(Pittsburgh 1928–1987 New York)
Two Diane Keaton, 1984 stamped with the Estate of Andy Warhol and the Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. stamps and numbered twice ‘PO50.517’ (on the reverse of the right panel) and stamped with the Estate of Andy Warhol stamp and with the Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc. stamp and numbered twice ‘PO50.524’ (on the reverse of the left panel) diptych, synthetic polymer, silver paint and silkscreen inks on canvas each panel 50.8 x 40.6 cm overall dimension 50.8 x 81.2 cm framed

Provenance:
The Estate of Andy Warhol and the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual arts, Inc., New York
Jablonka Galerie, Cologne
Christie’s London, 8 February 2006, lot 7
Acquired at the above sale by the present owner

Exhibited:
Cologne, Andy Warhol, Diane Keaton portaits, on the occasion of the Show Andy Warhol. Diane Keaton at the Art Basel, June 11 to 17, 2002, Jablonka Galerie, Cologne, exh. cat. no. 4 and 9 with ill.

From Byzantine to Pop Art Icons
Created at the request of the magazine Vanity Fair, with which Warhol collaborated, the series of portraits of Diane Keaton was part of a larger commission which included the faces of Bill Murray, Meryl Streep and Clint Eastwood, some of the biggest stars of the period. In engaging with the image of the actress, Warhol makes very interesting choices, starting, in fact, with the frame of Mrs Soffel showing her in clothes which are indeed contemporary (the film had been released the same year), but which are certainly not canonical in the collective imagination. We find ourselves in front of a figure with a sacred appearance, a veiled woman in an attitude of rapt attention, contemplative in tone, in contrast with the public image of Keaton. It is certainly not the first time that the artist draws a comparison between the world of show business and the world of religion (always finding more similarity than distance there), and this diptych asserts in no uncertain terms that it is a Byzantine icon translated into contemporary language. Among the paintings in the series, which are all created with the same technique and chromatic choices, the diptych of Diane Keaton is the only one which plays a role that is not so much canonical as “canonised”. It is also interesting to note how the Vanity Fair canvases actually create a rather direct link with the work of Man Ray. The silver paint of the background, in contrast with the silkscreen ink, creates a dance of transparencies and glimmers which is along the same lines as the rayographs, one of the photographer’s Dadaist/Surrealist inventions. “Seized in moments of visual detachment during periods of emotional contact, these images are oxidized residues, fixed by light and chemical elements, of living organisms.” (definition from the dictionary of Surrealism, probably written by Man Ray himself). Warhol had a strong admiration and interest in the photographer and his work which was ill-concealed by the complete nihilism that pervades the artist’s entire production; in a self-recorded video diary made in ’76 Warhol claimed that he “only really loved him for his name, to be truthful… his name was the best thing about him,” but, as we know, the veneration that Warhol held towards the visionary photographer went well beyond the portraits that Warhol created of him, and extended to the vast collection of signed Man Ray photographs that he collected religiously. Warhol was naturally attracted to the enigmatic portraits taken by Man Ray of celebrities and personalities who predated his own period. Images of key figures like Picasso formed the base of his collection, which also numbered a huge quantity of solarisations and rayographs. It is precisely Warhol’s nihilism, the careful and astute construction of his character, which embodies so well the counter-values of mass society and makes the impact of his works so powerful. Often, he himself would admit that he was just an empty person making empty images, “if you want to know all about Andy Warhol, just look at the surface; of my paintings and films and me, and there I am. There’s nothing behind it,” which does nothing but highlight the real, profound substance of his work.