11:55 p.m.
Today we celebrate the birth of one of the most central figures of the pop-art movement. He was an illustrator, painter, filmmaker, record producer, public figure. He was Andy Warhol.
Born in Pittsburgh in 1928, Andy was raised was raised in a modest working-class home. When he reached the third grade he contracted St. Vitus' disease, which caused the discoloration of his skin, as well as involuntary movements. Because little kids can be such assholes, Andy was constantly tormented and ridiculed by his classmates. He became and outcast and spent his time alone, with his dolls and imaginary friends. Just kidding. He spent this time drawing, listening to music collecting pictures of movie stars. Warhol described this time as a very important period in his life. This was when he learned he was gay. No, this is when he developed his personality and style.
He studied commercial art at the School of Fine Arts at Carnegie Institute of Technology in Pittsburgh, and later moved to New York City and began a successful career in magazine illustration and advertising.
In the 60s he ate a lot of acid (probably) and started painting crap like soup cans and coke cans, and whores like Marilyn Monroe and Elizabeth Taylor. He founded "The Factory", his art studio. Decades later some brilliant people decided to make a crappy movie about it and his muse, Edie Sedgwick.
In the mid 1960s, Warhol adopted the band The Velvet Underground.
Warhol, with Paul Morrissey, acted as the band's manager, introducing them to Nico (who would perform with the band at Warhol's request). In 1966 he "produced" their first album The Velvet Underground and Nico as well as providing its album art. His actual participation in the album's production amounted to simply paying for the studio time. After the band's first album, Warhol and band leader Lou Reed started to disagree more about the direction the band should take, and over who would be on top. Anyway, yadda, yadda, yadda. He painted more junk that people went gah-gah over. He made some weird movies with a bunch of freaks.
In 1968 some crazy feminist broad shot his ass because Andy wouldn't return a movie script she had written (This was also made into a terrible movie called "I Shot Andy Warhol"). He survived, she was put in jail and the Factory era came to an end.
In the 70s he painted more crap and hung out at Studio 54. In the 80s he painted more crap and hung out with younger artists, trying to teach them how to paint crap.
Warhol was one of the first major American artists to admit that he was a big homo. Many of his films draw from gay underground culture and premiered in gay porn theaters.
He was a Catholic and often volunteered at homeless shelters. He regularly attended Mass, where he was regularly molested by the Catholic priests.
Warhol died in 1987 from a heart attack. He was buried in a a solid bronze casket with gold plated rails and white upholstery. He wore a black cashmere suit, a paisley tie, a platinum wig, and sunglasses. He was holding a small prayer book and a red rose. Sexy.
(I got the basic facts from wikipedia.)
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