A while back I read this in a book on Andy Warhol:
An image like a picture in a magazine represents something that is absent from the present moment, while an icon embodied the presence of whatever it represents. A picture of Saint Paul on the road to Damascus represented the historical Saint of Tarsus, who was dead and forever absent, the icon of Saint Paul in the sanctuary of their church in Pittsburg embodied Paul's eternal spiritual presence in the chapel.
The distinction between image and icon is an important article of Eastern Orthodoxy and years later Andy would apply it to his paintings of Marilyn Monroe and other celebraties.
Andy always held that if you couldn't get it exactly right, exactly wrong was better. Exactly wrong demonstrated that you knew what was exactly right and you were doing it wrong for the right reasons.
Andy printed his drawings while the ink was still wet, blotting the image and creating a splotched, splattered line of the sort young illustrators strive not to make when they learn the pen.
In De Kooning's Marilyn Monroe, the picture of the actress and the expressive painting are one and the same. The transcendental landscape in a Mark Rothko is coextensive with the exquisite fields of color that constitute the painting itself.
In this way, de Kooning's and Rothko's paintings aspire to possess their subjects. They imply that in some transcendental way we may possess the object we desire, by acquiring the painting we prefer. This is a recipe for a spiritual elitism, of course, and Andy knew better. He knew that the picture is not a person. He never pretends to possess Marilyn as de Kooning does. He borrows her image for a painting, as an icon of her aura, as a reminder of that which we can never possess.
In Warhol's democratic vision we are all alike in our unquenchable longing. Appetite and desire hold us together as a society, while taste and preference distinguish us and make us special. Neither exists without the other. So even though we may never possess that which we desire, we may possess the physical trace of that desire we most prefer, to remind us of the dreams that stuff is made of.
Warhol's early success: was largely due to his invention of a blotted-line technique, whereby he would take a pencil drawing, trace it with ink and while it was still wet, press the drawing onto another sheet of paper, creating a spontaneous looking line that delighted art directors with its original "handmade" look. This was enhanced by his mother's shaky cursive texts, which would accompany his illustrations.
An image like a picture in a magazine represents something that is absent from the present moment, while an icon embodied the presence of whatever it represents. A picture of Saint Paul on the road to Damascus represented the historical Saint of Tarsus, who was dead and forever absent, the icon of Saint Paul in the sanctuary of their church in Pittsburg embodied Paul's eternal spiritual presence in the chapel.
The distinction between image and icon is an important article of Eastern Orthodoxy and years later Andy would apply it to his paintings of Marilyn Monroe and other celebraties.
Andy always held that if you couldn't get it exactly right, exactly wrong was better. Exactly wrong demonstrated that you knew what was exactly right and you were doing it wrong for the right reasons.
Andy printed his drawings while the ink was still wet, blotting the image and creating a splotched, splattered line of the sort young illustrators strive not to make when they learn the pen.
In this way, de Kooning's and Rothko's paintings aspire to possess their subjects. They imply that in some transcendental way we may possess the object we desire, by acquiring the painting we prefer. This is a recipe for a spiritual elitism, of course, and Andy knew better. He knew that the picture is not a person. He never pretends to possess Marilyn as de Kooning does. He borrows her image for a painting, as an icon of her aura, as a reminder of that which we can never possess.
In Warhol's democratic vision we are all alike in our unquenchable longing. Appetite and desire hold us together as a society, while taste and preference distinguish us and make us special. Neither exists without the other. So even though we may never possess that which we desire, we may possess the physical trace of that desire we most prefer, to remind us of the dreams that stuff is made of.
Warhol's early success: was largely due to his invention of a blotted-line technique, whereby he would take a pencil drawing, trace it with ink and while it was still wet, press the drawing onto another sheet of paper, creating a spontaneous looking line that delighted art directors with its original "handmade" look. This was enhanced by his mother's shaky cursive texts, which would accompany his illustrations.
