Gajda
Joseph Gajda
HON 1020
Ashley Prior
February 27, 2016
Andy’s Fifteen Minutes
Tap-tap, tap-tap, tap-tap. It’s four o’clock on a Saturday afternoon, and I’m sitting in the
fifth floor of the Carlson Library. I’m just about to call it a day with this paper. Tap-tap, tap-tap.
The people around me are beginning to give me dirty looks. Tap-tap-tap. My mind is starting to
wander. I have a date tonight, and she and I are discussing where to go. Tap-tap. I text her
“Where do you want to go?” “It doesn’t matter, I’m happy with anything :)” she replies. The
ball is back in my court, and I need an answer. There’s that sushi place by the bookstore. I
assume that’s expensive, but I like her a lot—she’s definitely sushi material. But, then again, this
is only a second date and she might kick me to the curb tomorrow. Maybe someplace cheaper,
like Olive Garden. “Shit!!”, I think to myself. I have read receipts on and I opened the message
ten minutes ago. In a frantic haste, I type out “Let’s try that new sushi place, then!”.
Milliseconds away from tapping “send”, I receive a message. It’s from Emily. “Is it ok if we
don’t get food though? I just got dinner with my sisters”. I’m saved by the bell! I replied with
“Lets get Ice Cream then! Ill pick you up at 6!”. Tap-tap-tap. I proceed to hammer out the last
sentence of the paragraph as the closing track of “The Dark Side of the Moon” finishes. I rip out
my earbuds, close my laptop, and pack my things. A few people stare and watch me leave. “I
suppose I could have typed softer and played Pink Floyd a little quieter”, I think to myself. I
approach the elevators. Instead of thinking about Emily, all I can do is think of repetition. Three
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elevators. Sixteen doors. Billions of white and green coffee cups. Factories and cookie cutters.
“I’ve got to get this dude out of my head”, I think. “No wonder he always seemed so distant”.
Last Saturday, I had to make a choice between proper and casual. More often than not, I
think that casual is more fun because it’s more impulsive. Taking a date to a fancy restaurant is
fun on occasion, but imagine if every date—or even a night out with friends—involved getting
dressed up and going to a five-star restaurant. That would get boring very quickly. At every
fancy restaurant I ever dined at, there was a routine, a pattern—a correct way and an incorrect
way to provide hospitality to guests. There is always a maître d’—this is correct. There are
always multiple courses—this is correct. There are always countless forks—this is correct. The
same holds true for art. There are rules that fine art needs to follow for it to be considered “fine
art”. Just like five-star restaurants, fine art is traditional and predictable. Traditional, “fine” art
follows the rules. The most notable rule in traditional fine art is that mistakes are not tolerated—
there is a correct way and an incorrect way to draw, paint, and sculpt. But why does there need
to be this distinction in such a personal thing? Why does creativity have to have rules? Andy
Warhol asked these questions about seventy years ago, and his answer was to pioneer a new style
of art. This style is called “Pop Art” and is characterized by distortion and repetition, that is,
mistakes. Andy Warhol is an artistic genius who changed the world of art with his brilliant
creativity.
Andy Warhol’s work is directly related to and catalyzed by the changes in society he has
experienced. Warhol lived through almost all of the major events of the twentieth centaury.
Born in 1928, Warhol saw firsthand the Great Depression bring the nation to it’s knees, World
War II and the economic rise of the United States, the uncertainty of the Cold War, the turbulence
of the civil and women’s rights movements, the peace and love of the sixties, and the horrible
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bloodshed of the Vietnam War. The twentieth centaury was definitely a roller coaster of
excellent and terrible things with an underlying focus towards developing the country and
making progress. However, to Warhol, the progress was bittersweet. He became more socially
accepted with time, but it took him away from his childhood—the old, familiar world that he
knew and loved. Warhol was born in a blue-collar industrial Pittsburg neighborhood. He was an
awkward looking homosexual boy who was socially unaccepted. Because Warhol did not have
any friends, he spent his time drawing and roaming the city. He became accustomed to the old
world and the accompanying way of life, specifically the handmade and seldom advertised
goods. Then, as time went on, the old world and its products—made by hand with love and
complete with whimsical artwork—began to disappear due to the post-World War II economic
boom. After WWII, the United States economy was stronger than it had ever been. Production
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