Top 45 Warhol Quotes

Motorcycle garb is the way I looked to Warhol. Then came the Armani suits.

The only thing the Pop Artists had in common is that we all had been commercial artists in some manner. Lichtenstein was a draftsman; I was a billboard painter, but we didn’t work together. I didn’t meet Andy Warhol until 1964.

I get really frustrated when people say that a collection is not very ‘Armani.’ Iconic status can be like a pair of handcuffs, especially if, like me, you wish to continually stretch yourself creatively, as Warhol did.

I have done only two portraits: one of the artist Francesco Clemente and another of Andy Warhol.

Halston was one of the hardest-working designers I have come across. The way he cut, moulded, manipulated and draped fabric was inspiring. I was submerged into the Halston subculture alongside Andy Warhol, Liza Minnelli, Elizabeth Taylor and Truman Capote. They shaped who I have become as a designer.

Warhol’s images made sense to me, although I knew nothing at the time of his background in commercial art. To be honest, I didn’t think about him a hell of a lot.

Until my early teens, I lived with my mother in New York, and I spent a lot of time in the company of her friends, mostly artists and designers, such as Andy Warhol, Ross Bleckner and Francesco Clemente, none of whom had kids, so I was like their shared child.

Andy Warhol’s art wasn’t that interesting to me. He was more interesting to me as a person. He was art himself. I don’t even think he was really into art, per se. He may have liked to do it, but I think he was more into people being into him.

If you wanted to watch me work, it would be totally boring. It would look like a Warhol film where nothing happens. I sit for 24 hours, then I scratch myself.

I’m interested in visual vocabulary, like Warhol was interested in that vocabulary of advertisements and television and pop culture.

I went to the big Picasso retrospective at the Tate in the sixties, and I think I went to an Andy Warhol retrospective at the Tate in the sixties, too. My mother was very good at taking me to things like that. We lived in Reading, but we went on these cultural trips to London.

As a composer and as a musician I’m a true believer – and this is not to be overly diplomatic – I’m a believer that there’s artistry in everything from a lawn gnome to a desk chair to a symphony to an Andy Warhol painting. There’s art in absolutely everything.

I love Andy Warhol!

I was looking at the work of the New York street artists and then discovering Basquiat and Haring after that and seeing how the contemporary art scene was, and then going back into Warhol and all that was happening in the 60s.

Andy Warhol is the only genius I’ve ever known with an I.Q. of 60.

For somebody like Kanye, fame is the fullest realisation of his art in a way. It’s like an Andy Warhol dream or something. He’s able to marshal all of these different artforms and media into his story, in this very layered, idiosyncratic way.

So, did I work with Warhol? I worked with him less on that play then I did on other things. He actually did a portrait of my rabbit and some other stuff. Warhol was definitely… Warhol.

Andy Warhol was a good friend of mine. We used to go to the Studio 54 nightclub together with the likes of Liza Minnelli, and we’d dance through the night.

I worked as an artist, played in a band, met Andy Warhol, Christo, Lou Reed, and David Byrne. I had fun.

‘No Hands’ art goes straight back to Warhol. He was the first to use elves.

I believe in the ethos of the remix, like Andy Warhol making a painting of a Campbell’s soup label.

It’s a magpie aesthetic: If something is hideous, that’s interesting. It’s kind of the same sensibility that Andy Warhol had. He was interested in everything and soaked up what he saw like a sponge.

Ultimately Warhol’s private moral reference was to the supreme kitsch of the Catholic church.

I keep mementos from everything I’ve done. I’ve got my cab driver’s license from ‘Happiness.’ I’ve got a pair of glasses and a belt buckle from playing John Lennon. I’ve got a pair of sunglasses from playing Andy Warhol… It’s all in a box in the garage.

Appropriation was the language of my generation in many ways. It came out of Duchamp, Warhol, Johns, Lichtenstein.

I would go to the all-night grocery store and pretend that I was at Studio 54 because it was the only place open all night. Truman Capote in the frozen foods. Andy Warhol over in vegetables.

Warhol was definitely an inspiration when I was younger. I wouldn’t quantify his sort of influence. I’ve been influenced by nature and science, and I’ve been influenced by people like Ernst and Rauschenberg, Cornell and Bosch and Bruegel, by writers like Haruki Murakami to Pablo Neruda to Artaud.

Most of the creative industries have been deskilled by these really powerful ideologies of punk in music and Warhol in the visual arts. I think it would be great for us collectively to ask whether it’s had a negative or positive effect in contributing imaginative stuff to our culture.

I simply loathe the crude 1960s distinctions between commerce and art. For me, Warhol and pop obliterated all of those separations – that was the whole point of the Brillo Boxes and Campbell’s Soup Cans. And believe it or not, in 2009, moronic journalists are still saying to me, ‘Your work is so commercial.’

We weren’t art students, but we definitely created our own style and were pretty influenced by Andy Warhol and all the stuff we read and saw and made fun of, you know.

I’ve got a nice collection of paintings – a Basquiat, a black-and-white Warhol that’s like a Rorschach test, and I commissioned Takashi Murakami to do a ten-foot joint for me. It’s almost like the explosion in Hiroshima with his famous skeleton head. There’s a wall above my fireplace reserved for it.

I’d like to think, that were he alive today, Warhol would be painting the Housewives.

25 years ago, when I started in New York, I had the pleasure to cook for Andy Warhol. At the time, I could have traded art for food – I should have done so, because I could get his work for nothing!

I am Warhol. I am the No. 1 most impactful artist of our generation. I am Shakespeare in the flesh.

My favorite era was the ’60s because it was filled with incredible creative newness, from panty hose to landing on the moon to Twiggy and Andy Warhol – I loved them, and they loved to wear my silver clothes.

In 1970, television ate my family. The Andy Warhol prophecy of 15 minutes of fame for any and everyone blew up on our doorstep.

I never really thought of myself as a musician. I’m not saying Sonic Youth was a conceptual-art project for me, but in a way, it was an extension of Warhol. Instead of making criticism about popular culture, as a lot of artists do, I worked within it to do something.

For my art GCSE, I did a screen print of the Queen’s head that was basically an Andy Warhol rip-off, but I didn’t realise.

Andy Warhol made fame more famous.

I’ve often thought – even though it’s hard to give him even more credit than he has had – that Andy Warhol must have started a lot of 15 minutes of fame.

Fame is a modern phenomenon caused by the explosion of media, where there’s a zillion digital channels and snappers everywhere. It’s so attainable, so people can have their Warhol 15 minutes of fame, and some are so aggressive.

Warhol was the ultimate voyeur, constantly observing people through the lens. He watched and listened, but did not participate. Behind the camera, Warhol was in control.

Forgers can start with the same photographic images Warhol did, and sometimes knock off silkscreens only an expert can distinguish from the originals.

The people of Pittsburgh should have a weekend flea market at the Warhol. Andy would have loved that kind of stuff.

I feel when you walk into somebody’s apartment on Fifth Avenue or house in Malibu and you see a Basquiat, a Warhol, a Richard Prince, you say to yourself, ‘$700,000, $2.2 million, $350,000…’ To me that is completely uninteresting. I’d rather go to a house where there’s great art and I have no idea who the work is by.