Michael Jackson
The Andy Warhol DiariesMichael Jackson enters Andy Warhol’s diaries less as a biographical subject than as a star whose public image changes from one setting to another. Across an interview, an Interview cover, a brief backstage meeting, and a concert staged for crowds, Warhol watches the machinery of celebrity at close range: carefully managed answers give way to a distinct public presence, while the scale of performance makes even a handshake and a sequined glove seem larger than ordinary life.
Interview and the public persona
Warhol’s account of an Interview encounter with Jackson turns on the gap between what an idol says about fame and what happens when he meets his audience. Because his fans were young, the interview had to remain clean. Jackson gave what Warhol regarded as stock answers, insisting that being an idol with thousands of girls screaming did not change him. Yet as they walked through the lobby and past the screaming girls, Warhol saw him change. The contrast makes the encounter more revealing than the interview itself: a rehearsed statement of constancy is followed by a visible shift in the presence of fans.
The diary also places Jackson within the magazine’s broader business of making and circulating celebrity. Interview’s growing cachet brought famous people to its pages, and Warhol’s promise to put someone in the magazine had become a regular invitation. A cover could thus be both a portrait and a piece of publicity, with the potential to affect newsstand sales as well as the subject’s image. Jackson’s later cover gives that system a concrete form: the magazine staff approved an image Warhol did not like, and representatives of Time came to the office to assess its commercial promise.
A face prepared for print
In March 1984, Warhol finished a Michael Jackson cover and disliked the result, though the young people in the office liked it. Around forty people from Time came to see the image and said it should raise newsstand sales by 400. A representative later called to confirm that they would use it, apparently the yellow version. Warhol cautioned him to hope it would not be bumped on Saturday. The episode records the cover moving through approval and publication decisions, where visual preference, projected sales, and the possibility of a last-minute change all mattered.
The cover sits within Warhol’s established portrait process. He photographed a sitter roughly sixty times with a Polaroid Big Shot, selected a small group of images, and worked with a screen printer to turn the chosen photograph into a silkscreen. He adjusted the image cosmetically, enlarging lips or trimming noses as he thought appropriate, then transferred it to canvas and layered the screened photograph over painted color. The method made a portrait a crafted image rather than a transparent likeness. For Jackson, the diary documents the finished cover and the office’s response, but does not specify the particular changes made to his face; the significance lies in the contrast between Warhol’s dislike and the staff’s approval of the image intended for circulation.
The pre-concert meeting
In August 1984, Warhol worked until seven before Susan Blond suggested they might meet Jackson in a hotel room ahead of his concert at Madison Square Garden. The crowd outside the Penta Hotel was so large that the taxi could not approach the building, leaving the party to walk. They found the meeting room by taking Elevator B; Calvin was already there with Marina Schiano and his girlfriend Kelly, and Rosanna Arquette and Sean Lennon also appeared. The gathering brought together people from different corners of Warhol’s social and professional world, all waiting for the star to arrive.
When Jackson appeared, Blond pushed Warhol toward him. The meeting quickly dissolved into people pushing Warhol away and then back toward Jackson; after a handshake, the encounter was over. Warhol described Jackson’s hand as feeling like foam rubber and noted that the sequined glove was much larger than a small fashion accessory, comparing it to a catcher’s mitt. His concrete impressions register the distance between an intimate greeting and an image designed for the stage: even at close range, Jackson’s signature costume seemed built to exceed ordinary scale.
The concert and its afterimage
At Madison Square Garden, the scale became literal. Warhol describes laser beams and a film in which Jackson pulled a sword from a stone. The spectacle enlarged the star through light, narrative, and action, a different kind of appearance from the compressed hotel-room meeting. In the diary’s sequence, Jackson first seems shy amid the crowd pressing around him, then becomes the center of a performance whose images and effects fill the arena.
The night continued at Mr. Chow’s, where Warhol’s party sat near Anthony Quinn. That quieter dinner was part of the same evening’s circuit of celebrity, but it contrasts with the obstructed approach to the hotel, the crowded meeting, and the concert’s theatrical effects. Taken together, the encounters show Jackson’s presence being experienced through distinct frames: the interview subject who gives stock answers, the cover image weighed for its sales potential, the shy figure briefly reached in a crowded room, and the performer made monumental for an arena audience. The diary’s value is not a complete account of Jackson’s life, but its record of how a star’s image shifts as it passes from conversation to print to stage.