When I was younger, my parents always made a conscious effort to take me and my sister to as many museums and art galleries as possible wherever we went. Despite this valiant effort to provide me with the expansive cultural education they never received as children, this privilege was utterly wasted on me at that age. However, amidst my general boredom, I can distinctly remember always having a fixation with the pop art of Andy Warhol. Their vibrant colours and irreverent mass appeal were perhaps the only things flashy enough to captivate me in this state of immaturity. As I’ve come into myself more and continued to learn about his work, I’ve discovered that it holds a deep personal resonance for me. It is for this reason that I could probably write this piece on any number of his creations and choosing a favourite feels like an impossible task. However, after careful consideration, I settled on his 1985 print entitled Judy Garland, Blackglama. This piece features an image that was originally part of a series of advertisements for the luxury fur brand Blackglama and depicts a middle-aged Garland sporting a lavish fur coat. Above her is the company slogan which reads “What becomes a legend most?” in bright pink and blue lettering.
While I have sadly not been lucky enough to view this piece in person, the convergence of art, pop culture, and commerce that it represents has long fascinated me. The first time I came across it was in an article I read in 2018 about the relationship between Warhol and Garland that I’m now unable to track down. Upon reflection, I’ve realised part of my obsession with this piece is the legacy of Warhol himself. After all, the phrase “What becomes a legend most?” could apply just as easily to the artist as to Garland. The obsession with so-called “low” popular culture and playful dissection of consumerism demonstrated here as well as throughout the rest of Warhol’s work has in a sense retroactively affirmed my own growing fascination with these subjects. The warm, yet critical, embrace he extends to such products of cultural ubiquity has always helped steady me in the integral belief that there is value to be found in what is generally given the reductive label of “trash”. And, as a somewhat reluctant mega-fan of the Real Housewives reality television franchise, some reassurance over this has occasionally been necessary.
Another reason why this print means so much to me is the way in which it depicts Judy Garland. As a piece that is evidently concerned with ideas of legacy and how we choose to memorialise our icons, the decision to portray Garland in such elegant, towering form holds a particular personal significance. Despite ongoing adoration from the queer community, the general public’s feelings towards Garland before the end of her life in 1969 consisted vastly of pity and mocking. This culminated as a result of a prolonged period of merciless tabloid intrusion into her financial struggles and long-suffered issues with drug addiction. However, lit ablaze in electric tones of blue and purple in Warhol’s print, Garland’s majesty is reinstated and her rightful status as a definitive icon of 20th-century American entertainment is asserted. Offset by a stark black background, Garland is shown staring us straight in the face as if she is daring us to question her indefatigable supremacy. As a young queer man myself, the reclamation of her image here by Warhol, another queer man, has always felt sacred. Queer cultural offerings such as this have allowed me the feeling of being connected to a community which is larger than just myself, even in times when everyone around me has seemed fundamentally different. This has been an absolutely vital tool in combating the loneliness that can accompany growing up queer and it’s why Warhol’s piece means so much to me.
[Fergus Kane, he/him]
qmunicatemagazine.co.uk 