The Religious Art of Andy Warhol.
Morgan, David
The Religious Art of Andy Warhol. By Jane Daggett Dillenberger. New
York: Continuum, 1998. 128 pp. $39.95 cloth.
For many people today, artists are heroes. In the history of the
United States, the glorification of the artist among Protestants began
in the middle of the nineteenth century when Episcopalian,
Congregationalist, Unitarian, and other clergy toured the museums of
Europe and wrote breathless letters and memoirs about the transcendent
moments and epiphanies that gripped them as they stood before the works
of Raphael, Michelangelo, and the titans of Renaissance art. Protestants
have long adored gazing on the spectacle of Catholic imagery. But it is
about more than the tourist's curiosity about the exotic papist. In
search of the intense physiology of religious faith that such Calvinists
as Jonathan Edwards and others before him had understood as the
affections of genuine belief, American Protestants such as Horace
Bushnell and Henry Ward Beecher were transfixed and deeply touched by
the sacred art they saw in Florence and Rome. Jane Daggett Dillenberger
writes and thinks similarly. Artists are prophets and seers, visionaries
with special gifts. They contemplate the sublime mysteries of human
existence and their works are the produce of genius and mystery and the
shaman's esoteric rites. This is a Romantic view of art and
artists, and it is certainly a beguiling one. It takes feeling seriously
and finds in aesthetic experience a number of analogues to religious
life. But this approach to studying the career and work of an artist is
also liable to hagiography and to artificial villainy, the invention of
evildoers whom the hero battles--and inevitably defeats, at least if it
is an American story.
Dillenberger's short book is a paean to Andy Warhol. Not that
he does not deserve her praise. Warhol will likely remain one of the
most important artists of twentieth-century American art as well as one
of its most popularly recognized. The artist's keen graphic sense,
exercised in his early practice as a designer, expressed itself in
images with all the memorability and visual currency of a major
commercial trademark. Warhol created magnificently colored paintings and
prints that have entered the imagination and visual culture of modern
life in North America as well as many other places around the world.
Dillenberger's knowledgeable selection of works by Warhol in her
beautifully produced book offers clear evidence of the artist's
stature. But the accompanying hagiography is sometimes defiant of even
the most rudimentary logic. For instance, noting the artist's many
depictions of food in the early 1960s--the man of ten thousand
Campbell's soup cans--Dillenberger befuddles the reader with this
comment: "the many items of food that Warhol painted with iconic
directness preceded the general national concern for the hungry and the
homeless" (29). The notion that Warhol painted and printed
hundreds, even thousands of soup cans forty years ago in order to
comment prophetically on hunger as it came to be recognized in the 1970s
and 1980s is as impossible to substantiate as claiming that his famous
wigs were an anticipation of the "general national concern"
about hair loss. Only a prophet could do such a thing. This is also the
artist who in 1976 produced a series of paintings of skulls which, the
author tells us, was "related to anxiety over the spread of
AIDS" (71). Considering that the disease was not discovered and
described until 1981, this is prophetic indeed.
In addition to the vague thinking about artistic valor and
soothsaying, this account of the heroic modern artist relies on
vilifying popular culture as a vulgarizing, distorting, simplistic assault on fine art and genuine religious sentiment. In
Dillenberger's account, Warhol is a priest of high art who redeems
art fallen into the hands of commercial mass culture. She seems intent
on inscribing Warhol in the canon established by Clement Greenberg in
the 1940s and 1950s. In 1939 Greenberg wrote a seminal essay
("Avant Garde and Kitsch") in which he set out the central
articles of faith for American taste in vanguard art. According to
Greenberg, art was ordained to struggle against the mind-numbing
vulgarities of modern mass culture and its arsenal of kitsch, a term
Dillenberger takes up in her valorization of Warhol. Referring to the
large price tag, the "crassly commerical symbol," in an image
of Raphael's "Sistine Madonna," Dillenberger writes:
"It is the commercial marketing world that has reproduced these two
religious masterpieces [Raphael's `Madonna' and
Leonardo's `Last Supper'] in cheapened and distorted copies,
making them ubiquitous and finally boring. Is Warhol's price tag a
jolting reminder of this?" (56)
Later, Dillenberger asserts that Warhol "repristinated
Leonardo's mural, recreating it and making it accessible to
twentieth-century sensibilities" (99). One wonders
"whose" twentieth-century sensibilities? Apparently not the
millions of twentieth-century Christians who display a "degraded
copy" of Leonardo's painting in their homes (80). Presumably these folks just have bad taste. But it is possible to think about this
differently. Dwelling on the failure of commercial mass culture to honor
the pristine glories of fine art hinders understanding that, for people
of faith, "cheapened and distorted copies" are the stuff of
living devotion and domestic piety.
The argument of this book is that since Warhol was a closet
Christian, someone who, despite his public lifestyle, was privately
drawn late in life to the church of his childhood (though his
participation was restricted to sitting in the back of the church and
watching), his late paintings of religious subjects are infused with an
authentic religious sense. Though much of the book passes without
convincing the reader, by the end Dillenberger has made the case, at
least in the context of several particular images. It is certainly worth
thinking very carefully about the significance of a number of
fascinating images by Warhol as instances in which he visually conveys
the ambivalence and voyeurism that conflict with the longing he
experienced for religious belief and community.
David Morgan Valparaiso University