
There are celebrities whose persona is as famous, if not more so, than their works, or what made them stars in the first place.
Andy Warhol, probably the most important artist to emerge from the 1960s American avant-garde, is one example. His nervous face peering beneath a shock of white hair is as signature as his Campbell soup cans.
It’s clear Warhol wasn’t ashamed to tell the world that he should be reckoned with as a human being, accepted for all that he was, including being gay when that was still relatively taboo.
Laurence Leamer’s well-researched Warhol’s Muses: The Artists, Misfits and Superstars Destroyed by the Factory Fame Machine explores the life of Warhol through that perspective. Like Leamer’s earlier books, about Truman Capote and Alfred Hitchcock, his latest explores an artist’s life through their relationships with women.
The opening “Prologue” begins with Warhol’s getting shot by a woman who targets him for basically deranged reasons. And that’s just the beginning.

