Hot Take:
If you are interested in the New York art scene from 1960s Greenwich Village to 1980s Studio 54, if you want to meet some of the first out celebrity trans women, or you simply want to learn about or celebrate the pop artist Andy Warhol, this massive work of art is for you! If you don’t like emotional users, the occasional raunchy drug soaked erotic image, or the idea of carrying around a 550 page comic book, give it a pass.
Full Review:
Five hundred and fifty vividly illustrated pages long and five years in the making, Typex’s “Andy: A Factual Fairytale,” is a visual biographical extravaganza befitting its subject, the pop culture venerator and arch vampire, Andy Warhol, as it explodes with all the things he loved: color, celebrities, chaos, Campbell’s soup cans, candy and Candy Darlings, and, cover your eyes, gentle reader, and let this serve as a warning….c*ck! The book act not only as a chronicle of Warhol’s life and times, it also points to his contribution to our present moment, where celebrity is not always based on talent but on the ability to garner attention. This massive tome is also an impressive chronological paean to visual storytelling as each of the ten chapters celebrates the major comics artists, and dominant cartooning styles, of the times they illustrate.
Typex is a fair biographer, noting what is worthy of our attention in Warhol’s work and life while hiding none of his warts. Early in the panels, various figures offer critiques of Warhol’s pop art creations that stimulate the reader to consider the value of his work. Some dismiss it as lacking in expression or originality, saying it essentially “murders the artist,” while others praise exactly these qualities, saying it is a direct reflection of American culture—anti-elitist, mass produced, consumer oriented, and superficial, as it is offered without comment. A third voice points out that once a ubiquitous object, like the Campbell’s soup can, finds its way onto the canvas, “we start wondering what we have around us all the time…we become aware of it.”
Essentially, for better or worse, Warhol democratized the question of what art is and who makes it, asserting attention and dollars as the arbiter of worth over talent or enduring value.
As Warhol moved on from Brillo boxes and canned goods, he focused his attention on another mass produced commodity of the American market place: celebrity. Just as his canvases enlarged and colorized iconic images of Elvis and Marilyn Monroe, Warhol began to explore celebrity itself as a form of art. Acting as a harbinger of social media notoriety, he created an iconic and easily identifiable look—platinum fright wig, leather jacket, and black turtleneck—and sought opportunities to be photographed and breathlessly reported on, being at all the right places with all the right people at just the right time, whether he enjoyed it or not. Along the way, he broke a cardinal rule of the art world as he directly commodified his celebrity image in order to advertise and increase the monetary value of his work. He constantly moved towards the next creative technology to expand the reach of his mass productions—from canvas to film, from print making to xeroxing, from magazine and outrageous events to TV commercials—continually playing the role of “Andy Warhol, artist.”
Back to the warts. Although my opinion of Warhol is far darker than the author’s, Typex does not hide the abusive nature of many of Warhol’s relationships. Warhol shamelessly used his celebrity to attract and cycle through a group of unique but needy people, especially during his “Factory” years. While profiting from their talent, he created financial and emotional dependency in his circle by providing food, shelter, and recognition in lieu of pay or autonomy in their creative endeavors. One could argue that Warhol provided a non-judgmental space for such marginalized people, but he could and did exclude some of these same people, often leaving them without emotional or physical shelter when they displeased him or they were no longer useful to him. My negative opinion of Warhol was shaped long before I read this work as years ago, in my teens, I had consumed the excellent, and highly recommended, biography, “Edie: An American Girl,” that chronicles the meteoric rise and tragic demise of one of his muses, Edie Sedgwick. Warhol’s life is full of many unique and sometimes fragile people, and Typex helps the reader manage the flow of this enormous cast of characters by offering a page of fun and informative trading cards at the beginning of each chapter, introducing each of the new figures. Some people in the book really deserve fuller attention than Typex can offer here, like Candy Darling and the other out trans women who are memorialized both in Andy’s films and in Lou Reed’s “Take a Walk on the Wild Side”.
The artists and art styles used throughout the book are as numerous as the shifting cast of figures, creating great visual interest and lending some themes to the storyline. For example, an early panel were Andy’s dreamy and imaginative nature is illustrated, borrows a famous image from Winsor McKay’s Little Nemo, as Andy, like the character, escapes into dream land by climbing through a mirror. At the end of the work, artist Chris Ware’s simple close ups technique which shows minute facial changes over the course of multiple tiny boxes, almost like the freeze frames of animated movie cells, shows Andy passing into darkness at the end of his life. The final page circles back to the beginning, as it shows the adult Andy climbing back through the mirror. The only thing I might have wished for would have been a key to name and honor all the artists Typex imitates while telling Andy’s story.
Ultimately when Warhol decoupled celebrity from talent and commodified the benefits, he helped create the world we live in today. He could have been describing the unique and transitory ability of social medias to bestow intense attention from a vast number of viewers in a moments notice, whether the subject wants it or not, when he said “In the future, everyone will be world-famous for 15 minutes.” Typex slyly comments on the outsize influence of celebrity by including Warhol’s two interactions with Donald Trump. (The Donald twice quoted Andy’s statement that making money from art is no crime, as making money itself is an art, needing no justification.) Just as Warhol pursued the monetary value of attention by creating a persona that lasted long after his creative powers dissipated, Trump carefully crafted his brand as a successful business man and rode it all the way to the White House.
Highly recommended just for the spectacle of it all!