The Andy Warhol Diaries

by Andy Warhol

  Then we went to Studio 54. Truman was there. He goes up into the crow’s nest where the DJ plays the records and it’s like his private office. People come up to see him, and he stays until 8:00. Truman said that Ivan Karp had seen Bob MacBride’s art and said he’d put him in a group show in December of next year.

  Rod and Alana were in the back, I introduced them to the manager. It’s hard to get coke there now, they’re not really selling it. And some guy was sort of bothering me and John Fairchild, Jr. came over and asked if I wanted the guy beaten up, and I really should get to know him better because he must have a bad temper which is always interesting.

  Sunday, January 7, 1979

  It was raining hard. As I was leaving the house John Curry called to thank me for the Shadow painting I sent him. Went to Elaine’s to have dinner with Phyllis Diller (cab $2.50). Barry Landau arranged it so he was there.

  Phyllis was cute, she’s a happy divorcée. Right as I was talking to Phyllis she finally realized that I was the person who’d asked if I could draw her foot in around 1958. She was just starting out then—it may have been at the Bon Soir or someplace, and all these years she never put it together that that was me and this is me, and so she said, “Oh, you’re the foot fetishist!”

  Phyllis didn’t eat much. Tommy Smothers was with us and so was Tommy Tune. He said that Elaine’s had the best food he’d had in so long, and everybody looked at him like he was nuts. He must be.

  Then Adolph Green started coming toward the table with his arms out so (laughs) Barry Landau whispered to Phyllis quickly that she had just sent a bottle of champagne over to him. Because Barry had sent a bottle and signed it from her. And Tommy Smothers was tongue-kissing Phyllis and so I said, “If you can tongue-kiss her, you can tongue-kiss me.” So he gave me a quarter of a tongue-kiss and said he’d give the rest when he knew me better.

  Then we went to Studio 54 and it was very empty. John Fairchild, Jr. was there and he asked to borrow money, so I ripped a hundred-dollar bill in half and that upset him, but it was a memorable moment. And I didn’t realize it at the time, that he probably had his coat on only because he didn’t have enough money to check it.

  And Halston is funny—no matter how many times we run into each other on the floor he grabs me and hugs me and kisses me and says, “It’s so nice to meet you, Mr. Warhol.” Paid John Fairchild, Jr. for bodyguarding me ($20).

  Monday, January 8, 1979

  Vincent called and told me that Mr. Winters had died.

  Did I say that Fred called the office the other day? He wasn’t even in Bogota yet, they were in some small town. He said that he and Rachel Ward fell out of the boat and she wasn’t coming up, but then she did come up. He said it was really dangerous. He’s with three or four Kennedys and Rebecca Fraser.

  Tuesday, January 9, 1979

  I wanted to see The Wiz, so Jed and I cabbed to the Plaza (cab $2, tickets $10). The movie looked so cheap, and they made Diana Ross so ugly and they made Michael Jackson ugly. Sidney Lumet must hate women—he photographed them “up,” you could see right up Lena Horne’s nostrils. She’s his ex-mother-in-law. The play was a lot better, with the Geoffrey Holder dancers.

  Wednesday, January 10, 1979

  Talked to Vincent, he went out to Montauk to see Mrs. Winters. He told her she could stay on if she wanted—she has a son and Mr. Winters had a son, so maybe they can help her and maybe she can stay on there alone.

  Thursday, January 11, 1979

  Fred was back from his trip, very very happy because he lost twenty pounds, he’s back to 120, and sporting a mustache and he looks great, very young.

  He brought me back an emerald, it’s the smallest one I’ve ever seen—blink and you miss it. It’s a tenth of a carat and comes with a certificate and the certificate is really cute.

  Went to dinner at La Grenouille with Phyllis Diller and Barry Landau (cab $4). A lot of people were asking Phyllis for her autograph and not me, and afterwards she (laughs) said to me, “Oh I’m sorry, dear, I felt so bad for you.”

  Friday, January 12, 1979

  Tinkerbelle brought Christopher Walken down to lunch so that she could have a date with him. He’s such a big star now that he really threw me when he said, “A couple of years ago I was Monique Van Vooren’s dancing partner.” (laughs) Isn’t that something? I guess when Monique was doing her act at that room that doesn’t exist anymore. Not the Maisonette, maybe the Rainbow Room. He has a mustache now. He said Monique gave him the name “Christopher.”

  Sunday, January 14, 1979

  Went to the Eberstadts’ for dinner (cab $2). Earl and Camilla McGrath were there, and Sam and Judy Peabody. Somehow Isabel sat in the wrong place, and so everybody’s place card was wrong, and so then Isabel said that everyone should pretend to be the person their place card said. So I pretended to be Isabel—I had her card—and (laughs) I kept excusing myself to go to the bathroom. I guess maybe that was mean.

  Monday, January 15, 1979

  Fred went out to Connecticut to see Peter Brant about possibly buying the Muhammad Ali portfolios. Peter kept him waiting an hour, and then gave him a hard time because he and Joe Allen haven’t made any money yet from their investment in Bad.

  Tuesday, January 16, 1979

  The Shah left Iran. He stopped in Egypt and he’s going to Texas where his son is training for the air force, and then the television said he’s going to stay with the Walter Annenbergs in California. I don’t know what they think they’re doing—they practically showed a road map on television, aerial views of the place.

  Tinkerbelle said how could I tell people that she’d given Chris Walken a blow job and I told her I didn’t tell anybody, that I didn’t even know.

  Thursday, January 18, 1979

  It was the first time I ever saw people actually flying around the streets, it was so windy. Cabbed to Union Square ($3) and that’s where I really saw people in the air. If you were on the sunny side of the street it was nice, beautiful, but then when you’d hit a corner you’d get blown away. People were holding on to things. Went to the office. Stephen Mueller and Ronnie were finishing stretching Shadow paintings for my show next week.

  Saturday, January 20, 1979

  Bob had Brigid helping him all day, writing the text for the photo book, and I mean, they’re crazy—they called me up and read me some of the stuff and they have me talking about Lee Radziwill and Jackie O. in the book as if they’re my best friends. I wanted to throw up. Worked and watched television.

  Sunday, January 21, 1979

  I watched the Superbowl and it was exciting, really good. Jo Jo Starbuck’s husband is Terry Bradshaw of the Steelers and he got two touchdowns in fourteen seconds. She’s the female star in the John Curry show. Then the Cowboys got two more. But the Steelers won. Then Tom Cashin and Jay Johnson came over and they were going to a movie, but I didn’t want to go.

  Tuesday, January 23, 1979

  Cabbed down to Heiner Friedrich’s gallery on West Broadway ($5). Fred wasn’t there yet. Ronnie and Stephen Mueller were there hanging pictures. The show looked good, the gallery’s so big.

  Got to the office about 4:30. Bob was upset because The New York Times had called and said they were interested in reprinting Truman’s column and Truman has the copyright, so Bob is worried that now Truman will start doing it for the Times instead of Interview. But I don’t think Truman would. He probably wants to turn them into a book eventually.

  And Tom Sullivan came by and he was acting crazy. He kept saying that he wanted to give me 25 percent of his business, just for nothing. But what is his business? And he kept saying that everybody thinks he made his money in heroin or cocaine but that it wasn’t those two, that it was something else. But I mean, what else could it be? Marijuana? Catherine’s getting her green card this week. It took three years.

  When I got home Mrs. de Menil had called and left a message that she was very very touched by seeing my show at Heiner’s gallery.

  Thursday, January 25,
1979

  Brigid was down to 120 but I caught her eating in Bob’s office, everything that’s bad for her—fried potatoes, fried scallops, mayonnaise. She was getting ready for the Shadows opening all day, she went home and put on all her jewelry.

  People kept wandering in and out all day. They were sending a limo for me and it came at 5:00. I glued, and took some of the kids down there with me. It was snowing a little.

  It wasn’t too many people at first. Actually, it was a big business gathering. Barbara Colacello had gotten free champagne and Seagram’s and Evian and some other free liquor and drinks, telling them that the society people would be coming down.

  But it turned out that out of the 400 people Bob invited, only 6 came. Six out of 400: Truman Capote, the Eberstadts, Fereydoun Hoveyda, who just resigned as ambassador, and the Gilmans. So 394 of our best friends were no-shows.

  No Halston—he was in Mustique.

  No Steve—he was, too.

  No Catherine.

  It turned out to be more of a punk opening, all the wonderful usual fantasy kids that go to openings like that. And René Ricard was there. Mrs. de Menil came, and she was sweet, and François, he was sweet. But Addie and Christophe de Menil didn’t come. David Bourdon and Gregory Battcock, it was fun to see them, but we didn’t get a chance to talk.

  A lot of kids had their own cameras, they were looking in vain for celebrities to take pictures of. Victor was the only well-dressed person—an umbrella and black pearls.

  The bathroom was crowded, I guess people were coking up. We got a group together to go to dinner—Jed, John Reinhold, John Fairchild, Jr. and his girlfriend Belle McIntyre, William Pitt, and Henry Post. Bob was mad at me for inviting Henry Post, he says he does those exposé-type articles, and maybe he’s right, maybe I will get myself into trouble.

  We were limoing to 65 Irving Place to “65 Irving.” And on the way, near Washington Square, we saw a dog get hit by a cab and a woman was screaming, and we offered her the limo to take the dog to the hospital, but she said her husband was getting the car, and it ruined the whole night. It made me feel funny.

  Philippa invited René Ricard—her Dia Foundation just signed him up for benefits as the first poet—so he arrived at 65 Irving and was saying that my work was just “decorative.” That got me really mad, and I’m so embarrassed, everybody saw the real me. I got so red and was telling him off, and then he was screaming things like that John Fairchild, Jr. was my boyfriend—you know how horrible René is—and it was like one of those old Ondine fights, and everybody was stunned to see me so angry and out of control and screaming back at him. And do you know that René has an agent now? And do you know who that agent is? Gerard Malanga. And I mean, René acts as if he’s such a wonderful writer, but he just has one idea and he keeps repeating it over and over—about how he’s wined and dined by the rich and how you should get things for free, that same old stuff. Luckily Henry Post missed this fight, he was at another table.

  I have another opening on Saturday, this one was just a preview. The show only looks good because it’s so big.

  Friday, January 26, 1979

  Jenette Kahn—she’s the president of D.C. Comics, a friend of Sharon Hammond’s—called and invited me to see the Knicks on Monday because she wants me to paint the floor of the Knicks’ basketball court.

  Paul Morrissey called from California and said that Carlo Ponti called him and offered him a script and Paul said—Paul said he said—that he wouldn’t do a movie for him until he straightened out the money he owes me over Frankenstein and Dracula. Ponti probably thought he could buy Paul off by offering him a movie. Which I’m sure he can. Paul was calling about Bobby De Niro wanting to maybe rent Montauk, and Paul was saying to give him a cheap price so he’d be sure to take it because it’d be great to have him there, but I think we should raise the price—we’re not making enough renting Montauk to run it.

  Saturday, January 27, 1979

  This was the day I had to go back to Heiner’s gallery for the real opening.

  And it’s so great, such a great feeling, when people ask me how many of the paintings have been sold, to just be able to say, “They’re all sold.”

  Governor Rockefeller died.

  Sunday, January 28, 1979

  Got up early and my bones ached from standing so long the day before, greeting 3,000 people. Fred called and invited me to mix with the Kennedys at his place at 10:00 before the Studio 54 party for Pilar Crespi. And Tom Cashin came by to take me to a models party, but I was too worn out.

  I saw a little of Taxi Driver on TV and the guy at the end reading the letter from Pittsburgh really sounded like he was (laughs) reading from Pittsburgh.

  Oh, and on the news the lady who hijacked the plane said she had nitroglycerin and wanted Charlton Heston and Wonder Woman to read her letter on TV? She looked like a normal schoolteacher … she was from California. There were some famous people on that flight—the Jackson 5’s father and the guy who was with Mary Martin in Sound of Music on Broadway.

  Monday, January 29, 1979

  Rupert came to the office and I gave him a talk about going around telling people that he does my paintings. But he’s drinking too much so he still thinks he does them. Went to Madison Square Garden (cab $3). Jenette Kahn wanted me to meet Sonny Werblin who is the president of Madison Square Garden to talk to him about painting the floor for the Knicks. Just like Bob Indiana did for his home team out in Indiana. We talked to Sonny and he said it sounded like a good idea. He asked to see the floor that Bob Indiana had done and Jenette has already sent away for pictures of it. The game was boring. The Knicks are slow, they’re a good team but they’re too slow, they miss so many baskets—the other team got every basket they tried for.

  Then I had to take Jenette to dinner and she said she’d like to go to Trader Vic’s. Had to do small talk for a couple of hours. I think she has a crush on me. She’s intelligent and glamorous with big tits, a good head. And she’s very organized. She can spell things out. I’m convinced that if you can spell things out very simply and say everything clearly right away, you’ll be a success in business. Like Bob Denison can do that. And Jenette does it with charm, she comes right out direct and says things—like what we wanted from Sonny Werblin.

  And on that plane that was hijacked was also Joe Armstrong, Sue Mengers, Max Palevsky, Theodore Bikel, and Dino Martin, Jr. How did they avoid the camera? Sue had the best line: “If anything happens to me, take care of my coat.”

  Tuesday, January 30, 1979

  I gave Rupert another talk about saying he does my paintings for me and he decided that he shouldn’t drink again for a while.

  David Whitney was telling me that the house on 54th Street where Nelson Rockefeller died was the house he used for having fun. Diana Vreeland was funny the other night, she said, “Of course Nelson was with a girl—he was always with a girl. Nelson wanted everyone to be happy. And why not? He was a Rockefeller—he could make everybody happy.” Then somebody said, “But what about Happy?”

  Wednesday, January 31, 1979

  I worked all afternoon. Then cabbed all the way down to Delia Doherty’s fashion show at Lafayette and Canal Street ($5). She had paper clothes made out of tubing. The girls had to be rolled in, they couldn’t walk or talk. It was absolutely great. Jane Forth was there, she was just back from South America doing the makeup on a movie with Carol Lynley. Jane said that she’s going back to makeup school because you can make more doing scars and burns than straight makeup. She’s got a fat ex-lady cop who takes care of Emerson, the baby she had with Eric Emerson. He’s eight or nine now. He’s taking ballet lessons, he’s following in his father’s footsteps.

  Friday, February 2, 1979

  John Reinhold called in the morning and said he’d like to take me to his wife’s gallery on 78th Street (cab $2). She just went off to Europe to look for some more posters and things. The gallery had a wonderful exhibition of old movie posters, like Garbos from the twenties, the huge beau
tiful posters that were printed in German, they’re about 8’ x 10’—things like the original King Kong and Charlie Chaplin. I always bought the smaller American movie posters and they’re just not worth anything. The original Cassandre posters are selling for $35,000. Can you believe it? And when I think of how I let them slip through my fingers. A print of one is about $5,000 or $10,000. Posters. Can you believe it?

  Had lunch at that place called Three Guys on Madison and 75th and it’s a really good sandwich shop, a lot of kids came in, there must be a school right around there. And there was a girl behind us using “shit” and “fuck” to her mother, and whatever the mother would say to her, the kid said, “You are insulting me, mother,” and you just wanted to slap her and kick her a few times —a little snot-nose. She was about fourteen and the mother was about thirty-five, and her mother was crying. You know when you get your mother and you really put the screws in? Well, this kid was doing it, she was disgusting. Then I dropped John at his office and went down to Union Square (cab $4.50).

  Sunday, February 4, 1979

  I was mentioned in a Victorian Art article in The New York Times magazine section by Hilton Kramer, who put me down.

  Monday, February 5, 1979