- Venue
- Southampton City Art Gallery
- Location
- South East England
If ever there was an artist who needs no introduction it is Andy Warhol. Responsible for some of the 20th century’s most iconic images, his work is known the world over, being exhibited, reproduced and parodied ad infinitum. It is a relief then to find that this expansive exhibition — selected from Anthony d’Offay’s treasure trove of artworks generously donated to the nation — is not brimming with Campbell’s soup cans and multi-coloured Marilyns. Instead, we are treated to a fascinating and rewarding selection of lesser-known works from Warhol’s vast oeuvre.
The first part of the exhibition, displayed at Southampton City Art Gallery, opens with the sombre canvas Self Portrait with Skull, 1978. Set against a blood-red background, a skull perches on Warhol’s shoulder, recalling the momento mori tradition. Indeed, the subject of death looms large in Warhol’s work, becoming something of an obsession after he was shot by Valerie Solanas in 1968. The large diptych Gun, 1981, perhaps refers to this incident as it features a .22 snub-nosed pistol similar to the one used by Solanas. In Self Portrait Strangulation, 1978, the artist feigns his death as the hands of an unseen assailant grasp his neck. However, despite Warhol’s genuine fears about dying, his hammy expression here imbues the work with a curious levity.
While the exhibition boasts some 200 works, a large proportion of these are posters. An entire wall is crammed full of them, including advertisements for exhibitions and films such as Chelsea Girls (1966), Flesh (1968) and Trash (1970). Muhammed Ali, Mick Jagger and Marilyn Monroe are seen nestling amongst iconic Warholian motifs and adverts for Absolut Vodka and Perrier. Opposite these hang one of the exhibition’s highlights: a selection of wonderfully austere portraits depicting, among others, Joseph Beuys, Robert Mapplethorpe and Gilbert and George. The sober colouring and restrained treatment of these compelling paintings contrast sharply with the vibrant, variegated canvases for which Warhol is better known.
Colour is completely absent in the last room which is filled with striking black and white canvases from Warhol’s ‘Ads and Illustrations’ series. Based on magazine cuttings and fliers, these crudely drawn, hand-traced images recall Warhol’s early commercial work, though their rudimentary style is far less refined. Created during the Cold War, the apocalyptic themes of war, death and religion permeate these diptychs. The enormous Hamburger (all works 1985-86), for instance, bears more than a passing resemblance to a mushroom cloud — a reading supported by the adjacent diptych Energy-Power, which features a hand cradling the symbol for nuclear power. The influence of Warhol’s Catholicism is felt in works such as Repent and Sin No More!, which twice reproduces the titular statement, and Christ $9.98, which features a cheap Catholic figurine. Made just before his death, these works are permeated by an almost tangible fear of nuclear apocalypse, death and divine retribution.
The black and white theme continues at the John Hansard Gallery where Warhol’s film and photography is the focus. Included here are a selection of filmed portraits known as Screen Tests, 1964-66, featuring Warhol’s friends, associates and hangers-on. A young Susan Sontag plays it chic with dark glasses and cigarette, while nearby Billy Name (a regular at Warhol’s studio-cum-hangout The Factory) seems to embody the very notion of cool. Dennis Hopper and Edie Sedgwick are also present but by far the most interesting character is Marcel Duchamp, who, having been instructed not to perform to the camera, spends much of his time pulling faces. The transgressive atmosphere of Warhol’s Factory, which at its height was awash with all manner of social misfits, is glimpsed in the Factory Diaries videos. Bob Colacello in Drag for a portrait of a Drag Queen, July 31, 1974, is an exemplary example, while Lana Jokel Cooks a Chinese Dinner, 1972 presents a rather more mundane slice of Factory life. Presented side by side on individual monitors, the soundtracks of these videos spill out into the space, generating a chattery hubbub.
The exhibition’s highpoint is the enigmatic suite of black and white ‘stitched photographs’, which derive from photographs taken around New York City. Indebted to Warhol’s early silkscreens, these works feature multiple copies of the same image physically stitched together in grid formations. A lowly rubbish bin is repeated four times in Trash Cans, 1986, while nearby are six images of Grace Jones having her body painted by Keith Haring. The loose ends of thread left hanging from these works serve to emphasise the materiality of the photographs. Death rears its head again in the gruesome Cadaver, 1986, which shows a corpse being examined in a morgue. This piece seems emblematic of Warhol’s entire oeuvre, bringing to mind Roland Barthes’ description of photography as referring to ‘that which has been’. Indeed, the driving force of Warhol’s practice seems to have been an overwhelming desire to capture a Zeitgeist that has long since passed. This leads us to recall another of Barthes’ dictums, namely that the true subject of photography — and by extension Warhol’s project — is death.
