Warhol’s grave


Upon viewing the live webcams established between EarthCam, The Andy Warhol Museum, and St. John Chrysostom Byzantine Catholic Church in Pittsburgh, I am left a bit speechless, and I wonder what other people feel or think after viewing cyberdized bookends of Andy Warhol’s life.

It is past 10:00PM here in Siem Reap, Cambodia, yet I was allowed as if by magic to hear car traffic unlike any I have heard in over a decade and listen to tiny birds chirp as I viewed three Campbell’s soup cans atop and little American flags wave near Andy Warhol’s grave at what I calculate to be 11:00AM on a normal Monday morning in May in Pennsylvania.

After I realized I could possibly stare at this very exotic scene indefinitely, I then viewed the live feed set up within the very church a young and very ill Andy Warhol would sit in with his devout mother for as long as eight hours a day, and I saw the same iconostasis that Warhol would sit in front of and stare at for hours on end. I can now easily understand how all of the themes explored in Warhol’s artistic works from death and celebrity to religion might easily have their roots in the repetitive rituals of his childhood. The music was peaceful and eery and very different from anything here in Cambodia.

If you have not visited this website, be prepared for subtlety, contemplation, and the infinite luxury of boredom in which Warhol himself claimed to pursue and relish.

I am going back tomorrow during my four hour long (Cambodian) lunch break to consider analyzing Warhol’s 1986 hand-painted Last Supper Dove as my final writing assignment for the Warhol massive online open course I have been engaging in through the University of Edinburgh.





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