting on anything, since this was not his intention. > Probably the best way to understand him is as a barometer of society's > drift, rather than some kind of conscious critic. > > That being said, his work certainly operates at a deeper level to subvert > mainstream capitalist values, while embracing them on the surface. Warhol > accepted art as a commodity and broke the unspoken rules that defined the > artist as a saint rather than a small-scale industrialist. From a Marxist > standpoint it could be said that Warhol's main interest in art was to > create exchange value rather than use value. When you openly make this your > aim, you remove the halo from art. Bourdon comments: > > "Warhol's subjects, however, like those of Jasper Johns, were not chosen > entirely for their flatness. Many of his replications, including the > postage and trading stamps and dollar bills, are based on printed paper > with a specific financial value, and offer evidence of Warhol's persistent > wish to achieve a sort of artistic alchemy, transforming ordinary paint > into actual cash. Warhol loved few things better than to barter his art for > objects that had more value, at least in his eyes. He earnestly yearned for > the power to transmute virtually everything he touched into something of > greater financial worth." > > Marx stated in the Communist Manifesto that, "The bourgeoisie has stripped > of its halo every occupation hitherto honored and looked up to with > reverent awe. It has converted the physician, the lawyer, the priest, the > poet, the man of science, into its paid wage laborers." Warhol would seem > to be operating under this principle, with one important difference. He was > no wage laborer, but a new sort of industrialist. Instead of setting up > assembly lines to turn out automobiles, he set up a Factory which churned > out huge quantities of paintings using a highly mechanized process based on > rubber stamps, silkscreens and other mass production techniques. > > Warhol set up his first Factory in 1963 and this studio became a hang out > for all sorts of artists, bohemians, street people and drug addicts who > would form the casts of most of his experimental movies of the 1960s and > 70s. Despite the constant party atmosphere, Warhol never stopped working > for a minute. Unlike the soul-sick Jackson Pollock, Warhol never worried > about where his next inspiration would come from. It would turn up in the > grocery store tabloids or on evening television. > > The most interesting thing about Warhol is that while casting himself as a > happy consumer and producer of commodities, he was about as alienated from > American society as any of the more outspokenly bohemian figures of the > period, such as Allen Ginsberg. This came through most clearly in his > films, which defiantly presented transvestites, street hustlers, and dope > addicts as normal. As Warhol holds out one hand to embrace corporate > America with his Brillo soapboxes, Campbell soup cans or green stamp > paintings, with the other he is slapping it in the face with one outrageous > movie after another. Every once in a while, Warhol reminded polite society > which side of the tracks he lived on, as Bourdon recounts: > > "Warhol and the Velvet Underground made a sensational joint appearance at > an annual black-tie banquet of the New York Society for Clinical Psychiatry > at Delmonico's Hotel on Park Avenue in mid-January. Andy had been invited > to speak to the group, but as he always refused to lecture, he decided to > entertain the group with two of his movies, 'Harlot' and 'Henry > Geldzahler,' and the Velvets' music. The several hundred psychiatrists and > their spouses evidently were unprepared for the audiovisual assault. Soon > after the main course was served, they were startled almost out of their > chairs by fiercely amplified rock music, which drowned out conversations. > Nico, making what may have been her New York singing debut, groaned > incoherently into the microphone. On stage, Malanga threw himself into his > strenuous whip dance, while Edie Sedgwick launched into leggy gyrations. > Filmmaker Barbara Rubin, accompanied by Jonas Mekas and a crew carrying > portable photofloods, roamed among the tables, aggressively closing in on > certain headshrinkers and asking them embarrassing questions about their > sexual practices. The interviewees were intimidated by her cinéma-vérité > style, and many abandoned their roast beef and red wine to leave in a huff. > The next day's Herald Tribune ran a story headlined 'Psychiatrists Flee > Warhol,' spreading the notion that the artist's perversity was > uncontainable, terrifying even professionals in the field." > > Warhol's peculiar brand of subversion was certainly as much a part of the > 60s rebellion as the antiwar demonstrations, black, and feminist movements. > While street demonstrations undermined the authority of American capitalism > through attacks on its political institutions, Warhol was busily at work > destroying the cultural sacred cows that liberal anti-Communists like > Clement Greenberg or Hilton Kramer had taken so much trouble to set up. The > Pop Artists had collectively drawn a moustache across the face of American > culture and there was no way that its reputation could be restored. > > Although some kind of case may be made that Warhol made open homosexuality > acceptable, there is scant evidence that the gay movement regarded him as a > kindred spirit. His campiness simply did not meld with the militancy of the > period. Meanwhile, the rest of the radical movement was openly hostile. > Amiri Baraka told a NYC audience in 1968 that, "We do not want [our > children] to grow up to be Marlon Brando. We do not want them to paint > Campbell's Soup Cans. We do not want them to think that somehow the > celebration of homosexuality is aesthetic and profound." Despite Baraka's > attempt to cast Warhol as an establishment figure, there is plenty of > evidence that the FBI was as hostile to Warhol as it was to the rest of the > left. Agents sat at the premiere of "Lonesome Cowboys" in 1970 and took > notes furiously: > > "Many of the cast portrayed their parts as if in a stupor from marijuana, > drugs or alcohol... The movie opened with the woman and her male nurse on a > street in the town. Five or six cowboys then entered the town and there was > evidence of hostility between the two groups. One of the cowboys practiced > his ballet and a conversation ensued regarding the misuse of mascara by one > of the other cowboys... Later in the movie the cowboys went out to the > ranch owned by the woman. On their arrival, they took her from her horse, > removed her clothes and sexually assaulted her. During this time her > private parts were exposed to the audience... .The position of the male and > female suggested an act of cunnilingus; however, the act was not portrayed > in full view of the camera." > > After Valerie Solanas shot Warhol, he became much more fearful and would > not allow street people into the Factory. He began spending more and more > time with the idle rich and Eurotrash. By the 1980s, he had become a > respectable and wealthy figure and there was little of the rebelliousness > that had marked his earlier career. > > He should be remembered for this earlier period, since he performed a role > that is essential to breaking with capitalist "civilization". Warhol > essentially took a stick of dynamite to the cultural pretensions of the > ruling class, which had employed artists to flatter it since the rise of > the Flemish mercantile class in the 16th century. Warhol's message is that > the artist is no different than the plumber, carpenter, landscaper or any > other contractor who is brought in to erect a new house. The notion that a > painting should be seen as some sort of transcendental affirmation of man's > humanity, or a voyage into the unconscious, or a thousand other cliches > handed down from the romantic era to the late modernist era, is simply > ridiculous. Paintings are about money and you might as well paint a dollar > bill as anything else. > > One of the reasons that Warhol could reach this sort of radical conclusion > (and it is radical) is that the artist has a much different relationship to > the bourgeoisie than any other sort of practitioner. A novelist, poet, > composer or dancer can entertain illusions about his "purity" since there > is a possibility that the masses will accept him, despite the exigencies of > the marketplace. Such illusions are more difficult to maintain in the art > world, especially today. > > Artists do not paint for the public. They paint for wealthy consumers, > whose tastes are nearly impossible to predict. To gain access to these > consumers, it is necessary to deal with the gallery owners, who are as > about as grubby a lot you will find outside the world of real estate and > finance. In fact many of these characters have emerged from these sectors. > So you are dealing with a consumer who looks at your work as an investment > by and large, through middle-men who are a glorified bunch of thieves. In > order to meet their expectations, you have to address the existing > marketplace. You can spend six months painting what is in your heart, but > if it is not marketable, you will starve. Warhol accepted this world on its > own terms and created art that mirrored its own empty, pecuniary concerns. > > In my next post, I will examine Trotsky's writings on art and revolution. > As the most classical of classical Marxists, Trotsky always tended to view > the conquests of the bourgeois revolution favorably, whether reflected in > indoor plumbing or Beethoven piano sonatas. I believe it is worth > reconsidering this attitude since the evidence is all around us that > capitalism on the eve of the millenium is opening up the gates of hell, > rather than raising us to higher levels of civilization. If our lot is war, > economic ruin and ecological despoliation, why should we expect anything of > lasting value coming from another bourgeois institution: fine art. > > Louis Proyect > (http://www.panix.com/~lnp3/marxism.html)
