warhol museum >>> pittsburgh

My partner Richard informed me that I had to attend the expo in Pittsburgh -- in November. Pictures of oppressive grey skies, fur-lined parkas, and a grimy, northern city in winter was enough to make this Florida-boy shudder in dread. I booked the flight late; hoping something would spare me the trip. I was in for a pleasant surprise.

So I was going to Pittsburgh. I figured, there must be something redeeming about this city. A quick online search and the Andy Warhol Museum stuck out as something to see. Now pop-art isn't really my 'thing', but of all the things to do in western Pennsylvania, it seemed to jump out at me.

Two flights, a shuttle ride, a two hours wait for my room, and I was in my hotel suite. The day wore on, I met my partners and we had our business meet. Food and drinks followed and I got a good taste for downtown Pittsburgh. Much cleaner than I imagined, they have a great subway and some amazing architecture. We met for dinner at Palamino's, a posh eatery with a great bar. A Leger copy hung over the mahogany bar and beautiful people filled the place--Elegant décor and smiling people. We found our way back to our respective hotels.

I should have placed a wakeup call, but at 9:30 rolled out of bed. I was clear until lunch and my timing was actually impeccable. We rode over in the blue PT cruiser taxi. The 30-something, hipper-than-your average cabby asks me, "So what's the big deal about Warhol?"

I thought for a moment and replied that Warhol was a slice of history. "His best stuff is photos of the hip people of the day…" "he recorded the 70s." I added. "The soup labels… whatever."

And we were parked in front of the building. The streets were deserted. Today was Veteran's Day.

At the desk, an un-typical museum employee sat typing at a monitor, wearing a sweater and looking like a business major. He took my eight bucks, pointed to the elevator, and offered, "the best way to take it in, is to start at the top and work your way down."

As I sauntered off, he asked if I had a camera. "No cameras in the Warhol museum?" I thought. Ah, the irony.

As I wandered the square stone halls, I had to rethink my answer to the cabby. This museum, this city… is not what I expected. Before I knew it, I was having fun… actually enjoying the city. This is really not what I expected. I see a lot of art-originals. In one 20+ tall room, hangs a giant golden Rorschach test-very nice. Now I've seen the silver mylar "pillow" balloons in books before, but being a part of the exhibit, playing with them as fans moved them around the room was fun. It made me wish my 2 boys could have made the trip. They would have loved the cow wallpaper.

There's a great display on the 3rd floor about Interview magazine. Warhol was obsessed with celbrity. First he photographed them, then became a publisher with this mag, called Inter|VIEW and then Andy Warhol's Interview. The floor has many on display and a wall is covered in covers, all of which the guest is invited to pick up and see who snapped the pic or made the art. A lot of great photographers contributed, Herb Ritts, Annie Liebowitcz to name a few I recognized.

As I flipped the pages, I was amazed to see Andy's influence running strong through the current issues. His work is still influencing design and culture. I was definitely off on my comment to the taxi driver.

On the 2nd floor, writing these notes, I sat on a big, homemade couch-Several large blocks of foam with a parachute draped over them. On the wall hung a huge camouflage mural in green, aqua, brown and grey. Opposing it stands a 6 foot high Kieth Haring paper machete elephant, with his signature people glyphs and red tusks. This place is really fun. Museum attendants ignore me and the other guests, looking like art students, most dressed in black. They change places and go to another floor every so often, mingling with office staff. You can tell them apart, the staff looks a bit older and walk with hurrying purpose.

Oh yes, you see the recognizable images, Marilyns and pop icons, multi-coloured, diamond dust speckled. Andy portraits, Brando, the Elvis wall.

Some of the content is graphic-portraits of murderers, car crash scenes and a room full of Andy's collection of dental casts. Some are sexually explicit, but rather tame, some I like, some I ignore. Some are dark-the skull room, or the 12' square 38 caliber revolver screen prints in black and red.

Other pieces, earlier works from the 50s and 60s, are fun, line drawings on sparse paper, whimsical shoes, playful children. I think there's something for everyone, and a much broader experience than my cloistered imagination could have guessed.

I asked for directions and left the space. The same sweater-wearing attendant suggested I walk to the conference center. It was the coup de grace, as I strolled through the tall buildings in the nippy air. I hiked over the river by way of one of the giant yellow steel bridges, and started to really get an appreciation for Pittsburgh. This is one great place. I stopped midway and inspired, had to give Eileen a call.

The Warhol, much like my visit to this city, turned out to be an unexpected, great time. Next time, I'll check my preconceptions at the door, and ask the cabby what he thinks. Though I can still do without the soup labels.