Upon a visit to the Wolverhampton Art Gallery; the good lady and I ventured in anticipation whilst enjoying the sunshine on our walk before we marvelled over the Contemporary Collection in the thoroughly impressive infrastructural organization (considering it's free entry with many staff working voluntarily) and decor of the Gallery area downstairs. We never made it upstairs to view upon the Victorian artworks or even the shop filled with postcards and other obscenely priced insignificant objects.
The centrepiece of the exhibition-Andy Warhol’s many pieces of work, factual details of his past also an interesting talk from a close friend of his, Anthony d’Offay who spoke of the personality behind the creativity. It was an excellently well delivered talk, humorous but also poignant thus far greater than watching documentaries or read numerous articles and books on the iconic figure (even if the film did star the mightily attractive Sienna Miller). It's worth noting the gallery didn't rest on its laurels, they enclosed the space and staff roamed to chase those upstairs possessed like members of the S.S. Least not forget, the contemporary photographic prints of Richard Billingham and Paul Graham also impressive too likewise the atmosphere amongst guests.
It made me think, seeing as I'm practically 95 per cent deaf and as I couldn't hear what my lady labelled a 'posh, unassuming' accent of d'Offay, I had to read the lips of his friend and his own to the best I could. Then I wondered of my interest in art which is not to the extent of my mother who is greatly gifted with a paintbrush or pencil for which she attended a London Art College of some sort or my older brother's work but is much like my interest of Renaissance Literature that outshine my musical tastes. Which is surprising considering my brother and younger sister also many of my associates have a deep interest in music perhaps, music to the hearing world is what inspirational literature and the occasional splendid artwork is to me.