I was introduced to Andy Warhol, the “Prince of Pop Art,” my freshmen year of high school. My awkward, kooky art teacher — with his frizzy hair and glasses — always tried his best to impress the class. Mostly he would just show us random photographs and paintings he found inspirational and spent the whole class babbling about them, while no one cared. However, when he held up a picture of a plain, single can of Campbell’s soup, telling us it was the most beautiful work of art we would probably ever see, I believed him.
Most of the class laughed. Some were confused; some quickly scribbled down notes, making sure not to miss a word in case it will be on a quiz. Some were just waiting for lunch. I kept staring at the can of soup. It was plain, it was average and it was boring, but for some reason I was captivated. That is what Andy Warhol had the power of doing — he could create something so plain, yet make it so intriguing. He made simplicity beautiful, which today is something close to impossible.
Many people do not think of Warhol as an artist, but merely a fad of the decade — a weirdo who built up the power to call just about anything he made art. Warhol was not a fake; he showed the world a different perspective of beauty. He introduced the idea that perhaps what makes something beautiful is not something filled with complications and difficulties, but honesty and simplicity. So often, with this generation especially, people are focused on hurrying through life as fast as they can, upgrading technology as quick as possible. Why can’t we all just relax and realize that something as simple as a single flower can hold the most true and natural beauty in the world?
It was in Warhol’s “Silver Factory,” a mid-town Manhattan apartment, housing “Super Stars” (a term Warhol coined), where he created some of his most scandalous, thought-provoking art: his underground films. Warhol made more than 300 films and each is unique. The first film he produced in the factory was called “Sleep.” It was just a man sleeping over six hours, nothing more. Some other films include “Blow Job,” “Kiss,” and “Andy Warhol Eats a Hamburger.” I am pretty sure the titles give away what each is about.
These films were the start of reality television; none of the stars in his films were actors. If something interesting, embarrassing or boring happened, he would film it. The first Warhol film I watched was a small portion of an eight-hour film of the Empire State Building — silent and one shot only, as most of his films are. Although I admit I had to fast forward through it a couple times, I still found myself absolutely captivated. Like watching most of his films, you get a strange feeling. You just sit there and realize you have been staring at the same image for almost an hour, but you can’t pull away because you don’t want to miss something. While staring at the image, you can feel it slowly morphing and changing in your head; suddenly one picture feels like many. Finally, nearing the end of the film, you realize it is nighttime and the lights turn on and illuminate the Empire State Building. Just that simple movement, that simple change, seems like the most beautiful and drastic thing you have ever seen. How often is it today you can watch something with one shot, completely unedited and natural? Not even “reality” television is real. Andy Warhol showed life the way it was, hiding nothing, and it was lovely.
Whether it is with Warhol’s famous silk-screened prints of Marilyn Monroe, a banana or his controversial underground films, his unique personality and perspective on life is always evident. Not everything in our lives always has to be complicated — it can indeed be as simple as a can of soup.
“Isn’t life a series of images that change as they repeat themselves?” — Andy Warhol












