Future Beauty

There is a continued rumbling followed by a dissonant chime as I walk through the double door entrance at the 7th floor Sullivan Galleries (33 S. State Street). At the end of the entrance hallway is an open door to black. Intrigued by the invitation of an open door to darkness, I step through and become viewer and witness to an ambitious 2-panel (each screen is 15 feet wide) installation of the short-film, El Fin Del Mundo (2012) with direction by Moon Kyongwon and Jeon Joonho. The viewer is invited to sit on a single bench to view 13 minutes and 35 seconds of high definition video in a dark room. Both panels of projected video are angled as if opening up to the benched viewer and in doing so, suggest a scale and the subject matter of what is to come. The panel on the left follows a male character inside of his artist studio as he continues to work on his art even through a catastrophe while the panel on the right follows a female character who is a descendent of those who survived the collapse (on the left panel) and her enlightenment of the concept of aesthetic sense after a catastrophe.

The video sets the stage for the gallery-wide project in the form of exhibition, spearheaded by Korean artists Moon Kyongwon and Jeon Joonho. As I emerge from the first screening room, I emerge into a lightened space as a result of the Sullivan Gallery windows which illuminate the title of the exhibition-- News From Nowhere: Chicago Laboratory (September 21 - December 21). Initially presented in project form at Documenta (13) in Kassel, Germany, the exhibition is a grouping of ongoing collaborations and research to address the possibility of art existing in the lives of those surviving in a post-apocalyptic world and in doing so, the work becomes a viable discourse for rumination on the present.

With darkness there is light, and as a viewer makes his or her way through the entire exhibition space, one notices a black patterning on the floor that suggests a web-like form and continues throughout the gallery, weaving its way through pedestals and paneling. The pattern is illuminated by precise gallery lighting (laboratory aesthetic), wall-embedded LED monitor screens (laboratory and touch-screen reminders), but most importantly, the exterior sun. The windows lining the gallery are utilized as a mediator for information that can be found in the accompanying book published by the News From Nowhere team. The sun, as an energy and life-source, provides a somber reminder of the present and future as a viewer weaves in and out of the interconnected galleries. There is warmth and light on the outside, as well as large signs of civilization from the view of surrounding towers and outside sounds proliferating inward to the space. As a mediator between the lab and this exterior, white text applied to the windows’ glass are illuminated as demonstrations and additional information to be consulted as necessary.

The work featured by architect and designer, Toyo Ito provides a functional and applied solution by featuring a diorama and working examples (documentary photography, demonstrative video, research, blueprint) for his 2011 project Home-For-All. Through various examples with accompanying interviews as wall text, a viewer learns of the project’s creation of communal spaces that were built for the towns washed away by the March 11, 2011 tsunami in Japan. It is with this particular demonstration that the exhibition suggests and reveals fundamental problems and solutions towards existing contemporary and modernist architecture.

Behind Home-For-All is the central section of the laboratory that is focused on object/tool and system design. On display are the garments featured in both the first film and concluding film that suggest functional use and protection against possible threats to human life. Suspended on human forms by steel cables are the creations of Korean and NYC-based fashion designer Kuho Jung. The forms are clothed in peculiar, uniforms of silicone and a cellulose-blend fiber. A series of 3 garments (a base layer, mid layer, and shell) hover above 5 illuminating hexagonal floor lights. The display follows an odd aesthetic between both fashion commodity and research/lab accoutrements that are found outside of a gallery setting and laboratorial procedures. The display borrows aesthetics from science fiction films, and alludes to the garment’s inclusion in the featured films. This presentation strategy offers a desirable aesthetic for a future of which might require a closet of HAZMAT suits. Kosuke Tsumura is another designer whose prototype suits are demonstrated through embedded video panels as well as an unnerving pedestal installation. Contrasting the suspended illuminated garments of Kuho Jung, Tsumura’s suit lies on a pedestal at the size of the human being whose presence is suggested through the pedestal elongated hexagonal shape. Much like Kuho Jung, Tsumura’s design focuses in on the thematics of uncertainty within the context of the Chicago Lab but its display is much more aligned and focused when the viewer notices the pedestal shape is actually that of a coffin.

Another contributor to the project is Takram design engineering, whose Chicago effort involves a presentation of its Shenhu Hydrolemic System as integrated in the exhibition’s first film, El Fin del Mundo. Responding to the fundamentals of human survival that are food, water, and shelter (clothing/housing), Takram demonstrates their sophisticated solution as set on multi-leveled pedestals shaped as hexagons (following Kuho Jung’s uniform design). From the design firm’s web site, “...Afflicted by manmade causes, the rising sea level, radioactive emissions and release of hazardous materials into the environment, art and culture cease to exist. This provides an opportunity to re-evaluate what constitutes art, design, culture and the quality of life itself when all prejudices and preconceptions vanish. With this premise, takram was tasked to design a water bottle, as water is an essential item for survival.” The resulting artificial organs are demonstrated through a projection in an adjacent section of the gallery to reveal both interior and exterior bodily applications for the human user. There are “nasal cavity inserts”, a “renal fecular dehydrator”, a “urine concentrator”, and other devices concentrated in a sleek, weather (suggestion disaster-proof) briefcase at the center. This is where the laboratory finds itself lost between art and functional design. It is one part to expand and reach for all possibilities, it is another to totally disregard the material usage of these objects. While each artificial organ is life-sustaining, the materials used are still made from a culture of resource-extraction and oil-dependency. It is difficult to imagine a functioning artificial organ made of an organic or perhaps genetically-imbued material in preparation for a collapse situation. Both options give rise to a breadth of human-centric moral, ethical, spiritual, and scientific concerns.

After the laboratory inner workings of the exhibition that display these possible solutions for suggested collapse scenarios, the viewer is reminded of the collaborators, researchers, and artists who are continuously working through the existence aesthetics and life during a time in human history where both feel strenuous and at times, futile. The white text provides a space for constant visitation and rest from the exhibition’s necessary interior world.

A window example:

Guest: Do you think that religion will appear? What do you think is the ideal form of religion?
Misan, Korean Seon (Ch’an/Zen) monk: Every religion came about to fulfill a level of consciousness in people. People will probably continue to need religion, as human beings have a desire for safety and a way to contend with fear of the larger, unknown world. I think religion and mankind will have no choice but to coexist in some way. in the future, I think religion will play a role in allowing people to have an awakened consciousness. Mankind is continuously being enlightened. Consequently even if mankind comes to the precipice of the end of the world, the consciousness of survivors will be heightened and they’ll be able to see a new dimension. meditation will play an important role in that as well. 
Guest: That is one of the more hopeful stories that we’ve heard in our interviews.
Misan: If the religion of the future has something to teach people, perhaps it’s the ability to let go of thoughts. A religion arising from ruins should probably not be one with a big, fat brain but a warm heart.
Guest: If this were to be the case, what would the most important values be?
Misan: I think Einstein’s concept is more realistic than yours. Specifically, I’m talking about his belief that the world as we know it will come to an end within four years after honeybees disappear. Whether it’s 100 or 1,000 years later, religion will be useful in a practical way when it understands the essence of life and shows people who the most vital phenomena evolve. 

As a viewer approaches the north wall of the Sullivan Galleries, they travel further away from the initial film and approach the laboratory’s accompanying texts in a circular table as an offering for viewers to actively pursue the exhibition’s limited (yet thorough) amount of information by way of a circular table that suggests communal use, contemplation, and reflection. There is a large, unutilized gap of empty gallery space on the east side of this part of the gallery where lights are not lit. The space is ominous and it’s emptiness is heightened when the audio from the room behind the space makes its way into the main exhibition space. AVYAKTA is the name of the concluding short film that follows the aftermath of the (first film’s) female character’s actions. There are consequences in this future where the corporation-based country known as “TEMPUS” sends a male protagonist to travel back in time to prevent any sequence of events that could have led to the destruction of the corporate power and the rise of perceiving aesthetics in the future. The film utilizes the same 2-panel, 15-foot wide installation method as El Fin Del Mundo. The audio channels are even more nuanced, one on each side of the darkened room. This is the part in the exhibition when News From Nowhere’s strategy as laboratory, an experiment, as well as art rises to culmination and are thoroughly tested at the literal end of the exhibition.

News from Nowhere: Chicago Laboratory asks potent and sobering questions about the existence of art and life today, yesterday, and tomorrow. Through the use of a nuanced, webbed layout with the contrasting suggestion of a linear sequence, (beginning, middle, and end), the exhibition demands a rigorous ground for testing the strength and limitations of art and problem-solving in present-day reality (Toyo Ito’s HOME-FOR-ALL project) but also suggests room for a wide breadth of possibilities. Whether or not these possibilities will have to come to fruition is for the viewer to decide, perhaps in the Sullivan Galleries laboratory, or even in their own.

Madam, Thou Art Bonkers

Ben Foch and Chelsea Culp

9/14–10/27 @ The Hills Esthetic Center

8/10

"While dismantling a modern road that runs near Stonehenge, the archaeologists uncovered two ditches found to be remnants of an ancient pathway called the avenue. Archaeologists have known of the avenue and suspected it led directly to the monument, but the modern road had cut the delicate pathway in two, obscuring its purpose. The new discovery confirms the avenue's role as an ancient pathway to the site." 

A drawing of a can of lemon flavored LaCroix that I made.














CONCRETE

Is unwrapping a form of archeology? 

FUNCTIONAL VERSUS AESTHETIC YOGA

"He wonders if the people who inhabit this place after him will understand his perceptions about the people that came before him? He wonders if there is such a thing as identity or if we all move in swarms?"

Studio/Apartment visit with Genesis Breyer P-Orridge of Throbbing Gristle and Psychic TV

STUDIO VISIT WITH GENESIS BREYER P-ORRIDGE

This past summer I had the pleasure of meeting Genesis Breyer P-Orridge of Throbbing Gristle and Psychic TV. I was given the opportunity thanks to my close friend Leigha, who happens to be one of Genesis' closest friends, as well as their (Genesis prefers to be referred to as "we") studio assistant. I've been a fan of Throbbing Gristle and Psychic TV since high school, so the opportunity to meet Genesis was completely surreal and nerve-wrecking, as I had the responsibility of leading the studio discussion in front of an entire class. I originally wanted to ask about Throbbing Gristle and delve into a discussion that was more centered around the birth of industrial music, but due to Genesis' relationship with the other members of Throbbing Gristle, I felt it would be an inappropriate and awkward discussion topic. 

To give some brief background information, Genesis Breyer P-Orridge, born Neil Andrew Megson, was one of the founding members of Psychic TV and Throbbing Gristle. Born February 22, 1950 in Manchester, s/he essentially pioneered the start of industrial music with the formation of Throbbing Gristle in 1975. 

Throbbing Gristle were a multimedia project that experimented with noise and live visuals, eventually leading to the birth of industrial music as a genre. Other band members included Cosey Fanni Tutti and Chris Carter (both later went on to form industrial band Chris & Cosey), and Peter "Sleazy" Christopherson. They were known for having rather confrontational live performances, experimenting with noise, using standard instruments for the purpose of creating noise and layered sounds, as well as incorporating unconventional objects for sonic purposes. Genesis P-Orridge states in the book Rip It Up and Start Again, "…[we were] making up music on the spot, undeterred by lack of grounding in improvisational technique, using broken violins and prepared piano as well as conventional rock instruments like drums and electric bass. Inspired by John Cage's writing and by primitivists like the Fugs and the Velvet Underground, [we] believed that 'the future of music lies in nonmusicians.'" Throbbing Gristle disbanded in 1981, which led to the formation of P-Orridge's next project, Psychic TV, in 1982.

PTV were a video art and music project that experimented with a wide variety of sounds ranging from experimental, post punk, psychedelic, and acid house. Psychic TV were a multimedia project that also gives credit to a rotating lineup of contributors including Coil, Current 93, Rose McDowall, Soft Cell, and many more. Thee Temple of Psychick Youth was formed as a supplementary organization to the band that was focused on the spiritual, mystical, and the occult. Through this organization came the visual aspect of Genesis' work, as s/he found and collected things from all over the world, field recordings, essentially anything tangible that would contribute to her current or future projects. 

We made our way down to the Lower East Side to visit Genesis at home on the corner of Grand and Essex. Originally the visit was intended to be held at her studio but s/he was preparing for his/her retrospective at the Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh, so the majority of her pieces had already been shipped off to the museum. We were met in the lobby by my friend Leigha, who led us into the elevator and up to the fifth floor where Genesis lived. We entered the apartment which was essentially a hoarder's paradise, but a very organized hoarder's paradise. To the left was Psychic TV and Thee Temple of Psychick Youth ephemera decorating the walls, an enormous black bookcase filled with all different types of books, ranging from music to art and the occult, etc. His/her desk was in the center of the room facing the window, and surrounded by all kinds of Psychic TV/Throbbing Gristle ephemera. S/he greeted me with a kiss on the cheek and let me hold her new dog Musty (who originally belonged to James Iha of the Smashing Pumpkins). I started feeling nervous and almost nauseous as I looked through my notes, trying to decide what question to start off the discussion with, when s/he dove right into telling stories from past tours, immediately taking the pressure off. S/he began telling us about a past tour with Love & Rockets, Monte Cazazza, and others, as well as his/her new project with Trent Reznor of Nine Inch Nails at our mutual friend's record store and studio Heaven Street (located in Brooklyn).

S/he lectured us on the importance of collecting, preserving, archiving, not throwing anything away. S/he showed us a shoe horn that she had acquired many years ago while still in Throbbing Gristle, which s/he used to create demonic and strange sounds, originally intended for a Throbbing Gristle song, but ended up saving the piece using it fifteen years later for his/her new project with Trent Reznor/NIN. S/he told us, "don't throw stuff away especially if it has some spiritual or personal resonance. You never know what will come of it later on in life. Keep everything. You don't know when you will use it." 

"What is existence?" s/he said. S/he told us that making art was a symbol of process, that they were magical works and magical rituals. "Making art is a spiritual quest. We have enough stuff. Art is the psychic healer of the tribe. Why have an aesthetic plan? Why is it that we do this?" The conversation slowly dove into the question of experimenting and breaking out of habit. S/he said, "if you know you've got a habit, learn to try to break it." Leading the discussion into the topic of essentially being different, we discussed creating a global shift and "fucking up the status quo." The birth of Throbbing Gristle was to fuck up the status quo and create a huge global shift. S/he states in Rip It Up and Start Again, "Routines and habits, roles and expectations, were deliberately disrupted, with members sleeping in a different bed each night, selecting clothing out of a communal chest every morning, and eating meals at odd times." S/he encouraged me to keep collecting, recording noise, creating field recordings, constantly make work and they don't have to be final and finished pieces, continue to collaborate with others that have the same interests, and keep those who you love beside you and in your life because "we shouldn't be afraid of completely submitting to the other person, the person we love. Be submissive. See a cliff, jump off of it." 

Theaster Gates

I was in the West loop on my way to go see Wendy White’s show Pick up a Knock at Andrew Rafacz. Unfortunately, the gallery was already closed, 20 minutes before their official closing time. That was rather disappointing, as I really wanted to see that show. It also seems unfair toward the artist, I thought. To assume that nobody will show up and hence lock the door before closing time seems….well. All I could do was poke my nose against the glass doors. The lure of this show for me was White’s conceptual approach. I was intrigued by the title and the preceding discussion we had in class about the term “flopping,” which is a “falling” technique used by a soccer player to deceive the referee into believing that a foul was played against him. Usually, a penalty follows in favor of the team against which the foul was “played out”. A twisted idea that gets performed out in front of millions of TV screens, dozen of thousand of fans and often entails great controversy or even riots among soccer fans from opposing teams. The idea of “failing” in order to gain an advantage or to achieve success is twisted and, according to White, also more common in European games. According to her, in the USA, players are more reticent to use this technique.

Dominic Molon, in his essay called In Praise of Gamesmanship connected the dots between soccer game strategies and White’s work practice by paraphrasing Oscar Wilde’s aphorism, “Deceiving others. That is what the world calls a romance.” There is something about the poetic and the vile that was so gently fused in the show that I was about to see.

For, luckily, Kavi Gupta was still open. I decided to see Theaster Gates’s show Accumulated Affects of Migration. When entering the show, I was instantly taken to a different place: A place of nomadism, migration, transmission - Exile. What seemed to hold the objects together and what, at the same time alienated them was Nina Simone’s song “Feeling good” performed by the artist himself (I assume) - endlessly on loop, without ever taking a breather.

 The melancholic voice seemed strangely attracted and repelled from the objects sitting statically in space; their presence heavy; in fact, the melody as it filled the space, bestowed  a nostalgic human aura on each piece. In particularly striking for me was a set of five stairs that looked like deplaning ramps. One can imagine the feet that once have touched those stairs  that are now silently walking up gallery walls. Or, the dreams that were put into the tiny little wooden boxes, sitting inside an elongated wheelbarrow in the center of the exhibition space. Each box with its own décor. One I found particularly interesting: It was decorated with an old job ad from a German newspaper, in which a German Hotel was looking for a secretary, with good typewriter skills. The Hotel as a transitory space and the dream to go elsewhere in order to find a better life  is part of the migration story. A life packed up into tiny boxes. On wheels.  I stayed until the gallery closed.

On my way out, I was informed by one of the gallery assistants, that this show is an extension of Documenta 13, which I had not seen myself. For me, in that sense, it was a cold read. It is an exhibitions that creeps up on you the minute you enter and that leaves you with a deep impression - if migration is part of your life story.

A studio visit with Molly Soda

Please read on my tumblr >>> HERE

Assembling the Lunar at EXPO: A Collection of Things

Insulating Props

2013

emergency "space" blankets, coat hangers

“If you think you saw it at a garage sale, that’s how you know you don’t want it.”

These are the wise words of a loud-mouthed man with a southern drawl I did not have to go out of my way to over-hear at EXPO Chicago on Saturday. Of the hundreds and hundreds of framed prestige, what I saw that interested me the most might be found at a garage sale, and that’s how I knew I did want it.

As a “satellite” (pun intended, I hope) installation to Assembling Vestages, the Chicago Artist’s Coalition presented Joseph G. Cruz’s installation Assembling the Lunar in their BOLT residency booth at EXPO. Immediately, I was stricken by the large central installation atop a sprawling Indian rug, accompanied by the faint scratching pops of the potently-colored thermal moon vinyl record spinning on the turntable. Sonic translation of the topography of the Farside of the Moon delivers a frequency translation of data collected by a satellite via the National Astronomic Observatory of Japan of the topography of the far side of the moon. The sound is filtered through an amplifier, and the record sleeve sits upright with the iconic Dark Side of the Moon prism slightly faded into a Lysergic moon image.
On an opposing wall hangs a shelf, displaying a microscope. On view under the lens is a microscopic illustration of the night sky on the night of the first moon landing “minus historical presence of awe and pride”. Nearby sits a framed print, Collage of a Landscape we all agree on, but have never known, displaying satellite and computer-rendered imagery of the moons surface. There is something about this landscape that resembles a terrestrial mountain range yet retains a level of removal. The lunar landscape becomes like the Assembled Vestiges—a broken silica mold and bronze slag—the remnants of a sculpture without the sculpture in sight.

The collection of objects in Assembling the Lunar extend a diorama scene of a domestic space in the light of lunar exploration. This vignette tells an unearthly version of our cultural and historical story of the moon through mathematics and relics.
“Things do far more than simply effect what humans do; things transform and impact the specific way in which human beings perceive and understand our situatedness. Mediating representations act as surrogates in that they not only stand in for the thing, but also create a new psychological space for the thing. The simulacrum doesn't give us the real thing, but what it gives us is still real. Not many of us have been to the moon, but we have a general agreement on what the moon is. This is more real than the physical experience of the moon.” x

Cruz’s installation expresses an intersection between science, history, and culture we live on top of our Indian rugs and mantels, and among our garage-sale-worthy things.

Happiness is a state of inertia

Iñigo Manglano-Ovalle
September 12 - November 9

The drone may be the mythic bird of our generation. Iñigo’s first solo exhibition at Monique Meloche pushes this near invisible idea into the very palpable present.  Upon entering the gallery, one is immediately face to nose with what appears to be the fat end of a large wooden airplane wing. The structure moves in a line diagonally across the space, with it’s outermost and smallest end nearly touching the high corner of the galleries main space. People are free to walk around and underneath the wing that slices through the imaginary space somewhere between Monique and Meloche. The wing is wooden with something of a transparent tissue paper like outer coating. With a little prying, one will come to realize that the wing is handcrafted to the specifications of a predator drone wing. This begins the budding post-911 discourse that the work opens up. Over the last ten years Iñigo has worked with ideas of visibility and invisibility, paranoia, and their relationship to modernist structures including the military. Happiness is a state of inertia asserts itself thoughtfully within this trajectory. The reproduction predator drone wing recalls Iñigo’s Phantom Truck, which was originally produced for Documenta 12 in 2007. That work, a scale reproduction of a mobile weaponry lab described, but never actually found by U.S. Secretary of State Colin Powell in his address to the United Nations before the U.S. invasion of Iraq. Phantom Truck is a realized version of Colin Powell’s description, though without those walls which concealed the supposed laboratory. The work exists as a sort of mythical red herring, the exposed contents of said weapons laboratory are left to be interpreted by the viewer in room who’s pitch-blackness is as informative as it is illusive. The drone wing in Monique Meloche functions similarly, though instead of a lightless room the exhibition space is full of natural light… and the wing is white.  The work exists as a handmade reproduction of what is some of the most elite aerial warfare technology that exists today. The drone aircraft's invisibility and perceptual intangibility are challenged in the painstakingly handcrafted nature of the work’s creation. The subtler works that are to be discovered in the space reinforce the inertia of this aerial unmanned discourse.  Leaning against the back wall at about one meter in height are two sides of a predator drone propeller, again hand crafted out of wood. The original drone propellers were also made of wood, so what differentiates these in particular is the way they were made. Iñigo, and I’m not sure but I can assume an assistant or two whittle the propellers with a knife, as if they were a bit of timber laying around a campfire. The act of whittling denotes an idle or thoughtless scraping of wood with a knife, often to a point, and more often without intent. Whittling in the present is a process derived from and driven by an idle time or an anxious feeling.  Whittling is also an extension of ancient man’s necessity to make weaponry for hunting or combat, however in 2013, the use of this process is peculiar. No less peculiar is the exactness of the propeller blades in relation to the process of their creation. Flanking the propeller blades on one of the longer walls in the room is a set of three photographs of what appears to be a predator drone in the sky. Also visible in the photographs are the tops of some trees and what appear to be a pole and some sort of string, which might initially be mistaken for what many conspiracy theorists refer to as chemtrails. These photographs further confound an understanding of the predator drone’s scale. In media distributed photographs of predator drones we see the aircraft in the sky, and away from any cultural signifiers that would allow the viewer a clear understanding of the object’s scale. Also, one can’t help but consider their relation to John Baldessari’s Throwing Three Balls In The Air To Get A Straight Line. However, where Baldessari was using chance as a catalyst for the work, Iñigo seems painfully aware the drone model’s suspension by wire. This exhibition does as much to disrupt as it does to reveal any understanding of the drone’s physical makeup. The 1:1 replica drone wing is massive in relation to any previous understanding of the aircraft’s size, and what are revealed to be photographs of a tiny drone model dangled by the artist from a string and pole do as much to ground the viewer as they do to distort their perception. Despite the very clear subject matter in this exhibition, the subject is boiling over into territory that extends well beyond the very literal right wing in the space.     –KW

Warhol Museum at Expo, 2013

This past Saturday, I made my way down to Navy Pier for the first time ever (and I've lived in Chicago for 5 years), only to find myself feeling annoyed by all the tourists blocking my way and anxious to get through the crowds as fast as possible. I started the day feeling refreshed, inspired, and eager to see what the international art world brought to the Midwest. However, after being lost in crowds trying to ride the ferris wheel, and attempting to find the Festival Hall that Expo was taking place at, I found myself feeling  progressively more and more annoyed by the flood of people running around trying to get a picture with the pirate sculptures at the pier. Upon entering Expo, I put on headphones to drown out the crowd, and made my way through the right side of the hall, quickly glancing at work, not really feeling inclined to stop and look at any pieces. When I made my way to the back of the festival hall, I immediately stopped and took a moment to breathe, as a few monochrome Andy Warhol photographs caught my attention. I was drawn to the Warhol Museum's exhibition as the subject matter was something I was familiar with. The Warhol Museum was exhibiting five prints by photographer William John Kennedy, that were taken in the year of 1964. The exhibition was comprised of four hand-printed silver gelatin photographs and one chromogenic print, which were all large-scale, alongside mounted excerpts, essays and descriptions. 

The first mounted excerpt was the Foreword which stated that photographer William John Kennedy was able to capture remarkably intimate portraits of Andy Warhol, who was a very private person and a very public artist. The first photograph of the exhibition is the Homage to Warhol's Marilyn, 1964. Kennedy stated that Marilyn Monroe was a personification of the duality of the celebrity, embracing both the glamorous and tragic aspects. 

"The image is a thought-provoking and revealing portrait of the artist's conflicted and brilliant personality-one which Warhol carefully protected from the public eye throughout his lifetime by developing a deliberate public persona of studied detachment and aloofness." 

The Andy Warhol Museum is located in Pittsburgh, PA. They are currently housing a retrospective of Genesis Breyer P-Orridge's (of Throbbing Gristle and Psychic TV) works over the years.