Andy Warhol, Silver Liz as Cleopatra, 1963
Silver paint, silk-screen ink and pencil on linen
The small but effective Andy Warhol Supernova: Stars, Deaths and Disasters exhibit at the Art Gallery of Ontario ended just after I got a chance to visit it. There were a few bonuses for this delay, including a free audio device with commentary by David Cronenberg, who acted as guest curator.
Warhol was a savvy promoter. He did work as a graphic illustrator for various agencies before becoming "an artist." The medium he eventually settled on, silk-screening, avoids all the meticulousness and time required for painting or drawing. And unlike photography, there is no attempt at continuously and obsessively trying to get the perfect image.
One of the things that always struck me about Warhol's silk-screens was how his images started off grid-like and relatively unblemished, with each image squeegeed with more-or-less the same amount ink. Then, progressively near the end, they are full of smears and overlaps.
My only conclusion was that he wants to degenerate his subjects, destroy them. Not only that, he wants to destroy the "work" altogether. I think that his lazy and controlling nature spawned this proclivity for destruction. Since he cannot make a masterpiece, he may as well dramatize his incompetence by destroying it. I've noticed such a tendency toward degeneration by many "artists" who have forfeited mastery and skill for self-expression, which eventually portrays itself as outrage and destruction.
Warhol's unimpassioned car crashes and race riots silk-screens are really a camouflage for his real interest – his desire to control creation and destruction all at once. He cannot be those Hollywood stars, so he may as well create, then destroy them, from his alternate Hollywood in his New York art studios.
It seems his whole being was infused in finding his own star. He certainly found something, albeit longer than the fifteen minutes he predicted for everyone else. But then, he was always a savvy self-promoter.