John Reinhold

John Reinhold is a recurring presence in Andy Warhol’s diary, joining him in both the practical business of art and the rhythms of everyday companionship. The entries portray Reinhold as a trusted resource on diamonds and jewelry, but also as someone Warhol sought out for meals, conversations, and excursions over a span of years. Their relationship is marked less by formal declarations than by repeated contact and acts of confidence: Warhol asks for his judgment, invites him into his social life, and relies on him to help turn ideas into objects.

A recurring companion

Warhol’s record of Reinhold begins with an ordinary but telling outing: Reinhold picks him up, and they walk to lunch at Pearl’s. They discuss diamond dust, a material Warhol is considering for paintings. The distinction between the fine powder and the larger chips matters to the work’s appearance and cost; Warhol estimates that using the chips could raise a painting’s price to $20,000 or $30,000. Reinhold is present not simply as company but as a conversation partner while artistic decisions meet the realities of materials and value.

That pattern of shared meals continues. In 1980, Reinhold picks Warhol up after work, and they meet Henry Geldzahler before taking a cab to dinner at Da Silvano. They discuss a poster, then walk on to the Ninth Circle, where Geldzahler fields questions about Warhol’s art on his behalf. Reinhold’s role in the evening is understated, but his presence in the sequence—from pickup to dinner and onward—shows how naturally he fits into Warhol’s working and social routines.

A later dinner at Petit Robert grew out of Reinhold’s invitation to see his apartment, which had been designed by Michael Graves. Henry Geldzahler joined them at the restaurant, where Warhol unexpectedly renewed an old connection with Robert Biret, a former employer and friend from earlier decades. The occasion combined Reinhold’s invitation with Warhol’s recollection of his own past: a domestic visit opened into a dinner shaped by old professional and personal ties.

Knowledge of gems and jewelry

Reinhold’s most distinctive importance in the diary is his association with expertise in gems. In 1981, Warhol stopped at Reinhold’s office to hear news of a new diamond discovery in Australia and a fall in diamond prices. The brief visit places Reinhold within a world where new supplies and changing prices could inform the value of materials and the work made from them.

On Warhol’s birthday, Reinhold sent him 500 carats of diamond dust and twenty-seven roses. Warhol compared the quantity of dust to roughly half a tomato-soup-sized can and noted that the material could be dangerous. The gift brought together Reinhold’s knowledge of the substance and a personal gesture of celebration; the roses made the present more than a professional delivery, while the sheer quantity made the artistic material strikingly concrete.

Their conversations also extended from painting materials to jewelry design. At their regular meeting place, Think Thin, they talked about designing jewelry. Later, Warhol invited Reinhold to dinner specifically so they could discuss the jewelry business. When Warhol felt a sudden sharp pain as they were leaving the restaurant, Reinhold and the others saw him home; the episode ended when the pain subsided, but it interrupted an evening arranged around their shared business interests.

Trust, judgment, and practical help

Warhol turned to Reinhold for advice about the risks involved in buying precious stones. When Keith Richards wanted to purchase a ruby for Patti Hansen and asked where it could be appraised, Warhol identified Reinhold as the one person he trusted not to substitute a different stone. Warhol’s explanation referred to an earlier incident in San Antonio: a stone had been switched in a transaction involving Reinhold, and he paid rather than risk an unprovable dispute. The account makes the recommendation especially meaningful. Warhol’s confidence rested not on a claim that the trade was safe, but on his belief that Reinhold could be relied upon within a trade where even reputable dealers might be suspected and wrongdoing could be difficult to prove.

Reinhold also helped with Warhol’s proposed penny belts. After Warhol explained that he needed toys for a photography project, Reinhold offered to find some. In another practical matter, he obtained a government letter concerning permission to drill holes in pennies. The letter distinguished between drilling holes and defacing coins, information Warhol needed to make more belts like the one he had made for Cornelia Guest. Reinhold’s involvement turned an uncertain rule into written guidance and connected his assistance to a specific object Warhol intended to produce.

Social life and private rituals

The diary repeatedly shows Reinhold sharing Warhol’s social world without making him merely an accessory to it. In 1982, Warhol invited him to join a visit to Suzie Frankfurt’s, but Reinhold wanted to spend time with his twelve-year-old daughter, Berkeley, who had just returned from camp. Warhol instead invited both of them to Serendipity. He enjoyed talking with Berkeley, who had left camp early and was considering giving up acting to become a cartoonist. The episode records Warhol accommodating Reinhold’s family commitment and welcoming his daughter into an outing of their own.

Reinhold accompanied Warhol to Yoko Ono’s black-tie birthday dinner at The Dakota. Warhol’s attention wandered among the guests and the household details, including the waiters and Yoko Ono’s live-in partner, Sam Havadtoy. The diary’s most sustained anecdote from the evening concerns Sean Lennon, who first mistook Warhol for someone else and then recognized him. Reinhold remains the companion who brought Warhol to the gathering and was later dropped off after it, anchoring an evening that otherwise unfolds through Warhol’s encounters with its other guests.

A small exchange before one of Reinhold’s trips gives their companionship a private emblem. He wanted to tear a dollar bill in half, as he and Warhol had done before, and put the pieces back together when he returned so they could spend it. The plan made separation temporary and gave their reunion a material token: a bill rendered unusable for the moment, to be restored later. In the diary’s account, it is an affectionate, playful gesture rather than a grand statement.

Reinhold also appears in Warhol’s later plans and routines. Warhol arranged tickets for Reinhold and Alba Clemente to see Johnny Mathis, although the diary does not establish whether Reinhold attended. In another later evening, Warhol hoped to discuss the jewelry business with him over dinner. Across these entries, Reinhold’s importance lies in the continuity of his presence: he is a companion Warhol can call, invite, consult, and trust, as the subjects of their conversations move from diamond dust and ruby appraisals to coin belts, family outings, and a torn dollar held for another day.