In 1980, Andy Warhol’s exhibit of 10 silk-screen portraits titled “Ten Portraits of Jews of the Twentieth Century” was received with scorn by many art critics and praise by the public who understood and appreciated it. Thirty years later, comic storyteller Josh Kornbluth takes up the issue of the once controversial exhibit and what it means — to him personally and to the larger community of art lovers.
“Andy Warhol: Good for the Jews?”
Where: Theater J, Washington D.C. Jewish Community Center, 1529 16th St. NW
When: 7:30 p.m. Wednesday-Thursday; 8 p.m. Saturday; 3 and 7:30 p.m. Sunday; through March 21
Info: $30 to $55; 800-494-8497; theaterj.org
Produced by Theater J, Kornbluth’s one-man show, “Andy Warhol: Good for the Jews?” is in part a rambling discourse explaining how Kornbluth was introduced to the exhibit, how his stage show took shape, how Kornbluth navigates the world as a father, the son of a communist, an atheist-maybe-on-the-way-to-becoming-a-Jewish man. That part is all right. Kornbluth is an entertaining fellow whose low-key comedy is easy to take.
But far more interesting are Kornbluth’s revelations about Warhol, the development of his art and the seeds of the 1980 exhibit found in Warhol’s early life. Kornbluth’s Warhol is not the jet-setting Andy we know so well, the Warhol of the Velvet Underground, Factory and Studio 54 days. It’s his predecessor: a sensitive, sickly boy in Pittsburgh who often knelt to pray in a Byzantine-Catholic church rich with icons.
Kornbluth stands in front of a series of 10 large portraits, the faces of the people in “Ten Portraits,” all of whom altered the world in extraordinary ways: Albert Einstein, Golda Meir, George Gershwin, Martin Buber, Louis Brandeis, Sarah Bernhardt, Gertrude Stein, Franz Kafka, Sigmund Freud and the Marx Brothers.
Scene designer Alexander V. Nichols uses huge projections spanning the back wall of the stage — two rows, five panels per row — each projection a paler version of one of Warhol’s portraits. In terms of color, the set is at odds with the original brilliant prints. Perhaps Kornbluth wanted to emphasize where Warhol began, with black and white photographs of his subjects. Or perhaps director David Dower thought vivid colors would draw too much attention from Kornbluth. Still, the genius of the portraits becomes clear as Kornbluth stops to evaluate the contributions of each monumental personality.
It’s impossible to talk about Warhol without discussing iconography and Kornbluth deals deftly with Warhol’s style, motives and achievements in the exhibit. Was it crass exploitation as the vitriolic critics wrote or can we believe Warhol himself, when he said he just liked the faces? As for the struggle to decide on which 10 to include in the show, Kornbluth re-creates with subtle humor the curious process by which Warhol’s subjects were chosen.
“Andy Warhol: Good for the Jews?” lasts about 90 minutes. During that time, Dower has his actor move a few steps in one direction or another. But basically, Kornbluth stands center stage and talks. Not for a minute is it boring.
Best of all, the Jewish Community Center of Greater Washington, the home of Theater J, is showing the original Warhol exhibit in its Ann Loeb Bronfman Gallery. “Ten Portraits of Jews of the Twentieth Century in Retrospect” will be on view through May 2. If Kornbluth doesn’t convince you that Warhol’s art is still provocative and powerful, the original portraits surely will.
