Andy Warhol. Life, Death and Beauty

As the 1980’s began, Andy Warhol and I decided that we would collaborate together on a project. Impatient as I was, there was one thing I was sure of. We should do something unique, without imitating anything that had been done before by Andy, whose work by then was world-famous. Later in the 80’s Andy would collaborate on painting projects with other friends in our circle like Keith Haring and Jean Michel Basquiat. But my collaboration with Andy was about photography.

Andy and I both loved the surrealists, especially Duchamp, Dali, and Man Ray. I knew that some people considered Andy to be a latter day Dadaist and I saw that I should take as my starting point the famous photograph of 1921 in which Man Ray portrayed Duchamp, wearing a woman’s hat and dress. They had called this collaboration “Rrose Selavy”

It was clear that any collaboration would have to explore our own cultural references and not just express a copy of the Rrose Selavy work from 60 years before. I wondered how to walk this fine line between the, “theft” of quotation and the “creativity” of finding inspiration in another’s work.

I often approach a problem by trying to think how Man Ray would suggest I solve it. And it was then that I understood how my project with Andy should be done. The photos made by Man Ray and Duchamp were particularly noir, dark and somber, yet Andy was the whitest person I have ever met. Suddenly everything was very clear: The photos would be as white as his skin! Making something white into something even whiter is a solution I think Man Ray would have liked.

When we started the project, Halston suggested a sequined evening dress that we didn’t feel was right. We didn’t want a “drag” act. We decided to photograph the face and hair, keeping the usual Andy uniform of the day: jeans, button down shirt, checkered tie and cowboy boots. We were sure the facial make up and wig would be a good contrast with tie and jeans, which in turn would tone down the female caricature.

It was clear we need some new wigs. This was easy. Andy already had a wig-maker in New York, Jacques D’Arcell. Andy took me to his fancy 57th St. shop one day, after one of Andy’s customary working lunches at the 860 Broadway Factory. We were led to a private dressing room where Andy tried on various wigs and, as we couldn’t decide which one to take, he bought seven different ones. It was surprising to see how someone’s appearance could be altered by woman’s wig or even a simple man’s wig. It was in that shop on 57th Street that the project took definitive shape and “Altered Image” was born.

The first day of the photo session arrived, and it was only then that we realized that a bit of make-up and a studied expression would not be enough to transform a man into a reference of woman. So we decided to have two different sessions: In the first one Andy came made up in the same way as the women whose portraits he did for commissions. In those photos he has the same lost expressions of the rich women he was always photographing. These are the arch-typical collectors/ collector’s wives, later to be parodied so well by Cindy Sherman. I included these photographs, knowing that they would become only richer with time. Then there were the glamour sessions. With the help of a professional theater make-up artist, Andy became an extraordinary, “Altered Image”.

The whole shoot involved eight wigs, two day of posing, sixteen contact sheets, 349 shots. We mixed stylistic elements together to express a new, ambiguous sexuality and gender confusion that had been developing in American culture since the Stonewall uprising in 1969. Considering the emotional state of culture throughout the world in 2013, the “Altered Image” works, created in 1981, continue to speak eloquently to the contemporary viewer. For me they continue to remind me of Man Ray, my great inspiration, and Andy Warhol, my great model and friend.

Christopher Makos July 2013 New York City