Art = Wank?
by Julia Vergho April 3rd, 2002
The Andy Warhol exhibition at the Tate Modern is eventually coming to an end this week. For a steep ten quid, the 'masses' had the chance to catch a glimpse of Warhol's major works. That's right, TEN QUID. So much for 'art is there for everyone to enjoy'. On the other hand, Warhol's obsession with consumerism might as well justify that. Consuming costs money, and that's that. Having paid the damn tenner and having managed The Tate's confusing queuing system, we eventually entered the halls of Mr Greasy Wig fame. Interestingly enough, we soon realised there was more to Warhol than Campbell Soup and Brillo Pads. I mean, everyone knows the guy was a bit of a nutcase, but did he have to wee on his paintings? Did he really have to film the Empire State Building for half a day? Where does art stop and crap start? No, hang on, that'd fall into the 'art for art's sake' category, wouldn't it? Still, doesn't Warhol's notorious silver-screening and duplicating defeat the whole point of art being individual? But then, ten more or less identical Elvises looks pretty impressive as it is! In fact the entire exhibition must have been designed to blow you away. Death by overkill. Talking about overkill, Art Tourism is going strong in 2002. You know, these people who run from gallery to gallery, ticking off the works they've seen on some list in their head? They zoom around the paintings and sculptures at sonic speed. Been there. Done that. Bought the T-shirt, the poster and the catalogue. These are also the people frequently spotted enjoying a packed lunch in the middle of a fucking showroom. Blasphemy! Disgrace! Coming back to the Warhol exhibition, household name art aside, I wonder what was going through this guy's head when he took upon his self-portraits. As he got older, the wigs got bigger and the looks more scary. As for the whole set-up, I do see it's supposed to be an exhibition, but I would have liked to find out more about the Meister himself, rather than just being confronted with the finished product. Obviously pictures and paintings speak for themselves, but after looking at dozens and dozens of them and still not seeing why he did it...gets a bit frustrating. Another frustrating Warhol feature is that you feel obliged to think he's the coolest thing since sliced, erm, Dali. It's a bit like having to like Pulp Fiction cos it's a 'cool' thing to do. But why is Warhol cool? Ok, this whole Factory business was quite a rock'n'roll thing to do, but does it justify crying out 'god you're so arty-chic' whenever you spot a Campbell's Soup print in someone's front room? Don't get me wrong, I like Warhol (of course!), what I don't like is the fact that I HAVE to like his stuff, because most other people do.