W
Bill Willis
Interior designer
Read MoreNigel Waymouth
Designer & Artist
Read MoreAndy Warhol
Artist, Film Director & Producer
Read MoreInterior designer
Read MoreDesigner & Artist
Read MoreArtist, Film Director & Producer
Read MoreIt was only sixteen months since Warhol had been shot and almost killed by Valerie Solanas, a radical feminist who had written the manifesto for SCUM, otherwise known as ‘The Society for Cutting Up Men’, and who had somehow become convinced that Warhol was trying to steal her work.
‘What sort of state is he in now?’ I asked Sandy Daley as we rode a large warehouse elevator up to the third floor. I didn’t tell her that Warhol’s Pop Art paintings had been a favourite of mine at school; and that one holidays, when he came over to London for an exhibition of his work at the Tate, I’d queued up to have him sign a copy of one of his books for me.
‘You’ll have to judge for yourself,’ she said; and then the elevator doors opened, and we had arrived. The first thing I noticed was the intense heat; and then I saw that right in front of us was a desk; and at the desk (apparently all alone) sat Andy Warhol. He looked just as I had seen him before, in his black T-shirt and black jeans; and he wore the same welfare glasses with pink rims. Perhaps he was a little more fragile? But I could have been imagining that.
‘Hi!’ said Sandy enthusiastically.
‘Hi, Sandy!’ Warhol replied, without a trace of warmth in his voice.
I looked around. We were in a large area, completely devoid of furniture apart from Warhol’s desk and chair. But over in the far corner there was a six-foot four-inch blond hunk, wearing shorts and waxing a surf-board. He took no notice of us at all: it was as though he was a piece of living sculpture.