Back in the day, at the height of abstract expressionism, Warhol was the enemy. When subjectivity in art was all the rage—i.e. Jackson Pollock’s drip paintings– Warhol was commodifying soup cans, world leaders, and other celebrities. Such artists as de Kooning and Kline would enjoy more than their 15 minutes of fame, and Warhol with his production line productivity, his commercial factory considered an antithesis to fine art. Now with the current exhibitions at New York’s Whitney Museum (Andy Warhol: From A to B and Back Again) and Metropolitan Museum of Art (Epic Abstraction: Pollock to Herrera), it’s a good time to reevaluate the mid-century’s art.

The Whitney’s show features galleries of Warhol’s diverse and prodigious output. Needless to ask, what forms didn’t he experiment in? The show fascinates in illuminating Warhol’s influences, particularly his mother, Julia Warhola’s seemingly primitive art. Warhol made Maos and Marilyns, Lizs and Elvises and electric chairs, line drawings of penises tied up with string, portraits, Interview Magazine covers featuring pop icons like Aretha, flowers, movies, multiples of many objects. Shoe illustrations for I. Miller favor fantasy over utility, enhancing the product’s allure. All this is on luscious display, an eyeful; you have to wonder that Rauschenberg shunned him.

At the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the exhibition, Epic Abstraction: Pollock to Herrara, is a must see complement to the Warhol in the sense of showing work of the time. Pollock’s “Autumn Sonata” and signature sculpture by Louise Nevelson, “Mrs. N’s Palace,” serve as welcome entrance points, and you can never get enough of Rothko, but my favorite is “La Vie en Rose,” four joined lilac-tinted canvases by Joan Mitchell, Monet inspired. Coinciding with the publication of Mary Gabriel’s Ninth Street Women, the exhibition foregrounds the work of women. Gabriel’s book focuses on the work of Lee Krasner, Elaine de Kooning, Grace Hartigan, Mitchell, and Helen Frankenthaler, highlighting the importance of these women in the movement that changed modern art. At the very least, Gabriel provides a good gossipy read, never once mentioning Warhol.

Fortunately there are still some around who knew Warhol to fill in on the stories: the poet John Giorno sat for him back in the day. He’s featured in the 1963 black & white “John Washing,” for example. And then there are the writers who worked with Andy, Bob Colacello and Vincent Fremont, sources of anecdotes galore.

Regina Weinreich

Graphic Design: Salpeter Ventura