ΠΠ΅Ρ ΠΎΡΠ·ΡΠ²ΠΎΠ²
ΠΠ½Π½ΠΎΡΠ°ΡΠΈΡ
| Π‘Π΅ΡΠΈΡ | Modern Classics ΠΌ |
|---|---|
| ΠΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»Π΅Ρ | ΠΡΠ³ΠΊΠΈΠΉ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»ΡΡ |
| Π‘ΡΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ | 392 |
| ΠΠΎΠ΄, ΡΠΈΡΠ°ΠΆ | 2007 |
ΠΠ΅ Π² Π½Π°Π»ΠΈΡΠΈΠΈ
ΠΡΠ·ΡΠ²Ρ
0ΠΠΏΠΈΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΠ΅ ΠΈ Ρ Π°ΡΠ°ΠΊΡΠ΅ΡΠΈΡΡΠΈΠΊΠΈ
POPism reads like a novel... Social history of the rarest kind, set down in ultra-sharp focus by someone who helped shape the events he describes The New Yorker
A cultural storm swept through the 1960s - Pop Art, Bob Dylan, psychedelia, underground movies - and at its centre sat a bemused young artist with silver hair: Andy Warhol. Andy knew everybody (from the cultural commissioner of New York to drug-driven drag queens) and everybody knew Andy. His studio, the Factory, was the place: where he created the large canvases of soup cans and Pop icons that defined Pop Art, where one could listen to the Velvet Underground and rub elbows with Edie Sedgwick and where Warhol himself could observe the comings and goings of the avant-guarde.
A cultural storm swept through the 1960s - Pop Art, Bob Dylan, psychedelia, underground movies - and at its centre sat a bemused young artist with silver hair: Andy Warhol. Andy knew everybody (from the cultural commissioner of New York to drug-driven drag queens) and everybody knew Andy. His studio, the Factory, was the place: where he created the large canvases of soup cans and Pop icons that defined Pop Art, where one could listen to the Velvet Underground and rub elbows with Edie Sedgwick and where Warhol himself could observe the comings and goings of the avant-guarde.
| ΠΠΎΠ΄ | 2871978 |
|---|---|
| Π‘Π΅ΡΠΈΡ | Modern Classics ΠΌ |
| ΠΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»Π΅Ρ | ΠΡΠ³ΠΊΠΈΠΉ ΠΏΠ΅ΡΠ΅ΠΏΠ»ΡΡ |
| ΠΠΎΠ»-Π²ΠΎ ΡΡΡΠ°Π½ΠΈΡ | 392 |
| ΠΠΎΠ΄ ΠΈΠ·Π΄Π°Π½ΠΈΡ | 2007 |
| Π Π°Π·Π΄Π΅Π» | ΠΡΠΎΡΠΈΠ΅ ΠΈΠ·Π΄Π°Π½ΠΈΡ Π½Π° Π°Π½Π³Π»ΠΈΠΉΡΠΊΠΎΠΌ |
| Π Π°Π·ΠΌΠ΅ΡΡ | 2.2 ΡΠΌ Γ 12.6 ΡΠΌ Γ 19.7 ΡΠΌ |
| ΠΠ΅Ρ | 0.31 ΠΊΠ³ |