Jim Morrison and Andy Warhol`s Factory
Posted 21 August 2007 - 04:26 PM
Famed for its groundbreaking parties, the Factory was the hip hangout for artsy types, amphetamine users, and the Warhol superstars. This is where Warhol's workers would make silkscreens and lithographs. (...)
In order to continue working the way he did, he assembled a menagerie of porn stars, drag queens, drug addicts, musicians, and free-thinkers that became known as the Warhol superstars, to help him. These "art-workers" helped him create his paintings, starred in his films, and basically developed the atmosphere that the Factory has become legendary for. (...)
The Factory (also) became a meeting place of artists and musicians such as Lou Reed, Bob Dylan, Truman Capote and Mick Jagger. Other, less frequent visitors included Dawna Benanchietti and Salvador Dalí and Allen Ginsberg. Warhol collaborated with Reed's influential New York rock band The Velvet Underground in 1965, and designed the famous cover for The Velvet Underground & Nico, the band's debut album (...)
source: The Factory
Was Jim hanging out with these guys? Did he ever visit Warhol`s Factory?
I`ve found some information about Jim and Warhol, but it`s very fragmentary...
In the Oliver Stone movie, Jim is brought to the Factory to meet Andy who greets Morrison like the returning prodigal son. The camera focuses on a golden telephone, which Warhol picks up and holds out to Morrison saying: "Somebody gave me this telephone... I think it was Edie... yeah it was Edie... and she said I could talk to God with it, but uh... I don't have anything to say... so here... (giving Jim the phone) this is for you... now you can talk to God."
Strange scene, isn`t it!? I don`t like the O.S.-movie very much but the God-Phone-scene is great! But I doubt that it really happened... Did Jim ever get this God-Phone? I don`t think so... this is fiction, isn`t it?
But I have heard that the girl - the one who gave Warhol the God-phone in the movie - Edie Sedgwick, was hanging out with Jim Morrison in California. Can anyone confirm this?
Edie - a socialite and heiress from California - was one of Warhol`s muses, a member of the Factory and an actress who starred in many Warhol films in the 60`s. She died at the age of 28 (barbiturate overdose).
source: Edie Sedgwick
I also found this:
"NOVEMBER 1966:THE DOORS PLAY ONDINE
The Doors came to New York for the first time and played at the nightclub, Ondine.
Andy Warhol: “Gerard (Malanga) took one look at JIM MORRISON in leather pants just like his and he flipped. ‘He stole my look!’ he screamed, outraged."
Jim Morrison had seen Gerard Malanga performing earlier that year at The Trip in L.A., as part of the Exploding Plastic Inevitable.
Morrison was supposed to be the star of Andy Warhol's first "Blue" (porn) movie. According to Warhol, Morrison had "agreed to bring a girl over and fuck her in front of the camera but when the time came, he never showed up.” "
(Gerard Malanga was Warhol`s assistant and the Exploding Plastic Inevitable was a series of multimedia events organized by Andy Warhol between 1966 and 1967, featuring musical performances by The Velvet Underground & Nico, screenings of Warhol's films, and dancing and performances by regulars of Warhol's Factory, especially Gerard Malanga and others.)
source: Warhol Chronology
That`s a strange story, too! ...Jim as an actor in one of Warhol`s strange movies...in a porn movie!
Well, that`s what I`ve found about Jim and Warhol. I can`t imagine that Jim was hanging out with these guys too often but I am sure he knew Warhol and the Factory.
Do you have any further information about Jim, Warhol and the Factory?
I am curious!
Posted 21 August 2007 - 06:22 PM
Posted 21 August 2007 - 06:30 PM
I see! Thank you, Mewsical!
Did you ever meet one of these Factory-people?
Must have been a weird troup!
Posted 22 August 2007 - 02:41 PM
Posted 22 August 2007 - 05:51 PM
"Who was Edie Sedgwick? She was a strikingly pretty young woman with a genius for self-destruction. Her pedigree and her rap sheet conspire to prove that truth can be as compelling as the most lurid novel: daughter of a distinguished, disturbed New England family; evanescent superstar of Andy Warhol's underground movies; blitzed-out druggie; a careless suicide at 28. The glamour, the abuse, the aristocracy of decadence—my dear, it's just too delicious.
Delicious and, like amphetamine candy, addictive. One gobbles up the testimony in Edie, culled by Jean Stein and George Plimpton from interviews with some 250 people who crossed paths or swords with the poor little rich girl. An awful fascination obtains to the book's elegant gossip. See Norman Podhoretz, editor of Commentary and hitman of the double-domed Right, dance wickedly on the grave of one of Edie's ancestors. Recall the night that Rock Star Jim Morrison paid sexual obeisance to Jimi Hendrix on the stage of Steve Paul's nightclub, the Scene. Watch Warhol shrug as a woman invades his Factory, takes out a pistol and shoots a hole through the foreheads of seven stacked Marilyn Monroe portraits—just a few years before Andy himself would be shot by another female intruder. Gobble gobble. Yum yum. "
Posted 22 August 2007 - 06:20 PM
Excerpts that include Morrison/Doors:
"The image the Velvets (aka Velvet Underground), had of themselves as a rock group hadn't included Nico originally – they didn't want to turn into a backup band for a chanteuse. But Ironically, Lou ( Reed) wrote the greatest songs for her to sing – like "Femme Fatale" and "I'll be Your Mirror" and "All Tomorrow's Parties" – her voice, the words, and the sounds the Velvets made all were so magical together.
The Trip was a club on Sunset Strip that Donovan had told us about the last time he'd been up to the Factory, and right after that, a manager named Charlie Rothchild had mentioned to Paul he could get a booking for the Velvets there from May 3 to 29. (1966) So Paul went out ahead of us to scout things and wound up renting the Castle from Jack Simmons, an actor with real estate savvy, for the Velvets to stay in. Back at the Factory, we packed up the whips and chains and strobes and mirrored ball and followed.
After the Velvets opened, a lot of people wondered if they could last the full three weeks, and the critics wrote things like, "The Velvet Underground should go back underground and practice." But the Velvets in their wraparound shades and tight striped pants went right on playing their demented New York Music, even though the easygoing LA people just didn't appreciate it; some of them said it was the most destructive thing they'd ever heard. On opening night, a couple of the Byrds were in the audience, and Jim Morrison, who looked really intrigued, and Ryan O'Neal and Mama Cass were there, kicking up their heels. We read a great comment by Cher Bono the next day in one of the newspapers and we picked it up for our ads – "It will replace nothing, except maybe suicide." But Sonny seemed to like it all– he stayed on after she left.
In November (1966) the Doors came to New York for the first time and they played at Ondine. When we walked in, Gerard took one look at Jim Morrison in leather pants just like his and he flipped. "He stole my look!" He screamed, outraged. It was true enough – Jim had, I guess, picked it up from seeing Gerard at The Trip.
The girls all went crazy over Jim Morrison – the word got around fast that there was a group with this very cute, very sexy lead singer. The Doors were at Ondine because, according to Ronnie Cutrone, who should know – he hung out there enough – the girl who played the records, Billie, knew them from LA.
After the Doors and the Buffalo Springfield played Ondine, the image of the place went from chic to rocking, and groupies started hanging out there, beautiful girls like Devon and Heather and Kathy Starfucker.
It was obvious just from watching these kids operate that there were new sex maneuver codes. The girls were only interested in the guys that didn't go after them. I saw a lot of hirls pass on Warren Beatty, who so good-looking, just because they knew he wanted to fuck them, and they'd go looking for somebody who looked like he didn't want to, who had "problems."
When you walked in Ondine, on the right was the coat check, on the left was a red leather couch, then a narrow strip with tables in it, and then the back room that was the dance floor, with the record booth at the end of it. Jim Morrison got to be regular there, and the Doors played there again a few times the following spring. Jim would stand at the bar drinking screwdrivers all night long, taking downs with them, and he'd get really far gone – he'd be totally oblivious – and the girls would go over and jerk him off while he was standing there. One night Eric and Ronnie had to actually carry him out to a cab and take him home to where he was staying the West Forties.
Jim was suppose to be the star of my first "blue movie" – he'd agreed to bring a girl over and fuck her in front of the camera – but when the time came, he never showed up. He was always very sweet to me, though – in fact, I never saw him be anything but sweet to anybody.
On August 4 (1967) the designer Betsy Johnson, who was no engaged to John Cale, had a party for "The Return Of Leo: at her place on West Broadway. There was dancing – lots of the Rascals ("Groovin") and Aretha Franklin ("Respect") and the Jefferson Airplane ("Somebody To Love"). Every time the Doors' "Light My Fire" went on- which it did a lot, the long version – Gerard's expression went sour. He'd never gotten over the fact that Jim Morrison copied his leather look, never mind that he'd made a pop hit: the more famous Jim Morrison got, the more cheated Gerard felt.
Jim had just been down in town playing the Scene and he was suppose to be in our movie, I. A Man. That summer Nico, who we were always trying to get to do a feature-length movie with us, finally said, "All right. I'll do a movie for you, but it has to be with Jim. She a big crush on him then. When she asked him he said sure; he said he knew all about underground movies, that he'd been a film student and all that. But then Nico showed up with a Hollywood actor named Tom Baker instead. "Jim's manager told him he can't do it." she said, "but this is a good friend of Jim's from LA and he wants to," and we thought why not.
We'd finished shooting I, A Man a few days before the party at Betsy's and it was scheduled to go into the Hudson Theatre very shortly (our last movie to play there was My Hustler) I, A Man was a series of scenes of this guy, Tom, seeing six different women in one day in New York, having sex with some, talking with some, fighting with some.
Max's Kansas City – New York 1967: Joe Dallesandro was in Max's that night, across from Jim Morrison, who'd come in with a pretty new girl. At another table was Billy Sullivan and Matty – two Brooklyn kids – talking to Amy Goodman – her father owned Marvel Comics – and Matty was telling them that people shouldn't have houses anymore, that they should just have "rest depots." And right beyond them was Jimi Hendrix with one of those beautiful black girls – Devon or Pat Hartley or Emeretta, I can't remember which one, they were all friends. At about three in the morning, Andrea came tearing into the back room in a velvet mini-skirt up to her crotch and a big-brimmed velvet hat. She climbed up onto the big round table where we were sitting, ripped her blouse open, and screamed, "It's Show Time! And everything's coming up roses. Marilyn's gone five years, so love me while you can, I've got a heart of gold!"
Factory Made - Andy Warhol and the Sixties
MAY 3 - 18, 1966: THE VELVETS PLAY THE TRIP.
Charlie Rothschild booked Warhol and the EXPLODING PLASTIC INEVITABLE (consisting of fourteen Factory regulars) to play at the Trip in Los Angeles. The Mothers of Invention featuring Frank Zappa opened for them and were cheered by the L.A. crowd. The Velvet Underground were greeted with boos. (UT65)
Lou Reed on Frank Zappa: "He's probably the single most untalented person I've heard in my life. He's a two-bit pretentious academic, and he can't play rock'n'roll, because he's a loser. And that's why he dresses up funny. He's not happy with himself and I think he's right." (UT65)
Amongst the celebrities attending the opening night were JOHN PHILLIPS of the MAMAS AND THE PAPAS, RYAN O'NEAL, JIM MORRISON (who was a film student at UCLA) and CHER who commented that the Velvet's music would replace nothing, except perhaps suicide. (LR133) The reviews were terrible and on the third night the sheriff’s office shut the club down for disturbing the peace. They stayed in LA as Union rules stated that in order to be paid, they had to remain in Los Angeles, even if they didn't perform.
NOVEMBER 1966:THE DOORS PLAY ONDINE.
The Doors came to New York for the first time and played at the nightclub, Ondine.
Andy Warhol: “Gerard took one look at JIM MORRISON in leather pants just like his and he flipped. ‘He stole my look!’ he screamed, outraged." (POP189)
Jim Morrison had seen Gerard Malanga performing earlier that year at The Trip in L.A., as part of the Exploding Plastic Inevitable. Morrison was supposed to be the star of Andy Warhol's first "blue" (porn) movie. According to Warhol, Morrison had "agreed to bring a girl over and fuck her in front of the camera but when the time came, he never showed up.”
I, a Man
Title: I, a Man
Director, Director of Photography, Screenwriter, Editor: Paul Morrissey
Producer and Camera-operator: Andy Warhol
Production Company: Andy Warhol Films, Inc.
Running Time: 99 minutes (Short version )
110 minutes (Long version)
Format: 3 reels sound color 16 mm. reference print
Release Date: 1967-08-24, Hudson Theater, New York City (Short version)
1968-01-00, the Cinematheque-16, Los Angeles (Long version)
Ultra Violet [Isabelle Collin Dufresne]
Note: The idea for I, a Man came from a suggestion by Maury Maura, the owner of the Hudson Theater in the Times Square area where a new version of My Hustler was playing. This particular version of My Hustler included 13 extra minutes of sexually explicit footage at the request of the theatre in order to capitalize on the sexploitation market. Maury wanted another sexually explicit film to show after My Hustler finished its run and suggested something like I, a Woman, a Swedish film about a nymphomanic that had successfully toured the art-house circuit in early 1967.
Nico had agreed to be in the film as long as she could do it with Jim Morrison who she had a crush on. Morrison agreed to it, but his manager vetoed the idea and Nico, instead, showed up with Hollywood actor, Tom Baker, who was a friend of Jim Morrison's from L.A. Andy had been spending a lot of time with Nico but he never had the same rapport with her as his other female stars. While most other Factory regulars were on speed, Nico liked heroin. She was also a star in her own right and not as dependent on Andy as the others. In one scene Nico is staving off Tom Baker's advances.
I, a Man follows Tom as he sees six different women in one day in New York, "having sex with some, talking with some, fighting with some." One of these women were Ivy Nicholson, a model who had been hanging out at the Factory since 1964 and, like many of his other stars, developed an obsession for Andy and thought that "she might be able to secure her fame and fortune not just by working with Andy but by marrying him," similar to Andrea Feldman who, in later years, would proclaim herself to be Andy's wife. Ivy's irratic behaviour included throwing a cup of coffee in Ondine's face and even shitting in the Factory elevator. In 1968, after Valerie Solanas shot Andy, Ivy Nicholson threatened to kill herself if he died.
When the unbalanced feminist polemicist Valerie Solanas asked Andy Warhol for rent money, he offered her $25 to appear in the film. The scene between Valerie Solanas and Tom Baker includes hostile but very funny sexual banter that demonstrates the same anti-male humor as her notorious S.C.U.M. Manifesto, published after her 1968 shooting of Warhol.
After the theatrical success of Chelsea Girls and My Hustler, the theatre owner that was showing My Hustler asked me if I had any other material that could follow it. In fact I had nothing that might hold an audience. He suggested that I make something. Since My Hustler took as long to make as to watch, 1 hour and 10 minutes, he knew what he was talking about. I asked what kind of film would he like and when would he need it. Since he was only 2 blocks from 4SecondStreet he said it would be good if it was like a big hit there called I, a Woman. And he said he needed it in a couple of days since the business was really running out. I told Andy and he was glad they wanted something else, but what ? Neither he nor I had seen I, a Woman. Since Andy had a disco to go to that night and I didn't want to see it, Andy suggested we make something and just call it I, a Man.
The next morning he called me to say he had an apartment and a leading actor he had met the previous night — Jim Morrison, the lead singer of The Doors. He had been to UCLA Film School and wanted to take all his clothes off in an Andy Warhol film. Andy told Jim to show up at the Factory at three o'clock. Andy would call some people and I would call some.
At four o'clock a guy named Tom Baker appeared and said that he was a close friend of Jims. Jim's manager had refused to let him be in the film as it might ruin his chances in Hollywood. Therefore he thought that Tom should replace him and be the lead. Andy looked at me a bit sceptically but I thought everybody was waiting at the apartment, why not ?
I recognized Tom and thought he would be OK. He was, and the film was shot all in the next few hours in just one East Village apartment on West 10th Street belonging to the brother-in-law of Fidel Castro, one Waldo Balart. I had to invent a situation for each of the girls that showed up at the apartment. One of the girls, a panhandler, who Andy was trying to be nice to, later shot him.
— Paul Morrissey
The first version of I, a Man opened at the Hudson Theater on 1967/08/24 and ran for 99 minutes. At the beginning of 1968, however, the Cinematheque-16 in Los Angeles was playing a 110 minute version. Later in the year it was edited again to 96 minutes — its current running time. The uncut reels were also included in Andy's 25 Hour Movie or ****.
Nico The Life & Lies Of An Icon By: Richard Watts
Excerpts From: Nico The Life and Lies of an Icon by Richard Witts published in 1993
Referencing Morrison and the Doors
Christa Paffgen aka Nico Born in Cologne Germany October 16, 1938
Died on July 18, 1988 in Isbiza, Spain at the age of 49
Nico's fame rested on her face, her songs, her lovers, and her
drugs. She was the alpine-fresh covergirl of the Fifties who pigged on
amphetamines to lose weight; the "Swedish princess' who
smoked joints of cannabis on the film set of La Dolce Vita; the `most beautiful
woman in the world' who dined on magic mushrooms on the island of
Ibiza; the Andy Warhol Superstar who took acid to `find her
head' (and then lose it); the blood sister of The Doors' Jim Morrison
who chewed peyote buttons in his company to conjure bewitching visions in
the desert; the composer who smoked heroin `because I have too
many thoughts'; the raddled junkie who smuggled her needles through
every customs post in Europe, and finally the Moon Goddess of
methadone. `Everyone goes on about drugs, especially heroin,'
observed one of the musicians from the final years of her life,
`but I remember her more as a terrible drinker. Beer and white wine,
especially beer. Pints of it, bottles of it. That's when she'd start beating people up. You hear the fans go on about the "Moon
Goddess" stuff, but they should have seen her backstage hassling for money! She was a real boozer, was Nico."
Nico was to search all her life for a phantom family; it's not
affection that made her call both Jim Morrison and Bob Dylan "my
A typical Nico conversation was captured by her final manager, Alan
Alan: Are you saying that Jim Morrison was like Jesus?
Nico: I'd like a new car.
Alan: Oh. What kind of car would you like?
Nico: About 2,000 years old.
Alan: The car?
Nico: No, Jesus Christ.
The Velvet Underground at the Trip 1966
The Ad reads: "FLIP OUT! SKIP OUT! TRIP OUT!"
Gerard Malanga: "One night Jim Morrison of the Doors came to see
show; that must have been the first time he saw Nico. But a few days
in, the two managers are fighting each other and the place goes
bankrupt. Because of the union regulations we have to stay around the
entire contracted time in order to get our money.
You have to remember also that there wasn't this big, rock
industry structure yet. A good example was accommodation. I went to LA a few
days in advance to check dumb things like whether the club had enough
sockets to plug the projectors in, and the toughest job I had was
finding somewhere for the band to stay. Hotels did not take bands. I
put Andy and the `respectable' folk in the Tropicana motel,
but they wouldn't take the Velvets or Nico. They said that bands rent
houses, and I got put on to this wonderful guy called Jack Simmons. He was
James Dean's best friend and now he ran this big place called The
Castle. It really is a castle surrounded by a park. Nico got to love
the place and later she stayed there for a time with Jim Morrison. So
you see, however straight you tried to run these operations in those
days, you still ended up with these crazy, exotic alternatives.
Nico: "Everything is a drug, words are a drug, Jim (Morrison)
said that God is a drug – those are not such cliché. It is a
medicine, something to cure you of disease.Coffee cures you of
tiredness….what else did I say? Music? Well, music cures you of time. God cures you
of death, I suppose." Nico never admitted that drugs cured her of
melancholy, though she once told a reporter that "They were
called mind-blowing, and I like the idea that I can blow away my memory,
which is imperfect." This was the one time she inferred that she
would prefer no memory to a perfect one.
In that imperfect memory of Nico's, 1967 seemed to be the least
fractured of the years she stored there, unless it was the one she
lied about the most. 1967 was a year the Californian hippies had
designated the Summer Of Love, a summer she spent with Jim Morrison,
and, when she wasn't with him, with Brian Jones, and when she
wasn't with them, with Andy Warhol making films or with Tom Wilson making
records. "I was not a hippie. It was never true to say that, not
to Jim Morrison either, nor Brian Jones. We are bohemians. Do you
understand the difference? Bohemians know they are not hippies, but
hipped don't know they are not bohemians. Shall I tell you
something about hippies that I didn't like? Well, they were always selling
you something. They would try to sell you dope, or patchouli oil, or
themselves, or whatever they were thinking. It was like a Black
Market, it was der Schwarzmarkt all over again."
"AVOID PERSONS in black or lemon. You will have romantic
inclinations, so aim for people in cream. You'll feel like a
tiger, but don't forget you're a lion." This was the impressive
advice given to Nico by Madame Svetlana. Madame Svetlana wrote each month for a
New York magazine that foretold the horoscopes of celebrities. In
March 1967, it displayed a photographic collage of that month's
selection. Nico was prominent, with her date of birth clear for all
to see: 8 August 1942. She did not know that Nico was a liar than a
Leo. Pasted next to Nico was Peter Sellers (Virgo), Federico Fellini
(Capricorn) and the singer of The Doors, Jim Morrison
(Sagittarius; `Many Sagittarians will indulge in a taste for
forgery'.) Of all the sage projections Madame Svetlana made,
placing Jim Morrison and Nico together was the most prescient. The Doors came
from Los Angeles and had played in New York just twice, firstly the
previous November and then in March. The common view at the Factory
was that The Doors were a rather pretentious band which relied
entirely on the carnal power of its sensual Greek god, Jim Morrison.
The Velvets most feared another California band entirely, the one led
by Frank Zappa and called the Mothers Of Invention. "Jim was
Brian Jones and Mick Jagger put together. But he was really a cobra. Who
were the Mothers Of Invention? Anyway, who wants to hear a concert
given by some mothers?" declared Nico, forgetting she was a
When the Velvets and Nico played The Trip club in Los Angeles a year
before, Jim Morrison had been there. Warhol believed that Morrison
had then paid close attention to Gerard Malanga, who had performed
his whip dance in a suit of black leather. Morrison later gained much
publicity by wearing such a suit. It is often assumed that Morrison
and Nico first came together in the Summer of 1967, when Danny Fields
from the Elektra Record Company tried to engineer the perfect
partnership. Morrison and Nico would be Adam and Eve in the Summer Of
They actually met in March, when Morrison would have noticed
those `twenty-foot-high poster of Nico all over Manhattan'.
The drummer of The Doors was John Densmore who remembered the March
encounter from a distinctly percussive perspective. "We were
staying at the dumpy Great Northern Hotel on 57th Street. Convenient
location, but the place smelled of old people. I was rooming right
next to Jim, which turned out to be better than TC. Not that I was
the drinking glass to the wall type, but the racket that was coming
from next door one night was hard to miss. Jim brought Nico, the
Velvet Underground's famous German vamp, back to his hotel room,
and I never heard such crashing around. It sounded as if they were
beating the shit out of each other. I was worried but never dare to
ask what happened. Nico looked okay the next day, so I let it
When so many people talk of Nico at this time in terms
of `elegance,' `shyness,' `dignity,' `beauty,' `divine sensuality,' and even as a `willowy flower,'
it is surprising to read of her suddenly as a bruiser, a scrapper, a boxer of ears. It is less
surprising to learn that when she drank beer she turned violent.
Within two hours the Moon Goddess transformed herself into a lager
lout. Beer-drinking became a more common feature later in her life;
indeed, one drunken bout led later to her exile from America, but it
took someone as monstrously lush as Morrison to provoke the first
recorded instance. He called himself the Lizard King, but he was more
of a lounge lizard. John Cale observed that "Jim Morrison was
like a spoily, clean-scrubbed schoolboy in his first day on drink."
Nico often talked of him as her `soul brother': "I think
he was the first man I met who was not afraid of me in some way. We were very
similar, like brother and sistr. Our spirits are similar. We were the
same height and the same age, almost." In fact he was five years
younger, otherwise she was justified in stressing their similarities.
James Douglas Morrison was the son of an officer in the US Navy.
While his father fought, the boy was brought up by his mother and
grandparents in Clearwater, the Lubbenau of Florida. He later claimed
that the soul of a dead Native American entered his body when he was
but four years old. Morrison's Natives were Nicos Jews. But his
background was effortlessly bourgeois and cushioned. A butch
hostility to routine was marked this sulky young man jaded with the
clean comforts of Fifties America; Nico often strove for the life he
disowned. While she watched weepy movies he went to film school.
While she saw Ginsberg, in the street, he read Ginsberg. While she
learned Dylan's lyrics, he wrote his own. "He was well read
and he introduced me to William Blake and also the English Romantic poets
who came after him. Jim liked Shelley. I preferred Coleridge. In
fact, he is my favoured poet of all time. Did you know they were all
drug addicts? Coleridge was addicted to opium. It is better to be
addicted to opium than to be addicted to money."
Nico: "I did not feel that Jim was a Californian (he wasn't).
He lived in Los Angeles, which is a beautiful name – The Angels
– and it was really a city for William Blake, not for Hollywood. But Los
Angeles was destroyed, like Jerusalem was destroyed in England (in
Blake's poem.) Jim could have built it again, if he had not been
surrounded by these tacky women."
Jim Morrison had as many women as Brian Jones ( it would have been
difficult to have had more.) His looks were brilliantly bohemian: a
sullen mouth that pouted more than smiled, barely containable
stubble, a childish button nose, puma eyes, tousled red-brown hair,
and a petulant demeanour set in a heavy frame, for both Morrison and
Nico, weight gain was a persistent problem. He retained a little baby
fat and looked pampered, but he was physically graceful, at least
when he was sober.
Jack Simmons, the owner of The Castle, claimed that "Jim Morrison
walked like a panther and swam like a dolphin." Nico never
walked, she sashayed; and she never swam, never.
Danny Fields considered that Morrison "really was a terror –<br>he was
the epitome of the old-fashioned concept of a brat, a big, brilliant,
sexy brat." He must have known, when he put them together that
July in Los Angeles, that Morrison and Nico were not Adam and Eve, but two
snakes. "I thought they would make a cute couple." he coyly
explained. "They were both icy and mysterious and charismatic and
poetic and deep and sensitive and wonderful."
Nico had a more direct view. "Jim Morrsison had the best sex I
ever had inside me," she confided to a writer in the Eighties,
"but Brian Jones have the best sex, when he could. Jim was more involved in his
dreams. He liked to sleep and to find visions, because there were
private things he showed me. I think Brian was more of a musician
than a composer, and Jim was more of a poet. You could say that Jim
took drugs because he wanted visions for his poetry. It is like
people in the office who drink coffee to help them work. It is really
Nico talked of Jim Morrison and Brian Jones in the same breath
because she moved from one to the other early that summer. She moved,
in fact, from Paul McCartney's house in London, which invaded for
several weeks, to the Velvet Underground in Boston with Andy Warhol
and then to Brian Jones in San Francisco and Jim Morrison in Los
Angeles, all in one grand sweep. "You say it like was like a
fairy tale at the time; Andy would be the good fairy, and Jim would play
the giant, Brian would be the witch, Paul McCartney would be the frog
who turns into a prince, no, it would have to be the other way round.
Well, it didn't seem like a fairy tale at the time. It was a lot
of hassle. But I learned a lot of things, and I began to compose my own
songs." As Morrison would often say, quoting Blake, "the road
to excess leads to the palace of Wisdom!." He rarely added that it
was one of the Proverbs of Hell.
July – December, 1967
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such deep delight `twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
(from `Kubla Khan', Samuel Taylor Colderidge, 1798)
One story about Nico and Jim Morrison has passed into rock legend:
Jim and Nico are staying at The Castle that summer. They are both
naked. They are both stoned on acid and drink and hashish. Jim takes
Nico up the tower. Jim jumps on to the parapet and looks down to the
deep drop below. Nude, he walks along the thin parapet, risking his
life. He shouts to Nico to follow him. She refuses. he begs her. She
declines. He commands her. She disobeys. He risks everything. She
risks nothing. That is how the story has been passed down from Doors
biography to Doors biography. It came first from the lips of Danny
Fields and Jack Simmons, who were on the spot, and today it is a
renowned image of rock mythology to set aside Jimi Hendrix igniting
his guitar and Jerry Lee Lewis smashing his piano: the heman, the
cave man, the strutting cock, disobeying death.
But nobody bothered to ask Nico for her side of the story:
"Everybody says it is true and they saw this thing we did," she reflected in
1985, "but I remember something they never say. That I argued
with Jim. He asked if I would walk along the edge. I said to him,
"Why?" and he couldn't answer. It was not a positive act,a nd not a
destructive act; it didn't change anything. So why should I do
something that is so vain, just to follow him? It was not spiritual
or philosophical. It was a drunk man displaying himself. Did they
tell you that about the story? I don't think so."
Danny Fields once told a journalist that "Jim and Nico got into
this fight, with him pulling her hair all over the place – it was just
this weird love making, between the two most adorable monsters, each
one trying to be more poetic than the other." Nico stressed,
again in 1985, "I like my relations to be physical and of the psyche. We
hit each other because we were drunk and we enjoyed the sensation. We
made love in a gentle way, do you know? It was the opposite way of
Brian Jones. I thought of Jim Morrison as my brother. We exchanged
blood. I carry his blood inside me. When he died, and I told people
that he wasn't dead, this was my meaning. We had spiritual
journeys together." When asked to clarify this, Nico declared, "We
went to the desert and took drugs."
Nico wanted Jim Morrison to join her brotherhood, and he obliged.
They cut their thumbs in the desert with a knife and let their blood
mingle. Such a ritual form of devotion appealed to their shared sense
of theatre, but Nico wanted even more. She wanted Morrison to share
not just her blood but her son. One night she decided that they
should be married, to test if he was stringing her along or serious.
As the drunken boor in front of her had offered little more than
literary discourse and downright lust, she suggested to him that he
might like to propose marriage to her. He laughed himself off his
chair. She hit him, they fought and when they got tired, they made
up. That was the routine nature of their alliance, day after day
–<br>affection – argument – rancour –resolution: "I was in
love with him and that is how love goes, isn't it? He was the first man I was
in love with, because he was affectionate to my looks and my mind. But
we took too much drink and too many drugs to make it, that was our
difficulty. Everything was open to us, there were no rules. We had a
too big appetite."
During their time together in California, between the months July and
August 1967, they often drove out of Los Angeles and into the desert.
Morrison found the cactus buttons called peyote, which they picked
off and ate. "Peyote was a spiritual drug. We were in the middle
of the desert and everything was natural, you know, in the open air,
nature all around, not a hotel room or a bar. And the cactus was
natural. You did not buy it from somebody on a street corner. We had
visions in the desert. It is like William Blake. Jim was like
William Blake; he would see visions like Blake did, angels in trees,
he would see these, and so would I. And Jim showed me that this is
what a poet does. A poet sees visions and records them. He said there
were more poets in the Comanches than there were in bookstores. The
Comanches took the cactus, too. We were like the Indians who live in
this way for thousands of years, before the Christians and as long as
Jim Morrison recorded his psycho-chemical visions and dreams. His
notes often comprised the raw material for his poems and songs. He
considered that this was how the opium-addicted Coleridge worked, a
model good enough for him; one Coleridge poem he read to Nico was
titled "Kubla Khan, or a vision in a Dream," Nico just once
offered an example of the peyote visions she endured with Morrison: "The
light of the dawn was a very deep green and I believed I was upside
down and the sky was the desert which had become a garden and then
the ocean. I do not swim and I was frightened when it was water and
more resolved when it was land. I felt embraced by the
Soon after, she started to write a song lyric, possibly her first,
titled, "Lawns Of Dawns," which contained lines such as these:
He blesses you, he blesses me
The day the night caresses,
Caresses you, caresses me,
Can you follow me?
I cannot understand the way I feel
Until I rest on lawns of dawns -
Can you follow me?
The cross-eyed, internal rhymes come directly from Jim Morrison, who
wrote `The west is the best' and even other lines less
elegant (`Your milk is my wine / your silk is my shine.') He showed her how he
worked on his poems, and in doing so offered her a model. She was
reluctant to write anything down, however. It was a major step, to
talk about words and then to write them (especially in a foreign
language, Nico liked to remind her fans.) "Jim gave me permission
to be a writer," Nico claimed. "He said to me one day, "I
give you permission to write your poems and compose your songs!" My soul
brother believed I could do it. I had his authority. And why not? His
song was the most popular in America." At the time, this was
strictly true. The Doors' single `Light My Fire' had been released
in early June, and by the end of July it attained the number one position for
three weeks. Nico spent her nights in the desert with the
nation's number one pop star who told her to write songs and read to her
Coleridge, Shelley and Blake. No wonder she stayed faithful to her
boozy, conceited soul brother, when he was the first fuckable man to
acknowledge her mind as much as her face.
Nico told him that she did not know how to compose. She could not
follow the mechanics of writing. He told her to write down her
dreams, literally, write down the images she remembered. This would
provide her raw material. He admitted to her that he started by
imitating other writers, Celine and Blake for instance, but then he
realized that they were writing down their dreams, and so it would be
more creative for him to do the same. The songs would be her
recounting her visions, and that was enough. But then she asked him
where the melodies came from, and he gave the stock answer he had
ready whenever the subject was raised: "The music came first, and
then I'd make up some words to hang on to the melody, because
that was the only way I could remember it, and most of the time I'd
end up with just the words and forget the tune." The music, then, was
the melody, and all the rest was arrangement. Nico felt that she had
finally passed an examination.
Their affair,a torrid mixture of drinks, drugs, fights and poetry
readings, lasted little more than a month before this Adam and Eve
left the garden of Eden without any god's bidding and drifted
down their separate roads to hell. They were tired of each other, little
more than that, they were exhausted by each other's titanic
demands. Aside from the authority she had received to compose, and the slanted
introduction to English poetry, she kept two prevailing souvenirs of
her liaison: his blood in hers, and red hair. "He had a fetish
for red-haired shanties, you know, Irish shanties. I was so much in love
with him that I made my hair red after a while. I wanted to please
his taste. It was silly, wasn't it? Like a teenager." She
kept her hair tinted pale red until she died.
Andy Warhol wanted Nico and Jim Morrison t make a feature length film
together. He was bucked by the commercial success of The Chelsea
Girls and he knew that Nico had a lot to do with it. "He wanted
to me to make a film with Jim Morrison, though he pretended that it was my
idea. He wanted a pop star in his film. While I was at The Castle I
looked after Edie who had joined me. She was still beautiful, but she
had a problem with heroin then. She told me to be careful of Andy
because he would use me to get more famous and then forget me when he
wanted. Well, I had already thought of that. I was not so dependent
on Andy as Edie, I mean not for my career. So Edie said that I should
do the film but with somebody else instead of Jim. So I did. Andy was
expecting Jim and instead I took Jim's friend, who was an actor
called Tom Baker. Andy could not chastise me, but he was annoyed.
This became the beginning of the end."
That was how Nico told the story. However, Jim Morrison had no desire
to make a film with Nico anyway, not even a photograph. Danny Fields
recalled that "I wanted him to do a photo session with Nico, but
he refused to do it. He'd never say no, but he'd never turn up.
Nico would be waiting at the location and Morrison was always nowhere to
be seen. He didn't want to pose with a woman, and I don't
blame him –<br>his instincts were right. Posing with a woman would have diffused his
image, and he wanted to remain aloof." To save face, Nico took
Tom Baker, a kind of "next best thing" in her view, over to
Warhol, though this handsome Hollywood actor was probably a better performer
than Morrison. There is one other aspect to this that Nico confided
at the time to Tina Aumont but never mentioned again, She spent some
time with Edie and they had sex with each other. Nico's new film
was called, I, A Man.
Although she hated hippies, who `were always trying to sell you
something', she finally bought from a San Francisco hippie a very
hippie thing to buy: a little Indian harmonium. It was portable in
the way a heavy suitcase is portable, but Nico considered it very
portable indeed, because she always would find an unhired hand to
drag it around for her. She would haul it out of a taxi, look lost
and sweaty, and swiftly lure some good soul to lug it behind her.
`It is the kind of organ that Allen Ginsberg uses in his poetry readings.
It is used for chanting by the Indians (those in India), and it means
I do not have to rely on guitarists, who are unreliable people to
work with,' she declared. The trouble was, she hadn't a clue
how to play it. She bought the thing because she decided….she sometimes
decided that Jim Morrison had discovered her, and sometimes that she
had discovered herself through Jim Morrison. In whichever way, she
chose to be a composer, because…he had opened the door, or he had
watched her open the door. As she could not write music, and she did
not have a band, she concluded that she must learn an instrument and
compose directly on that. Then she could play her songs in public and
not `rely on guitarists'. Trust Nico to consider herself a model of reliability.
She had learnt from Dylan, Jones, Cale, Browne and Morrison that
songs consisted of four distinct elements: the words that are set to
music, the melody, the melody, the harmony that supports it and gives
it direction, and eventually the arrangement or instrumentation by
which the song is eventually the arrangement or instrumentation by
which the song is presented to the public. It seems that nobody dared
talk to Nico about rhythm. She once told a journalist:
"I don't have a sense of time. Time is timeless to me, and I'm not in a hurry
to get older. I mean, if I were worried about time, all the time, it would be terrible.'
Nico never saw Jim Morrison again, she claimed, until the day of his
death. She met plenty of alternative Morrisons at The Castle, but no
one special enough to join her phantom family. `She stayed a long
time because she loved the atmosphere so much,' Jack Simmons
recollected. `She would stay in Bob Dylan's suite when he
wasn't around; otherwise she had her own room at the top of the tower, a
little place where she felt the most comfortable.' Nico
recalled, `When the sun rises in the tower it is especially
beautiful, and at night I had cricket concerts.' She earned her
keep mooning around, looking sultry and poetic, just as she had ton the
streets of Berlin, giving journalists guided tours. `Jim Morrison
once stayed in this room…but then, he stayed in a lot of rooms.'
She followed Jim Morrison's advice and made notes of her dreams,
often opium-fed like those of Coleridge. The images nourished the
words, but the words she chose came from the published poetry of old
Romantic England and new-leaf New England; Coleridge and Lovell,
Blake and Plath. The LP's name was stolen from William Blake, but
some of the song titles – `Facing the Wind', `Roses
in the Snow' – sound like those of Sylvia Plath.
By the age of 30 Nico had progressed in looks from a princess to a
peasant. It had been a sluggish journey, starting with hair tinged a
pale strawberry to please Jim Morrison, to the boots of Spanish
leather she continually wore, then working in from either end to
effect a seamless mood of rustic grace (`She'd smell like a
pig farmer sometimes, she washed so little,' grumbled Viva).
A French journalist probed her sternly about the Paris revolution of
May 1968, and all that followed: `Of course, I was there and
followed the events (this is not true). It is not the unions I follow because
I am not in a union – what a union could I be in? The Union of
Models or the Union of Protest Singers? I follow the Situationists, which is
only surrealism brought up to date. It is a good bohemian reaction.
Jim Morrison tells me that people are looking at the streets while I
am looking at the moon (this is a mutation of an Oscar Wilde saying).
I do not feel connected enough (with the issues) to throw stones at a
policeman. I want to throw stones at the whole world.' (Page 228)
Nico had taken a sacred vow at the lap of Jim Morrison, no less, to
be an artist. All around her she had seen intellectuals squandering
their time; even Jim himself had neglected Nico and become fat and
idle. She concluded she must take the opposite path.
She (Nico) once considered which decade she fitted best: "I would
say the time has not yet come. I rebel against the present, whenever it
is, because I have not seen any change, other than oppositions grow
stronger. I would be a communist if it was more anarchist. Otherwise,
I see only everything as an absurdity, so I can laugh and cry. I have
lived in a continuation, from birth and growing towards death in a
chain that cannot end. I don't see this decade then that decade.
The same things happen in different guises. I am bohemian but at one time
you would call me a hippie or a punk. I remain a bohemian whatever
you call me. So maybe I am locked in the fifties. But I have never
desired to grow up from my world as a child, which is when things are
most clear and utopian. They are clear because you are at the center
and you see all around you. When you get older you lose your
sight….I lost something of my childishness when people around me start dying.
Four of my family died within a year."
The first was her mother. The second, Jimi Hendrix (`inhalation
of vomit due to barbiturate intoxication). The third, Edie Sedgwick, of
a heroin overdose (`she was my warning'). The fourth was Jim
Morrison, who had lately exiled himself to Paris in order to lead a
quiet life as a poet and to blend in namelessly with the other junkie
aesthetes. Nico did not know they now shared the same city (and
possibly the same heroin dealers.) On July 3, 1971, Nico was walking
down the avenue de l'Opera when a black car slowly passed. She
saw Jim Morrison in the back seat, bearded and bloated. "I signaled
but he didn't see me. He was looking straight ahead, facing death. It
was the anniversary of the death of Brian Jones. I am destined to die at
the same time (she did indeed die in July). I knew it was Jim. They
said he died that night in his bath, of heroin. But I knew his spirit
entered me, and it was an unbearable load. It meant nothing put pain.
Thoughts were flying round my head, male and female. And then you can
say that heroin became my lover." They had exchanged blood
exactly four years before (Nico would claim it was to the very day, though
the dates don't tally). Nico would claim it was why she felt his
spirit. She could not bear to attend the funeral, nor his grave at
Pere Lachaise cemetery. "It was the wrong place. His ashes should
have been scattered in the desert, or pickled in mescal."
Now Nico was acting the mysterious diva to the hilt. She was
increasingly erratic – not an hour late for meetings but a day
overdue – and she was dogmatic beyond belief, telling people what
to do and how to do it. It was assumed that the `aesthetic' life
had gone to her head. Yet there is another view her friends put forward:
surely Nico suffered a breakdown, or schizophrenia following the
death of her mother. It would be understandable for her to assume the
presence of the `spirit of Morrison' in such a condition. The
heroin she increasingly relied on would have cushioned the symptoms, or fed
them, disorientation was now a part of her daily life. She found a
doctor who prescribed Valium. She also smoked cannabis, `to help
As she was nothing less than Nico the Moon Goddess and novice junkie,
she decided (with the advice of cards and coins) that she would make
a momentous contribution to the cause, in her own special way. She
would write terrorist songs. They would inspire rebellion for sure.
Moreover, she had a splendid outlet for them. In early 1974 John Cale
had signed a new contract with the British label Island; on the back
of it he gave Nico a chance to record another album. It was ratified
in a curious deal with the entrepreneur Jo Lusting (`He thinks I
owe him money. But he owes me money and he hasn't paid me a penny,
ever. I signed with Island because I was absolutely broke').
She resolved to make the album a memorial to her soul brother Jim
Morrison. It was her first chance to pay public respect to him since
his death soon after the release of her last album. She would sing
his favourite song and call her record by its name, "The
End", a very terrorist kind of title. "Nico are you sure you're not
tempting fate?" quizzed her Island contact, "Oh. no. I don't tempt
fate. Fate tempts me."
Nico wrote songs for her two heroes, Jim Morrison and Andreas Baader.
To Morrison, her soul brother, she recalled the moment she last saw
him, in a black car facing death. She uses solely the present and
When I remember what to say,
When I remember what to say,
You will know me again,
And you forget to answer all.
You seem not to be listening,
You seem not to be listening,
The high tide is taking, everything,
And you forget to answer all.
The line that runs "you seem not to be lis-te-ning was cited more
than once as Nico's inability to cope, with the stresses and
accents of the English language. `I don't care,' she retorted,
which is exactly what Stravinsky said when he was accused of the same
violation. Nico would have done well to memorize Stravinsky's
subsequent remark, that Handel, a composer revered above all others
by the English, often got it wrong (`For unto us a child is
born'); Handel had once been as German as Nico.
The writers were especially confused by Nico's version of
`The End,' which they regarded as male territory (`she certainly concocts a
bitch's brew,' claimed Crawdaddy). There was just one
exuberant review to be had, from Richard Cromelin of America's Creem
magazine. Nico kept a copy of the piece in her bag for some time, as she
considered the comparison with Morrison's voice to be
wonderfully `valid' (not to say flattering):
Her The End is the soundtrack for the free-fall to the bottom.
It's a totally mesmerizing performance by this lady hidden in musical mists,
yet at the same time all too clear. If Morrison sang it as a lizard,
Nico is the sightless bird, lost but ever so calm, somehow knowing
the right direction. She is the pure dead marble of a ruined
Acropolis, a crumbling column on the subterranean bank of
Morrison's River Styx.
Nico shuttled between Lutz's home in Berlin and Paris, Ulbrich
and Garrel. She had concerts to play through Hassad Debs, four more films
to make through Garrel, and overwhelming desire to be taken
seriously. Nico despaired, however, that she was no longer in command
of her life. She was dependent on drink, drugs, deceit, and –<br>worst
of all – money. She had changed her looks again. Her very long
hair was no longer any shade of red, now that Morrison was dead, but
brown. Nico wore black (`in mourning for ever'), though she
hung on to her brown boots.
Nico the Nomad flew to California. She was bored stiff with her
active and aesthetic but aimless life. She wanted a record contract.
It was her first trip to America since her exile five years ago.
There had been talk of The Doors reforming with Nico as the new Jim
Morrison (`we have the same voice').
Nico returned to Manchester to confront Alan Wise, who was angry that
she arranged a concert privately. `Oh please don't be angry
with me Alan, I needed the money so that can go to Ibiza to work on some new
songs and be with Ari' (Ari is Nicos' son ) (The last song
she sang in concert was her song to Jim Morrison about the moment she saw him
before his death.)
Nico and Ari flew to Ibiza, where Nico had rented a cottage up in the
hills behind Ibiza town. "Late one morning, on July 17, my mother
told me that she had to go into town to buy some marijuana," said
Ari. "She sat at the mirror and wound a black scarf around her
My mother stared at the mirror and took great care to wind the scarf
properly. She rode down the hill on her bicycle. `I won't be
long." By the time she left it was the start of the afternoon, say 1 p.m.,
and the hottest day of the year, 35 degrees centigrade.
A taxi driver found her slumped on the side of a steep road down
Figueretas hill, her bicycle on the dusty ground nearby. The wheels
had stopped spinning. He settled her in the back of his car and sped
to the nearest hospital. The cab driver was obliged to call at four
hospitals before he could unload. At the first two Nico was ranked a
foreigner, and not admissible. At the third she wasn't considered
an emergency – she looked like an old beatnik, possibly too long in
the sun. After the driver nagged, the fourth hospital admitted her. She
was conscious but couldn't speak. Nico saw the hospital entrance
and tried to say no, no. They put her on a trolley and the nurse
diagnosed sunstroke, a doctor examined her the next morning. She had
had a cerebral haemorrhage. The doctor though he could save her with
injections, but he couldn't find a vein." Nico died
officially at 8:00pm on 18 July 1988.
Posted 23 August 2007 - 11:57 AM
WOW! The golden phone story is true!?!?
Posted 23 August 2007 - 12:24 PM
The golden phone story sure _sounds_ like Andy Warhol... lol
My 17 year-old daughter and I recently saw a stage show about Warhol (written by my husband's cousin) called "American Soup".. and my daughter was mesmerized. In fact, she walked out of the theater saying "Andy Warhol is my hero". Yikes.
Posted 23 August 2007 - 12:27 PM
Thank you very much darkstar for all the excerpts!
They`re super interesting!
Very much appreciated!!!
Nico seemed to be rather obsessed with Morrison....
but I have read that she had an affair with Edie, too!
And Edie Sedgwick was obsessed with Bob Dylan, who was a very welcome visitor of the Factory!. She even declared that she had an abortion as a result of a car accident - and that the unborn baby was Dylan`s child.
Bob Dylan and Bobby Neuwirth first met Edie in December of 1964 - approximately a month before she met Warhol.
Bobby Neuwirth: "Bobby Dylan and I occasionally ventured out into the poppy nightlife world. I think somebody who had met Edie said, 'You have to meet this terrific girl.' Dylan called her, and she chartered a limousine and came to see us. We spent an hour or two, all laughing and giggling, having a terrific time... Edie was fantastic. She was always fantastic."
At the time that Neuwirth and Dylan met Edie, Dylan was staying at The Chelsea Hotel with his future wife, Sara Lownds, and her 3 year old child from a previous marriage. While Sara stayed in the hotel taking care of her child, Neuwirth and Dylan enjoyed New York's nightlife. Dylan was also having an affair with Joan Baez which had begun in May 1963 after both performed at the Monterey Jazz Festival. The relationship with Baez continued until May 1965 when Baez broke up with Dylan after discovering him and Lownds together in Dylan's hotel room during a concert tour of Great Britain. Dylan had previously neglected to tell Baez about Lownds.
Edie Sedgwick's last "official" Warhol film was LUPE (Dec. 1965). She had become increasingly convinced that everybody in New York was laughing at her because of her Warhol roles. After befriending Bob Dylan she was under the impression that Dylan's manager was going to offer her a contract. Sedgwick left Warhol after a public argument about money and her lack of role in the Velvet Underground. She left Andy to hang around with Bob Dylan “who had an extreme drug problem with amphetamine.”
In November 1965, Dylan married Sara in a secret ceremony - something that Edie apparently found out from Warhol during an argument at the Gingerman Restaurant in February 1966.
Andy Warhol had heard in his lawyer's office that Dylan had been secretly married for a few months. And he couldn't resist asking: 'Did you know, Edie, that Bob Dylan has gotten married?' She was trembling. They realized that she really thought of herself as entering a relationship with Dylan, that maybe he hadn't been truthful.
There is no evidence that Edie ever had a sexual relationship with Bob Dylan, I think Dylan himself negated it, too.
source: Edie Sedgwick
Gee! All these musicisians had sex with each other...
Baez - Dylan, Dylan - Edie (?), Edie - Nico, Nico - Morrison, Morrison - Edie(?), Edie- Kreti, Kreti -Pleti... to be continued....
What a glorious Hurly-Burly...
Malanga, Dylan, Warhol in the Factory
Posted 23 August 2007 - 12:44 PM
Oh my god... do something! Rescue her! You are her mother!!!
And yes... the god-phone-scene sounds like Warhol...
I knew that he was a weird person... But I didn`t expect that he was completely ... off his trolley...
That`s why I thought that the god-phone scene was fiction...
However - I like his art very much!
Posted 24 August 2007 - 07:56 AM
Darkside: The stuff I posted was from the archives I put together years ago. If there is anything specific your looking for let me know what it is and I'll see if I can help you out with some information.
Posted 24 August 2007 - 01:36 PM
I have heard that he was gay but it`s hard for me to believe because he`s so asexual for me - neither homosexual nor heterosexual, nor bisexual, whatever. Perhaps he adored slugs... just a wild guess...
And concerning Heffer... you`re doing him wrong! He`s not like Andy. Heffer is a very pleasing cattle. Reminds me of Goofy!
I mean... who do you think looks more likable:
I think that`s beyond all question...
That`s very nice of you! Thank you very much. I am sure I will gratefully take you up on your offer soon!
Posted 24 August 2007 - 05:01 PM
I mean... who do you think looks more likable:
I think that`s beyond all question...
That`s very nice of you! Thank you very much. I am sure I will gratefully take you up on your offer soon!
Heffer looks the better of the two. LOL - I believe Andy Warhol was like an A Sexual person. The reason I used the Heffer reference was because the name 'heffer' refers to a young cow and the cartoon 'heffer' is a steer. So the cartoon Heffer is in a class by himself.
Posted 24 August 2007 - 08:51 PM
I see!!! I did not know that the name "Heffer" refers to a young cow! Now I understand what you were trying to say and I agree!
I have heard that Heffer is Andy Warhol`s secret, illegitimate half brother (Compare their smiles! They look very similar!). And I think I have read that Heffer had an affair with Nico and Edie ... and gave birth to Bob Dylan`s first child.
Posted 28 August 2007 - 02:17 PM
Andy Warhol - Blowjob (1964)
Well, it`s art, I know... and art is always subjective,,,
but I think I would have wanted my money back if I had payed for watching this film...
It´s so boring...
But the music is cool.
This scene is from Warhol`s "Exploding Plastic Inevitable"...
Exploding Plastic Inevitable
Again: a completely weird show, only the music is great...
For me, Andy`s films are annoying. I don`t know why - perhaps I am too dumb to enjoy them, perhaps I am just ignorant.
When these films were shot, my parents were children and so I am born decades after the release of the films. Perhaps that`s another reason why I am not able to enjoy them.
To the "older" members of this board: Did anyone watch one of these films when they were released? Did you enjoy them?
I am sure the squares of the 60`s must have been shocked !
But I guess today nobody would be shocked by films like this!
Perhaps it`s just a matter of time/era.
Perhaps these films were meant to shock the squares of the 60`s, I don`t know.
Does anybody know if Jim Morrison admired Warhol and his art? Or one of the other Doors members?
Posted 28 August 2007 - 02:38 PM
Well, I think KISS is ok.
I think Warhol`s so-called "Screenshots" or "Screentests" are interesting - he just asked different people to sit in front of his camera. Warhol left them alone and the camera was recording the people`s faces - I think for about 15 minutes... The reactions were rather different: Some people started to cry in front of the camera, others became nervous or began to laugh.
Edie was very cool in one of those screenshots...I think she just tried to be beautiful...
Edie - in Warhol`s Screentest
Perhaps Warhol was trying to show real emotions and real people in his films...
he tried to be authentic.
But for some reason I fear that he was just taking advantage of drug addicts, people with a mental illness and people who tried to be famous. I think he didn`t even pay them for acting in his movies... Especially Edie had become increasingly convinced that everybody in New York was laughing at her because of her Warhol roles - no surprise, I think. Warhol was the big boss, the genius who got the money and the fame - all the others were just gofers who made fools of themselves by acting in his movies!
Posted 29 August 2007 - 03:35 AM
Ray manzarek also mentions this in his book too - maybe slighly differently in detail but john, in his book claimed that when they went to the factory he passed saying andy looked like a "walking corpse" and said "thank god jim did not get too involved otherwise he would have died sooner".
Posted 29 August 2007 - 05:05 AM
Susan Mernit: "The current issue of the Paris Review has a slide show of photos by Gerard Malanga and a piece about him. When I was 12 going on 20 and living in the burbs of New York, I discovered poets Robert Creeley, Robert Duncan, Alan Ginsberg and Gerard Malanga(!) and started travelling into NYC to the Gotham Book Mart to get their books.
A couple of years later, I attended my first reading at the Saint Marks Poetry Project and was floored to realize that the handsome, Jim-Morrison pretty man in the second row, wearing a deep blue velvet suit, was Malanga. He may have been my first literary crush.
The photos in this slide show collection are all literary; Malanga took lots of other cool photos, like the Patti Smith/Robert Maplethorpe one, below, and is still shooting away. "
Posted 29 August 2007 - 06:20 AM