I saw this Andy Warhol creation at Tate Liverpool recently. I liked it even without knowing anything about it but what I didn’t realise was that the gun depicted is very similar to the one used, on June 3 1968, to shoot him. On June 3, 1968, radical feminist writer Valerie Solanas shot Warhol at his studio.
The woman who shot him was Valerie Solanas who had been a known figure on the scene having written the S.C.U.M. Manifesto, a feminist tract that advocated the elimination of men (sounds like good, frothy, holiday reading). At 2:00 pm that day she apparently went up into his studio looking for Warhol. She rode the lift up and down until Warhol finally appeared. They entered the studio together. The phone rang; Warhol answered. While he was on the phone, Solanas fired at him three times. She missed twice, but the third shot went through both lungs, spleen, stomach, liver, and esophagus. She then shot art critic Mario Amaya in the hip. She tried to shoot Fred Hughes, Warhol’s manager, in the head but her gun jammed. Hughes asked her to leave, which she did. Warhol was taken to hospital where he underwent a five-hour operation.
Amaya received only minor injuries but Warhol was seriously wounded and barely survived. Surgeons opened his chest and massaged his heart to help stimulate its movement. He suffered physical effects for the rest of his life, including being required to wear a surgical corset. The shooting had a major effect on Warhol’s life and art and lead to death being a theme for much of his subsequent work.
Above, Warhol shows the wounds caused by the shooting. The actual moment-by-moment experience of being shot must also have been a life-changing, work-changing experience. The shooting was very real but to him felt unreal. I’ve had moments in my life where certain things (usually events which are shocking or upsetting in some way) happen and it’s like time slows down; the whole thing’s like a dream. Like when you’re in a car accident or somthing similar and you feel like you’re watching it happen in a film? Real things can feel unreal (as with the shooting) and unreal things can feel real (as with images of iconic celebrities).
“Before I was shot, I always thought that I was more half-there than all-there—I always suspected that I was watching TV instead of living life. People sometimes say that the way things happen in movies is unreal, but actually it’s the way things happen in life that’s unreal. The movies make emotions look so strong and real, whereas when things really do happen to you, it’s like watching television—you don’t feel anything. Right when I was being shot and ever since, I knew that I was watching television. The channels switch, but it’s all television.”
I had to do a very short presentation type thing at work recently. Above are some of the notes I made. As I was preparing for it the night before… (I always prepare for things the night before so as to create the maximum amount of anxiety)… I realised that my capacity to learn stuff has dropped off a cliff. It’s about five years since I last did any kind of formal studying but it feels like, since then, my brain has evaporated. You know when you leave something in the microwave too long and it shrivels up into a dry, crumbly, useless piece of shit? That’s my brain.
Actually I don’t think it’s anything to do with a reduction in brain cells. I still have the same number of brain cells that I had five years ago (about nine). It’s more to do with an increase in anxiety. I’m even more anxious now than I was then about getting it right!! How can that be?! Surely I’m supposed to be getting more confident as I get older not less!! Well, basically… nope! This time next year I fully expect to be drooling and slumped in a chair clutching a puzzle compendium. The question is… why?!