by Andy Warhol
We got to Diane Von Furstenberg’s. Diana Ross was there, she looked great. Diana Vreeland was there, too, and Diana—she’s getting too tough to talk to.
Richard Gere was there, and everyone was talking about the Vincent Canby putdown of American Gigolo in the Times. But he said he was cheered up because there were lines around the block, so maybe it’ll be a hit.
Paul Schrader was there, and Catherine got a thing for him and stayed after I left, but then it turned out she only stayed just a little bit, so nothing happened with that. Berry and Tony Perkins were there. Mr. and Mrs. Helen Gurley Brown were there and she got Truman into a corner. He left the party early, he said he was (laughs) tired of people telling him their personal lives.
Monday, February 4, 1980
I had to rush down to the office at 11:30. Jean Kennedy Smith was going to be there with Kerry Kennedy to pick out Ted Kennedy campaign posters (cab $4). Had to be photographed, they had the whole press there.
Sunday, February 10, 1980—Zurich
At the Dolder Grand Hotel Bruno Bischofberger woke us up at 11:30. He was waiting to take Fred and me to my first portrait job. We went to this small little house—it was like going into some Lower East Side house—and there was a mother and three children and Fred said one of them was really cute, but I didn’t notice. They had corduroy pants on and torn shirts. Fred asked for orange juice and they gave him canned orange juice. The mother was just a little mother. The furniture was old and worn. There was not one thing in the place that looked rich. It looked so poor I just wanted to give them the portrait free. They were very nice but I just couldn’t believe they could afford this. We were all stunned, but Bruno was saying you can’t tell about the Swiss, the Swiss hide all their money.
Monday, February 11, 1980—Zurich
Slept late and then Thomas Ammann woke me up to do a portrait. A beautiful wife with a fat husband. I said she didn’t need makeup. She was easy to do because she was a raving beauty. Her husband tells her she’s ugly—Thomas says that’s how Swiss people treat their wives because they never want them to get too secure. We gave them a book and an Interview and we sent out the film. It’s so hard to find anything but SX-70 film here, they’re phasing the other out. We bought English papers which I paid for ($5).
We had lunch downstairs in the restaurant with Loulou de la Falaise Klossowski and her husband Thadée and Thomas. We signed for it. The food was good. The place was so beautiful with a view of the lake and the mountains. We were the only people there and the sun was beating through the window on our backs. It’d been hailing in the morning. The weather has been so strange. Loulou told us that YSL really was such a genius that he just can’t take it, he has to take a million pills and the whole office gets so depressed when he’s depressed except for her. She said she acts happy no matter what. That’s why she gets sick, because she’s always trying to act happy and it’s really a lot of stress on her liver. She hasn’t had a drink in a year and a quarter but she doesn’t think cocaine is bad. I do, though. We talked about her stepfather, John McKendry. She said he had so many boyfriends. His idea of marrying Maxime was fantasizing that her son Alexis was going to live at home with them and that he could have an affair with him. But the son immediately got married and moved to Wales. Then he envisioned Loulou being there bringing home pretty boys every minute that he could fuck. And actually he did steal her boys.
Loulou said John McKendry was actually killing himself slowly because he’d always fantasized how great and romantic and wonderful and literary the aristocracy must be. Then when he met them, and married a countess—her mother—and got to meet Jackie O. and people like that every day through his job at the Met, he realized they were just normal dumb people like everybody else. There was nothing left for him to live for. Of course I think that Maxime just drove him crazy. I couldn’t say that to Loulou, though. Then we took a cab downtown ($10.50).
Thursday, February 14, 1980—Dusseldorf
We had to take Hans Mayer’s car and drive out to the country to a small town to photograph a German butcher. His company is called Herta, it’s one of the biggest sausage companies in Germany. He was a cute guy. He had this interesting building. You could see all the employees. He had my Pig on the wall. Junk everywhere. A lot of toys. A lot of stuffed cows, stuffed pigs. Pigs, pigs, pigs all over the place. And there was art. There were funny things hanging from the ceiling. There were water-dripping paintings. He buys a lot of art, he said they sell more sausages that way because the people are very happy. Then he gave us a white smock and white hat. We went through and watched the ladies make the sausages. It was really fun. You could smell the sauerkraut cooking, but they didn’t give us any hot dogs there. He had the whole portfolio of Picasso that I did the Picasso print of Paloma in. We looked at that, then we had to look at more pigs and more salamis and more hams and more ham art.
Then we took Polaroids for the portrait and had some tea. And his wife came by. They didn’t offer us lunch. Then all of a sudden he asked us if we’d like to try one of his hot dogs. They cooked some up and we had two apiece. One white one and one black one. They were really good. We had them with mustard. He said he had to go have lunch back at the lunch room. We had to go off without lunch which we thought was really strange. We got in the car and drove to a restaurant in a place called Bottrop.
As soon as we came in they told us it was this crazy day where all the women chase the men. They cut off your ties. But since we knew that was happening—we saw these drunken ladies running around—we took our ties off and hid them in our pockets. But then they got my shirt tail and they cut it off and it was my good shirt and I was so mad. These women were really bullies. We got back in the car and drove back to Hans’s gallery. I was so tired, and I was really upset about my shirt.
Monday, February 18, 1980—New York
I was jetlagged and overslept. I made the kids come in to work on the holiday because they’d been loafing for two weeks while I was gone, but it turned out the building wasn’t open and the heat wasn’t on. And the discotheque on the ground floor is still being built, they had the nerve to send me an invitation to the opening. They broke the elevator and it wasn’t working, and I think the no heat is something to do with them, too.
Ronnie’s trying to memorize his big role in the Walter Steding extravaganza performance coming up soon somewhere downtown, and since I’m Walter’s manager, I should find out where it is.
It was great to be back. I thought it’d be forty degrees, but it turned out to be still twenty. I wandered around and passed out Interviews, then got a cab to Union Square ($3.50). The heat finally came up in the front, but it was still cold in the back. Brigid was working on the same piece of paper she was working on when I left. I mean, she thought I wouldn’t recognize it?
And I just don’t know where to paint anymore now that Interview has taken over my old room. David who works for Interview was finished painting it ($50 to David for paint).
Tuesday, February 19, 1980
I got up before 9:00 to watch the Today Show and try to figure out why Gene Shalit hasn’t used the thing he did on me. He’ll use it after I die, he’ll say, “I spoke with Andy Warhol in 1980 and here is that clip.” I must be a really terrible guest. I mean, I must be too weird for TV because it’s always the same thing—they never know what to do with it. Well, the 20/20 thing that Karen Lerner shot during the Exposures tour is supposed to be on next week. The twenty-eighth.
We had office pizza lunch ($5).
Oh, and this guy from New York called about the first part of Popism that they’re running on the cover. Wouldn’t it be great if the book was a big hit and we didn’t have to work to promote it?
Ron Feldman came down and we looked at the Ten Jews. It’s really such a good idea to do that, they’re going to sell. And all the Germans want portraits. Maybe because we have a good person selling there, Hans Mayer. How come we don’t get many American portraits?
And I forgot to say th
at when I was walking along University Place a kid stuck his head out of a car window and said, “Aren’t boys cuter in cars?”
Thursday, February 21, 1980
Did I ever say that a couple of weeks ago Bianca asked us about the night she gave Bob a ride home from Halston’s after he threw up in the sink? Bob was sort of shocked that she would bring it up. This is the night we saw the chauffeur getting out of the back part of the limo. Bob said he told her, “Well, Bianca, you just took me home. Everyone called me up the next morning and said how it was nice of you to stay with me for an hour and a half. I said you hadn’t been with me. They told me they found you and the chauffeur in the back seat together.” She said that she just passed out after she dropped Bob off because Mick had given her three vodkas in a row at the Erteguns’ house and that she got so excited at seeing him there that the vodkas just made her black out. She said that the chauffeur was in the back with her really just trying to wake her up. And Bianca told me she was never jealous of Jerry, that she knows Mick is with Jerry because he’s into a real sex trip right now. And I said, “Well, Jerry told us that she gives Mick a blow job before she lets him out of the house,” and Bianca said, “Why didn’t you put that in her interview?” I said, “Because you were mad enough at us for putting her in Interview in the first place, let alone if we had her talking about sex with Mick.” Bianca said she wouldn’t care, she said the only girlfriend of Mick’s she ever got jealous of was Carly Simon, because Carly Simon is intelligent and has the look Mick likes—she looks like Mick and Bianca.
Richard Weisman asked me if I wanted to meet Stallone and have lunch with him on Friday on the set of his movie. He said Stallone may want his portrait done.
Some Japanese journalist came by. He’d gone with us in Japan from Tokyo to Kyoto, copying me by taping the trip, but nothing was said (laughs). The Japanese Warhol. So he was in town and I thought I would give him some material to write about since his last time with us wasn’t much, so I took him with me and we went to Madison Square Garden to the antique show (cab $3). And in the cab I said, “Where’s your tape recorder?” and he pulled it out of his bag—it was the only thing in the bag, this tape recorder running—but it turned out that it was running slow and the batteries were no good, and he was just crushed, he couldn’t believe it and he said, “Oh Jesus Christ, oh Jesus, oh Christ, oh Jesus, oh God, oh Christ,” and I said, “Well, there’s your interview.” But it was sad, he felt so bad, and I said, “Oh, you can remember.” Anyway, we got to Madison Square Garden and it was really great, I couldn’t believe all the junk (tickets were 2 x $4 = $8). Ran into Tony Bill.
Friday, February 22, 1980
Richard Weisman called and said lunch with Stallone was on for 12:30.
Oh, and I forgot to say that Truman called. He said that he was hit by a fat skier when he was walking across a ski slope in Switzerland. He sounded more like his old self. I guess he’s in a good mood because Lester gave him $450,000 for his thing from Interview, “Hand-Carved Coffins.” We don’t get anything out of it, though.
We went to where Stallone was shooting on First Avenue, they had about 300 extras. The movie’s called Hawks, I think, and Martin Poll is the producer, he’s the one who took Stallone to my Whitney portrait show. Martin and his wife were there. They had huge crowds there. The set decorator came over and said that he’d been the set decorator on Bad.
We went to a restaurant near there. I guess they sent one person out all morning to look for a quiet place for the director to have lunch. It was Richard and Martin Poll and his wife and Stallone and me. Stallone is so cute, so adorable. I guess he’s lost sixty pounds. He’s sexy. All the stars usually think they should have their portraits done free, though. He’s intelligent, he’s taken over directorship of the movie and now he’s in trouble because the union has a film of him saying, “Lights, action!” It’s going before a board. Stallone was telling stories about how much trouble he’s had with the union, how there’s this little Irish guy that he just wants to beat up so badly. He said he had this one shot all set up, everybody was in costume and makeup with blood and everything for a fight scene and it was snowing, just perfectly and they said, “Okay, stop, everybody break for dinner,” and he said he practically got down on his knees pleading, “Please, just let’s get this one shot, please, I’m a fellow worker, please, I’m Rocky!” and they wouldn’t let him. They broke for dinner and then he had to start all over again.
I said to him how could he go and tell the papers the truth—that he wasn’t having an affair with Bianca. I told him he should have said he was, that he should have gone for the glamour. He said he and Bianca were “just breaking each other’s balls.” I don’t know what that means. He told us that he’d gone over to pick her up and she was wheezing and had a cold and she looked so horrible that the romance fell apart right there. But he probably doesn’t like Latin types, I think he likes big blondes. His manager loved us because Interview had just done a story on his only other client, Ray Sharkey. Then we left (cab $3).
Afterwards Martin Poll’s wife called, she said she was calling for a favor to Stallone and wanted a discount, but I mean, he’s so rich.
Monday, February 25, 1980
I picked up a couple of fans in the morning. One said he wrote in for me in the last presidential election.
I ordered some Popism books from Harcourt Brace, they make good presents. I worked all afternoon waiting for Philippa de Menil and Heiner Friedrich to come to dinner. They wanted to have a candlelight dinner at 860, they said. I can’t figure them out, they’re strange, they don’t like to go out. We’re trying to sell them some new stuff. Rupert brought some prints by. Heiner and Philippa came. I showed them the work. Robyn brought food from 65 Irving and put it in the stove. He stayed on to be the butler. Philippa doesn’t eat anything, but at this dinner she ate everything, so either she’s nervous when she’s out at restaurants and doesn’t eat or she was nervous at 860 and did eat or else she was just hungry for the first time. I can’t figure it out. She even ate two pieces of banana pie. She was fun. Robyn got a good assortment.
They asked why we didn’t come to La Monte Young’s concert, their Dia Foundation supports him. I didn’t tell them that I just couldn’t face hearing one note. Heiner and Philippa are just back from Turkey. Oh, and they sent the whole Whirling Dervishes to Dr. Giller for acupuncture. All of them. They said they still haven’t found a good building for a Warhol museum. The Dia Foundation is going to make one. The owner of the red building next door to us wants $300,000 just to rent.
Wednesday, February 27, 1980
Truman called the other day and said he wouldn’t be giving in any more articles. He said it was because he was going to give us Answered Prayers when it was finished in October. I told Bob he was just lying. He’s a different person now, Truman, he’s dropped us and I can’t figure out why.
At the office Jill Fuller called and said she’d rented the helicopter to take us out to the Nassau Coliseum to see Pink Floyd, they’re friends of hers. I called Catherine who’s working for Richard Weisman now and she got excited about the helicopter so I got my courage up and thought it might be fun.
And the guy downstairs said the disco is opening on Thursday night and he was leaving my name at the door. They turned the music on yesterday and it was so loud, everything was just shaking, and I could hear them through the elevator shaft screaming, “Louder, louder!” and it was just so loud already you couldn’t believe it.
Picked up Catherine (cab $4). Went to Jill’s. Jill gave us a bottle of champagne and we took a cab to get the helicopter (cab $3). It was a beautiful beautiful ride, we drank the champagne. Four limos were waiting.
Then they started the show and this show is so complicated and expensive that they’re only able to do it in California, New York, and London. It’s big statues like the Macy’s parade.
Thursday, February 28, 1980
Picked up Catherine, cabbed to Harry Bailey’s on East 72nd Street (
$2). It used to be George Gershwin’s apartment. Barbara Rose was there with her husband, the “Hound Dog” guy, Jerry Leiber, and she’s so horrible. She’s the worst person, she comes over and says things like, “Oh, I love your new writing style that you didn’t write.” I mean, what makes people do things like that? They must be sick. She was just the worst-dressed woman there, she looked so awful. I should have said to her, “I love your clothes.” I’ve got to start thinking faster. I don’t know why Harry would want to have dinner with Barbara Rose unless he thought she knew what art he should be buying.
Friday, February 29, 1980
We had Toiny Castelli and her assistant and Iolas and Brooks and Adriana Jackson at the office for lunch. Toiny wants to give me a print show. And Iolas is opening a new gallery.
Studio 54 lost its liquor license—they had pictures in the paper of Sylvester Stallone getting the last drink from the bar—and Steve’s other restaurants on Long Island lost theirs, too.
Saturday, March 1, 1980