‘The Collaboration’ @ Young Vic Theatre
Currently on view at the Young Vic theatre is a fresh adaptation of an infamous alliance. The Collaboration, written by Anthony McCarten and directed by Kwame Kwei-Armah, portrays Andy Warhol and Jean-Michel Basquiat's process throughout their collaborative creation of a series of canvases made during the early to mid-1980s.
History loves to call it a “bromance,” but that seems like a topical understatement for something much more substantial, not to mention productive. Call it creative collusion, a power couple or a motley duo–it was a collaboration; one of two minds, art styles, and spirits.
Jeremy Pope and Paul Bettany in The Collaboration. Photo by Marc Brenner. Courtesy of Young Vic Theatre.
Halfway down The Cut in the creative hotspot of Southwark sits the Young Vic theatre, a junior and more experimental incarnation of Old Vic, its predecessor down the street. The Young Vic embraces a progressive posture on the performing arts, and with tickets to most shows starting at a price point of £10, it makes the prospect of theatre-going feel positively accessible. Andy Warhol, played by actor Paul Bettany, bashes it out with the savant fledgling, Jean-Michel Basquiat, played by Jeremy Pope. When walking into the theatre, one is met with reproductions of Basquiat's graffiti lining the walls of the entryway. A live DJ sits in the wings, pumping out period hip-hop in between scenes.
XANA in The Collaboration. Photo by Marc Brenner. Courtesy of Young Vic Theatre.
Alec Newman and Jeremy Pope in The Collaboration. Photo by Marc Brenner. Courtesy of Young Vic Theatre.
The performance portrays Warhol and Basquiat as equitably apprehensive about one another as well as fiercely preservative of their own practice. Set up by their agent and dealer Bruno Bischofberger, played by Alec Newman, “He's not a real artist if he doesn't paint,” explains Basquiat apprehensively. “I don't think we can work together,” adds Warhol. Bischofberger capitalised on a pivotal moment, pairing the upward momentum of Basquiat with the petering fame of Warhol like a ringmaster staging acrobats. What he didn't know is that the pair would develop a love for one another–the kind of love that comes from sober familiarity, reluctant fondness, and entails genuinely difficult compromise.
Artists Andy Warhol and Jean-Michel Basquiat in New York, 1985. Photo by Michael Halsband. Photo Courtesy of Swann Auction Galleries.
The play's storyline evokes a now-iconic photograph taken in 1985 by Michael Halsband of the pair dressed in boxing gear, alluding to their peculiarly combative, but perhaps accordingly productive, dynamic. But just how staged was their combat? The first half of the play takes place on their first day in the studio–a laboured and intellectualised act that explores their first acquaintance, self-righteous and doubtful. The conversation plays like an art history lesson, with each artist's ethos directly threatening the others’ entire understanding of art. “Don't you have to make a comment?” stresses Basquiat, to which Warhol responds, “ I am commenting in a neutral way. I am making art that makes you ignore it.” Basquiat resists mechanical order, insisting that messy is good, it is genuine, and represents “real life.”
Jeremy Pope and Paul Bettany in The Collaboration. Photo by Marc Brenner. Courtesy of Young Vic Theatre.
Pope as Basquiat's youthful, bucolic energy passively challenges the steadfast, overconfident poise of Bettany as Warhol, who somehow manages to be both gawky and graceful in the same breath. It's like a scrimmage between a puppy and a war-horse, choreographed to perfection with both actors circling the canvas like starlings, trading back and forth but never sharing it. Their strategy oddly entails a requisite of defacing each others’ paintings. Warhol is uncomfortable and only wants to film Basquiat while painting and ask him probing questions on camera. Basquiat pushes the brush into Warhol’s hand, imploring him to produce.
Paul Bettany in The Collaboration. Photo by Marc Brenner. Courtesy of Young Vic Theatre.
The second half picks up back in the studio but on a different note. Three years have passed, and it is apparent how much we have missed. Warhol has become a sort of father figure–protective but patronising and caring but condescending. Their relationship has lost its intellectual politeness. Although they are friends, Warhol's enduring desire for both commercial validation and monetary success has not subsided and manifests in sometimes sketchy behaviour.
Jeremy Pope in The Collaboration. Photo by Marc Brenner. Courtesy of Young Vic Theatre.
Basquiat is clearly suffering from drug addiction. A moment of sexual tension reveals his upper hand in the relationship and the suggestion that his being taken advantage of by Warhol may not only be conscious but willfully tolerated. For Warhol, it is important to have power, but Basquiat is happy to relinquish it for emotional satisfaction and the solace of painting–resolving power, money, and status to be relatively inconsequential.
The artists painting Clearboy in Warhol’s studio at 860 Broadway, 1984. © The Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts, Inc.
Despite having honed an affectionate closeness, their dynamic maintains a ruthlessly tense report. Basquiat finally challenges Warhol and his dissociative coolness in a confrontational blowout, which nearly ends it all. “Produce? You reproduce,” he taunts and tells him to stop looking down on him. “This is art, Jean. Identity has no place.” The way they speak is reflective of deep intimacy and the kind of affinity that allows honesty in all its brutality. Warhol implores him to get clean. “I hope you don't die, Jean...You've already brought me back to life.”
Jean-Michel Basquiat and Andy Warhol. Bananas, 1984-1985. Acrylic, silkscreen ink and oil stick on canvas, 222.9 x 206.7 cm.
But did they just break up to make up? The blowout seems to be exactly what they needed. They have both come to terms with their own self-loathing. Finally, for the first time, we see them paint together on the same canvas at the same time. This is big. This has never happened before. No more voyeurism or dialogue, no more games, just a silent surrender and a shared respite–a collaboration.
The Collaboration is on view through 2 April 2022 at the Young Vic. A feature film adaptation of Anthony McCarten’s play is currently underway.
Camille Moreno
Features Co-Editor, MADE IN BED