Andy Warhol—Fred Hughes
The Andy Warhol DiariesAndy Warhol and Fred Hughes’s long collaboration took shape around Interview magazine, where editorial work, commercial ambition, and Warhol’s artistic business met. Hughes became the magazine’s president when Warhol took full ownership, and their working relationship continued through expansion plans, financial disagreements, and changing judgments about the art market. Its durability is visible not in a single declaration of loyalty but in the recurring work of keeping the magazine and Warhol’s wider enterprise moving.
Taking charge of Interview
In 1975, Warhol bought out Peter Brant to become Interview magazine’s full owner and publisher, while Hughes assumed the title of president. Until then, Warhol had kept largely aloof from the magazine’s day-to-day operations. After the change, he began visiting the office to review art director Marc Balet’s layouts and arranging lunches to pitch prospective advertisers. The division of titles marked a shift toward a more active partnership: Warhol became involved in the magazine’s daily decisions while Hughes took on its presidency.
Interview magazine also gave Warhol a new way to draw people into his orbit. As the cost of making commercially presentable films rose, the possibility of appearing in one became a less reliable attraction. The magazine offered another promise: a place in its pages. By 1976, its circulation was growing, its self-mocking glamour appealed to celebrities, and its staff supplied a steady stream of fresh faces. Warhol often conducted cover interviews himself, sometimes with a staff member. The magazine thus served as both a publication and a social engine, sustaining the encounters and public visibility that had once clustered around his films.
Publicity as a working practice
The partnership operated within a larger enterprise in which publicity and income reinforced one another. Warhol’s commissioned portraits remained a major source of revenue, while the magazine required ongoing support. The portrait process itself was methodical: Warhol took about sixty Polaroids with a Polaroid Big Shot camera, selected images for conversion to acetate, and adjusted the chosen likeness before it was enlarged and screen-printed. His assistants prepared canvases in different flesh-toned backgrounds, and slight misalignments between painted color and photographic image produced the portraits’ characteristic shifting effect. This was Warhol’s own production process, not a documented task for Hughes, but it clarifies the commercial and creative system within which their magazine partnership existed.
The magazine’s interviews and photographs also made public image something constructed in front of others. In 1978, a visit to interview Shaun Cassidy began with cautious, standard answers suited to his young fans; Warhol observed that Cassidy seemed to change after walking through a lobby full of screaming admirers. During the ensuing photo session, photographer Barry McKinley pushed him toward a more uninhibited performance. In 1981, David Hockney came to lunch, was filmed by Vincent Fremont, and then sat for an Interview magazine conversation. Such episodes show the publication’s work extending beyond print: it organized encounters in which a celebrity’s public persona could be observed, recorded, and shaped. Hughes’s presidency belonged to the institutional side of that continuing operation.
Social ties around the office
The relationship also appears within the overlapping social world of the office, though the diary offers fewer direct accounts of private exchanges between the two men than of their shared work. In December 1978, Warhol described his habit of putting gifts and incoming mail into a box at the office. Hughes had once passed along notes from Halston, including one from Jackie O.; Halston later began saving his own notes instead. Warhol also learned through Hughes that Robert Kennedy, Jr. and others had discussed whether to invite them to a party. The detail places Hughes in the flow of information and invitations around Warhol, where professional contact and social access met.
By 1985, that practical entanglement included plans to establish Interview magazine in Los Angeles. Hughes returned from the city with a possible business-zoned house near Doheny and Melrose under consideration. Its price had been reduced from one million dollars to five hundred thousand, but the initial impression that it needed no work gave way to concerns about air conditioning and wiring. In September, Hughes went back to Los Angeles after the deal fell through because the zoning could not be changed. The failed purchase shows the partnership testing expansion against the concrete limits of property and regulation, rather than treating growth as a matter of image alone.
Success, friction, and the art market
Their differences became especially clear in a September 1985 discussion of Interview magazine’s expenses. Warhol praised the issue featuring Sylvester Stallone but doubted that it could pay for itself. Hughes insisted that he knew the costs and understood the business. Warhol answered by recalling an earlier period when a large debt had gone unnoticed. The exchange reveals a consequential tension: Hughes asserted command of the magazine’s finances, while Warhol’s memory of undisclosed debt made reassurance insufficient. Their collaboration could involve confidence and dependence without removing questions about accountability.
The issue’s later performance complicated that argument. Warhol recorded that the Stallone issue became Interview magazine’s biggest seller ever. Its success offered a striking counterpoint to his initial concern that it would not cover its costs: the magazine could exceed expectations, even when its economics were uncertain in advance. The record does not establish that the sales result resolved their disagreement, but it shows the commercial risks they were managing together.
Hughes also offered Warhol direct advice about what to paint. In December 1985, after visiting galleries, he urged Warhol to find new ideas and pointed to Roy Lichtenstein’s paintings, which were selling rapidly at prices of two or three hundred thousand dollars. A few months later, Hughes called to report that Warhol’s Hammer & Sickle paintings had sold for less than expected. Warhol attributed the drop in his prices to an auction and criticized the timing of a Tony Shafrazi show, imagining that a later exhibition might have allowed them to keep painting together. He also reflected that exhibitions consume material: once a body of work has been shown, it is over. These conversations place Hughes not only in magazine management but in Warhol’s continuing reckoning with prices, artistic strategy, and the limited life of a particular body of work.
An ongoing, imperfect partnership
Across the years represented here, Hughes appears as a president, business interlocutor, source of market intelligence, and participant in the social arrangements surrounding Warhol. Their collaboration had tangible results: a more active magazine operation, a high-profile publication, ambitious plans for expansion, and a record-setting best-selling issue. It also carried persistent uncertainty about costs, debt, property, and the value of new work. Rather than ending in a neatly documented resolution, the relationship emerges through repeated decisions and disagreements—the continuing labor of maintaining a shared enterprise.