An Alternative Reading of Warhol's Early Cinema
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Nothing/Something: An Alternative Reading of Warhol’s Early Cinema by James Anthony Chamberlain Nothing/Something nothing, pron., and n. 1. Not any (material or immaterial) thing; nought. 2. No part, share, or quantity of a thing; no aspect, evidence, or quality of a thing or person. 3. Not anything, or anybody, of importance, significance, value, or concern; something or somebody of no importance, etc. 4. That which is not any number or quantity; a figure or character representing this; zero. 5. a. That which has no existence or being; nothingness. b. That which no longer exists; a person who or thing which has been extinguished or destroyed. c. to nothing: to the final point, stage, or state of a process of reduction, destruction, dissolution, etc. 6. a. A thing of no importance, value, or concern; a non-existent thing; a trifling event. b. A trivial remark. c. An insignificant person; a nobody. 7. Triviality, worthlessness, insignificance. 8. In predicative use: that which cannot be denominated; spec. a person of no religious denomination. something, n. (a.) 1. a. Some unspecified or indeterminate thing (material or immaterial). b. Used as a substitute for a name or part of one, or other particular, which is not remembered or is immaterial, etc. c. Some liquor, drink, or food; esp. in phr. to take something. d. Used (with between) to denote an intermediate stage or grade. e. Used to denote an undefined or unknown occupation, or a person in respect of this. f. or something (colloq.), used to express an indistinct or unknown alternative. g. Phrases something for everybody (or everyone), something for nothing. 2. a. A certain part, portion, amount, or share (of some thing, quality, etc.); freq., a small part or amount, a slight trace. b. something of a(n), to a certain extent or degree a (person or thing of the kind specified). 3. a. something damp or short, a drink; spirits. slang or colloq. b. something (good or special), a useful racing tip. 4. a. In more emphatic use: A thing, fact, person, etc., of some value, consideration, or regard. b. to make something of, to make important or useful; to improve or raise in some way; to succeed in utilizing to some extent. c. something to see (or look at): an impressive sight. d. to have (got) something, to have an idea or attribute of value or worthy of consideration. f. Used in various phrases expressing admiration, as isn't (that, he, etc.) something?, to be really something; quite something. g. to have something going (with someone), to have an ‘understanding’ or an affectionate relationship (with someone). - Oxford English Dictionary 1. Introduction Andy Warhol is one of the most well-known American artists of the past century. However, both the man and his works have been infamously hard to interpret. Since his rise to prominence, critics, theorists, and historians alike have attempted to find a definitive answer to the questions ‘Who is Andy Warhol?’ and ‘What do his works mean?’. Despite almost fifty years of debate and hundreds upon thousands of books discussing the man and his art we are no closer to unravelling this enigma. As these questions still fail to be answered, the approach must be reconsidered. Perhaps the question should instead ask why Warhol’s art appears immune to incessant pigeon-holing. Due to the sheer volume of writing that exists on Warhol’s gargantuan oeuvre it is important that an area of focus is specified. This essay’s main concern will be Warhol’s early ventures into cinema, particularly those such as Sleep (1963), Eat (1963) and Empire (1964). The choice for these particular works rests in the third chapter of David James’ Allegories of Cinema: American Film in the Sixties (1989), a work heralded simultaneously as “sophomoric”1 and of “tremendous intellectual density”.2 The chapter, ‘The Producer as Author’, is dedicated to a round-up of prolific theories on Warhol’s filmic era. In James’ discussion of films preceding Valarie Solanis’ assassination attempt, these theories appear contradictory and inconsistent. James does not attempt to analyse or substantiate these readings. He instead arranges Warhol’s films in order to compliment them. One could ascribe this to James’ incompetence as an art historian. In a later essay, ‘The Unsecret Life: A Warhol Advertisement’ (1991), James refers to himself as a film historian and admits the world of Warhol causes him to “step a little outside his turf”.3 However, 1 Carney, Ray, ‘Looking Without Seeing’, Partisan Review, Vol. 58, No. 4, Autumn 1991, pp.717- 723 2 Desser, David, ‘Allegories of Cinema: American Film in the Sixties’, Film Quarterly, Vol. 3, No. 4, Summer 1990, pp.42-45 3 James, David, ‘The Unsecret Life: A Warhol Advertisement’, October, Vol. 56, High/Low: Art and Mass Culture, Spring 1991, p.21 Page 3 of 39 one may also use James’ text as a small cross-section in order to illustrate the issues found in almost all Warholian theory. The consideration of these issues will be split into eight chapters. The first four will each discuss one of the four main readings presented by James; these are as business art, as satire, as documentation and as access to the self-conscious. These theories will be briefly outlined and their counter-arguments discussed to find both merits and flaws. By doing this, discrepancies between James’ ideas and statements made by Warhol and his associates will be discovered. The following two chapters will be concerned with the missing aspects of James’ text; the relation between Warhol’s other art forms and his films, and the involvement of the spectator in the construction of meaning. Both of these chapters will help to give a possible explanation for why the theories in chapters two to five have been unsuccessful at providing a clear method for reading Warhol’s art. This essay does not propose to solve the ‘Warhol problem’ but instead attempts to take an objective stance on some existing theories. Rather than constructing yet another failed interpretation, it may provide an insight as to why others have been unsuccessful. As will be seen, the distinction between spectators’ perceptions of an object as something or nothing is apparent in Warhol’s work, his own words and in competing theories. For now, the first of James’ four readings, business art, will be discussed. Page 4 of 39 2. Business Art James refers to Warhol’s art practice as fundamentally “entrepreneurial”.1 He is not alone when considering Warhol on more industrial terms; it is commonplace amongst critics and theorist alike to ascribe to him the qualities of a “shrewd businessman”.2 There are, however, a few issues encountered when placing too strong an emphasis on Warhol’s preoccupation with the world of business. It could be argued that Warhol’s movement into the medium of film was an attempt at horizontal integration; a business strategy in which a single company will own or provide a range of services and products across the same supply chain for greater profit. However, a contextual awareness of Warhol’s involvement with journalism and television is required in order to give this theory more weight. As Warhol did not found Interview magazine until 1969 or get his own TV show until the early 1980s, one can only speculate about his intentions when first picking up a video camera and adding film to his repertoire. If Warhol’s movement is still viewed retrospectively, as James does,3 it must be assumed that if the application of this business strategy was intentional, it was founded on its potential to accumulate a profit. This seems unlikely. Despite public screenings, Warhol’s ventures into ‘commercial’ cinema were largely unsuccessful at generating an income. According to biographer Victor Bockris, Warhol’s most lucrative film was The Chelsea Girls (1966), making $150,000 from its exhibition. This is unusual in comparison to the amount of money lost throughout his vast back catalogue. Although Warhol’s Frankenstein (1973) managed to gross $4,000,000, due to bad business deals with film producer Carlo Ponti, he made next to nothing from it.4 Cineast Amos Vogel states in his ‘Thirteen Confusions’ (1967): 1 James, Allegories of Cinema: American Film in the Sixties, New Jersey: Princeton University Press, 1989, p.58 2 Ibid, p.65 3 Ibid, p.63 4 James, ‘The Unsecret Life’, pp.21-22 Page 5 of 39 The commercial success of a single film, The Chelsea Girls, must not blind us to the realization that the distribution and exhibition problems of the avant-garde remain unresolved.5 As Vogel suggests, The Chelsea Girls is a rare success and does not faithfully represent commercial attitudes towards art cinema. Collaborator and close friend of Warhol’s Billy Name discussed the economic failings of Warhol’s film during a Channel Four documentary entitled Warhol’s Cinema 1963-1968: Mirror for the Sixties (1989): It’s like a baby you want to grow up and stand on its own. It never grew up economically, he had to support it throughout its entire life, so at one point he just stopped doing films because they didn’t pay for themselves, they were too taxing. He didn’t really succeed in his goal in film making, in what he did with painting. The paintings paid for themselves; the films didn’t. The paintings had to pay for the films; the films didn’t pay for themselves. The films stopped.6 According to Name’s statement, only Warhol’s prints were able to generate a significant profit. To view Warhol’s movement to film as “profitable”7 seems illogical when considering these facts.