GTFO (get the f*ck offline) #1

And go visit Andy Warhol Three Times Out at The Hugh Lane.

Since you’re signed up for this newsletter, I'll guess you spend a lot of time staring at screens— same here! I work constantly on screens, whether it’s writing, researching for my podcast or editing content, and then after a long day of scrolling, I like to kick back and stare at my screen some more. I don’t bother guilting myself over my screen time, because I know it will be ridiculous, why punish myself every single day? Admittedly it could be lower and I do try to replace it with reading as much as I can, but they make that algorithm so damn tasty! So, I’ve succumbed to the fact that there will be days when I’m in the double digits.

Weekends are a time when I revel in screen-free time; again, this isn’t some ban I enforce upon myself, but for me to really feel like I am "off", I have to be in some way logged out. Whether it's reading a book cover to cover, going out into the real world to soak up some culture or just watching a great movie uninterrupted, I need to pull myself away from the instinct to document everything and turn it into content.

So, although Chronically Online is dedicated to the internet and social media, I thought I’d make a habit to remind you to get the f*ck off the internet! Whether it’s for a day, an afternoon or even a couple of hours. After all, the term is chronically online, not “happily online” or “thriving online”, and the constant drip-feed of information we are all victims of consuming is a one-way street to brain rot. As it is with all chronic illnesses, prevention is better than cure.

My favourite “offline” activity I partook in lately, was going to the new ANDY WARHOL THREE TIMES OUT exhibition at Dublin’s Hugh Lane Gallery.

The exhibition is huge, the biggest collection of Warhol pieces ever to hit Irish soil, but not so big that it’s hard to digest. It spans his entire career, from early magazine illustrations to video installations of Andy Warhol's Fifteen Minutes—a show made for MTV between 1985 and 1987.

I spent four hours inside, taking it all in, wandering through the hallways of Andy’s far-fetched and eccentric mind. Although I was surrounded by people—I visited on opening weekend—it felt incredibly intimate, almost as if I’d broken into his apartment and started rooting through his personal archive.

The first room immediately sets the tone; a small black room filled with silver balloons, kept afloat by large fans in the ground. This is Warhol’s Silver Balloons, the first of which was released into the Manhattan skyline from the Factory in 1965, to mark the end of an era; Andy Warhol was leaving painting behind and becoming a multi-media artistic force.

It’s a piece I’ve seen before and always enjoyed, it forces the visitor to interact with the art in a way that we are unused to. The balloons are filled with a special cocktail of air and helium meaning they will float but also fall, so visitors not only are surrounded by the large silver balloons, but forced to touch them and push them out of their way. It’s not unusual to see people unsure of their next move… can I “touch the art?”, is this art at all? How do I get out of this room? It’s simple, easy to replicate, visually stunning and has a comedic twist—everything that Andy Warhol was all about.

Despite dying long before the invention of social media, Andy was questioning the very same things we are now, via “The Discourse” online. I think this quote from Hugh Lane’s Director, Barbara Dawson, explains why this exhibition and Warhol’s oeuvre is more relevant than ever,

“As society navigates the age of social media and surveillance capitalism – how our data is being captured and monetised- it is impossible to overlook Warhol’s prescient vision so relevant to us today.”

Dr. Barbara Dawson, Director of Hugh Lane Gallery

Typically, criticism of Andy Warhol is directed toward the fact that he “just screen printed onto already existing photos”, that “he didn’t even do the work himself” (because he used assistants) or that his work is pretentious and lacks depth. All of these critiques can be applied to the social media landscape; TikTok is just a competition to recreate someone’s idea in an equally or more engaging manner, there is an entire digital economy based around meme generation where originality is completely meaningless and social media is littered with altruism and vacuous pretension.

I like to think the difference with Warhol is that he was in on the joke, he knew that the next great taboo to break down was originality—every artist before him broke down another genre, from impressionism to cubism to the Renaissance masters. An artist’s purpose is to break down barriers and rebuild the parameters in which art exists, all for the next generation to break it down again. Warhol’s use of American symbols like Campbells Soup, Brillo, Marilyn Monroe and the US Dollar as a form of cultural critique was simple but effective, and if you don’t get it, I’m afraid to tell you that you’re just not in on the joke.

As I meandered through each room, categorising Andy Warhol’s vast catalogue I was struck by just how ahead of his time he was. Walls filled with self-portraits, showing him grow from a young hipster kid, up to the grey-haired, black polo-necked adult we all recognise now—of course, my mind went immediately to the selfie, and how our own ageing process is now self-documented.

The massive wall of Marilyn and Liz Taylor prints, and his general fascination with celebrity made me think of two things:

1) He would have loved TikTok. Everything about TikTok is utterly Warholian. I hate to state the obvious but the parallel between TikTok’s ability to change someone’s celebrity status overnight and Warhol’s infamous quote about how in the future we will all have our 15 minutes of fame, has never been more true than now.

2) Deep down at heart, Warhol was a stan. He definitely did want some of the limelight, but really he projected his love of aesthetics and celebrity onto these great American icons, some he knew like Gerri Hall and some he didn’t, like Marilyn. He was a quiet, shy and nerdy guy whose wit shined through his art. 2023 Andy Warhol would most definitely run a stan Twitter account, I’d imagine for Lana Del Rey because there’s no way in hell Andy Warhol would be a Swiftie, sorry!

My personal favourite part of the exhibition was the latter third.

We are introduced to his video work, and a room filled with “video portraits” took my breath away. These black and white moving pictures—of celebrities who visited the Factory, friends of Warhol’s, blow-ins, and artists—were so captivating. It was as if each person’s essence was bottled into a mini time capsule. Seeing them sit and smile, awkwardly laugh, and smoke a cigarette, was like being in the room with them and seeing them through Andy’s eyes—Edie Sedgwick, of course, being a standout.

We are also introduced to Warhol’s collaborative pieces. Again, my mind went to social media and music, and the thrill that fans get when their favourite YouTubers collaborate or their favourite artists make a song together. That feeling of worlds colliding is only something Stan can appreciate, and again I insist that Warhol was a stan. I couldn’t help but feel a pang of grief viewing the pieces made in collaboration with Keith Haring and Jean-Michel Basquiat—two of the youngest and hippest artists collaborating with the New York Giant that Warhol had become at that stage, all three of whom would die in the following years.

Warhol is often critiqued for these collaborations; cynics claim he was using them for their edginess and coolness, something once assigned to Andy and Andy alone. But isn’t that what all collaborations achieve, especially in the digital economy? Older and better-established artists or content creators will collaborate with the “next big thing”, and both parties get something from it—the more established name will remain relevant, and the fresher face will get a stamp of legitimacy.

Just as I was about to leave the room I saw a poster I had missed on the way in, showing Andy Warhol and Jean-Michel Basquiat dressed as boxers, advertising their now-infamous collaborative Warhol | Basquiat: Paintings exhibition from 1985—Andy Warhol even invented the celebrity/influencer boxing match it seems!

This exhibition ended their friendship and professional relationship; it was reviewed poorly and caused a bitter end to one of the most striking artistic partnerships of the 20th Century. The gossip sites and blind items of 2023 would have run wild with that one.

So there you have it; if you are looking for something to do this weekend (or until January 28th 2024) and you are in Dublin, you know where to go. If you can’t make it to the exhibition but want to learn more about Andy Warhol and his fascinating life, I would recommend you put your phone away and watch The Andy Warhol Diaries on Netflix (it’s incredible). 

If you want to hear more of my thoughts on Warhol, I’ll leave a podcast I did about him below, after watching the Netflix series.