“It’s enough life, it’s time for a little death,” said art critic Henry Geldzahler to Andy Warhol in 1962 (Kamholz). From then on, Warhol commenced to bring the theme of death and to merge it with his already established themes of stardom and consumerism. In the same year, he completed his painting of Marilyn Diptych (1962) – shortly after Marilyn Monroe’s suicide. He painted Silver Liz (1963) when Elizabeth Taylor’s battle with pneumonia was ringing a tone of death at the height of her fame (Suaarez, 128).
Subsequently, Warhol developed a somewhat obsession with death and presented it directly hrough what later became known as Death and Disaster Series – capturing mundane and grotesque deaths in car crashes. This obsession was followed throughout his works, including in his films. However, despite what Geldzahler suggested as abandonment of life in order to pursue the themes of death and mortality, Warhol never abandoned the subject of life.
In fact, within his works lies a concern for life, which Andre Bazin calls a “mummy complex. Bazin states in his seminal essay, “The Ontology of the Photographic Image”, that film “as the image of hings is likewise the image of their duration, change mummified as it were” (8). And Warhol precisely seeks to capture and preserve life on the celluloid of his films. Hence, Warhol’s films hold a paradoxical duality, exhibiting themes of death while preserving and prolonging the duration of life at the same time. In his first film, Sleep (1963), Warhol presents a man (John Giorno) immersed in his vulnerable state of sleep and unconsciousness.
Giorno, who was in a relationship with Warhol at the time, has said that “Warholl’s biggest fear was dying in his leep,” – making the film a battle waged against his own fear of death (Murphy, 19). Warhol’s motivation in facing his fear of death denotes his urge of clinging onto life. Sleep consists of twenty-two shots of long takes, looped and edited into a five- and-a-half-hour film, which gives an illusion of witnessing a continuous take of Giorno while sleeping (Murphy, 19). Warhol manipulates the speed by projecting at 16 frame-per-seconds the footage that was shot at a standard 24 frame-per-second.
As a result, the film slows down in a way that is not quickly oticeable due to minimal actions of the subject within shots. Long takes with stretched duration also helps the audience to search around the frame and examine objects that are normally not noticeable. Furthermore, the long distance between each breath plants the seed of curiosity in the audience’s minds as to whether Giorno is alive or not. In the stretched duration of time, every breath appears to be his last, causing a sense of discomfort and concern in the audience for Giorno’s life.
Sleep exemplifies duality of life and death as themes presented in Warhol’s films. In addition, the way shots are composed and lit contributes in alluding to the symbols associated with death. Warhol’s camera is fixated on fragments of Giorno’s body and face that is illuminated with low key lighting, creating an unrecognizable image at times for the audience to decode. The challenge of decoding shapes and figures formed by harsh shadows, invites the audience to view them differently. Murphy asserts that “through a buildup of extreme black-and-white contrasts, shots of Giorno’s body transform into images of physical decay” (21).
For instance, harsh shadows filling the ocket around his eyes makes Giorno’s face to appear like a – an established symbol of death that is familiar to the audiences across many cultures. Throughout 1963 to 1966, Warhol showed his fascination with human’s facial expression and body language through films such as Screen Tests (1963-66), Blow Job (1964), and Henry Geldzahler (1964). Both Blow Job and Henry Geldzahler can be seen as a feature length spin-off of Warhol’s large collection of living portraits in Screen Tests. The only thing that separates Blow Job from the rest of them is the hint of action that is suggested by its title.
If it wasn’t for its skull provocative title, one could easily perceive it as a part of Screen Tests. In fact, the camera holds entirely on the face of a handsome young man (DeVerne Bookwalter), refusing to answer the audience’s curiosity. However, it is the audience’s preconceived notion that shapes their process of decoding due to the title. Blow Job begins with the film’s head leader projected onto the screen, displaying jolts of light and noise, which periodically dips to black and again flashes back to the light. Then, it slowly fades in to reveal a man whose face is devoured n the shadow.
The opening is similar to all of Warhol’s Screen Tests, and it creates a form of cinematic birth – coming from the darkness towards the light and entering into a realm of unknown. Henceforth, the duration of which the sequence plays out is the span of a lifetime for the subject. Consequently, limitation of the footage makes the film’s tail leader the inevitable death for the sequence and the subject. “Toward the end of the film, there is a moment when shadows completely cover over his eyes in such a way that his face transforms into a human skull” (Murphy 27).
Warhol’s determination to postpone this inevitable death is evident in his habitual technique of projecting at 16 frame-per-second, slowing down and cherishing every moment experienced by the subject. Mummifying the duration in which Bookwalter’s desires are met with release and satisfaction. When Warhol’s films are viewed and broken down in this manner, it becomes clear that even though death and decay are largely present, it is the appreciation of life that dictates his aesthetics and techniques. Empire (1964) displays another form of death – downfall of fame and status.
Empire as shot continuously by Jonas Mikas during the night on “16mm black-and-white- in ten 1200-foot magazine loads” (Murphy 31). Similar to Sleep and Blow Job it is projected at 16 frame-per -second, which extends the time to over eight hours. Warhol saw the Empire State Building as a star and main protagonist of Empire. Positioned it at the center of the frame, surrounded by the darkness of the night, and standing out with lights on is a testament to Warhol’s treatment of the building as one of his “superstars”.
The Empire State Building at the time was the world’s tallest building and an icon standing for American pride and glamour; however, that year the design for the World Trade Center became public (CNN). Hence, the announcement became a herald for the Empire’s fall from its high status. Suddenly, the night around the building becomes a motif for the dark side of fame and inevitable collapse of stardom. Another somber aspect of the building was its dark history with over thirty suicides that were committed from the top of the building (Murphy 30). “ Like a glamorous Hollywood movie star, the building also has a dark side, exerting a gravitational pull on desperate people who want to put an end o their lives” (Murphy 30).
Although the Empire’s status was to be taken over in future, Warhol still captured it with all its glory and height of fame. Warhol’s grandiose eight-hour film is like a gift that celebrates the Empire State Building’s longtime fame and status. Like a Hollywood star, the building stands tall with focus on its lights, which sparkles like a glamorous jewelry. Warhol illustrates that a star, with the caliber of the Empire State Building, should not be remembered for its downfall, but for its achievements and iconic presence.