|
On occasion, over the years I have been asked what my favourite
song is. This provokes a relatively simple response. Movie? More
a struggle - but with the help of Fellini a decision is reached.
Book? Well my answer is about as stable as an atom, yet I am still
able to respond. However, when first posed with the question, "What
is your favourite piece of artwork?", I confess I found myself in
somewhat of a quandary. You see, whilst having a healthy appetite
for Yves Klein's blue canvases and Marcel Duchamp's urinals, truth
be known, upon entering a museum I naturally gravitate toward the
phantasmagorical Italian masters before even venturing a glance
into the Twentieth Century.
Hence, I thought perhaps the renaissance would provide a clue. Still,
a truly daunting task lay ahead.
Caravaggio and his crew didn't exactly produce potboilers. So, a
short list was drawn up and several front runners emerged. All acknowledged
masterpieces that had reduced many a critic to a babbling wreck
worthy of mention in Pseud's corner, but despite the breath taking
splendour, transcendent beauty and unparalleled historical importance,
I had a nagging feeling something was amiss. It wasn't that I had
ignored cubism nor that I tried to deny the existence of abstract
expressionism. There had been no conscious decision to give preferential
treatment to artworks that had sustained terrorist attacks. After
further deliberation I finally realized there was only one painting
I could choose - Andy Warhol's Silver Marilyn.
I grew up in the TV generation, so Warhol's work has always made
perfect sense to me. The artists painting before photography were
the only visual historians of their time. Warhol continued this
tradition of social commentary with a hybrid between painting and
photography. The Italians depicted death by crucifixion or in rare
cases the unlikely misfortune of being cannibalized by a blood thirsty
God from above. Warhol used the electric chair and car crashes.
The Italians favored religious icons for subject matter and Warhol
turned to the modern icons. His fascination with fame led him to
produce a vast array of portraits from Jackie to Liz and Elvis to
Mickey Mouse, but his real muse was unquestionably Marilyn. She
was his Dora Maar but without the complications.
He churned out multiple versions of her and even multiples of multiple
versions. But of all the examples, the Silver Marilyn is the jewel
in the crown. Although I am a great admirer of the more garish colour
combinations that Warhol used, it is the simplicity of the Silver
Marilyn, which attracts me to it, more than any other variations.
It is a stunning visual image- the modern Mona Lisa; serene and
indelible - a classic portrait that has taken on an almost mystical
aura. I have no doubt it will stand the test of time and hang comfortably
alongside the best of Bacon and Vermeer.
But it isn't just about Marilyn. Aside from paintings, I firmly
believe that Warhol's work in advertising, photography, fashion,
film and music has also had a profound effect on the way pop culture
developed. His diversity and innovation has long been a great source
of inspiration to me. The perfect balance between art and commercialism,
in which he somehow managed to convey humour, beauty and realism
with a gritty style; a potent combination by any standard. I suppose
I should mention that I knew Andy Warhol, but, unlike most famous
people I have met, he did not shatter the myth. He was neither a
crashing bore nor an egomaniac. Meeting him did nothing to diminish
my appreciation of his art. In fact, it enhanced my understanding
of his conviction and commitment to what he was creating.
Warhol continued to make powerful work until his death. Ironically,
his final paintings were an interpretation of Leonardo da Vinci's
Last Supper so I guess the Italians still had the last word.
So, it's all oeuvre now.
|
