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| - Today, I realized that I've been giving way too many five-star ratings on the last few things that I've reviewed, and I thought about "gee, what have I been disappointed with in the last few weeks?"
Hello, Andy Warhol Museum.
Disclaimer: I'm a graphic designer for a living, done art school, taken my requisite art history classes, and for all intents and purposes, admire Andy Warhol.
But when it comes to the museum, honestly, I was expecting more. A lot more. In the oddity paradigm of interests, I found myself leaving PNC Park early, because the jock team I was watching was stinking up the joint, and I thought an attempt to satiate my art-geek tendencies could salvage what was turning into a disappointing Pittsburgh trip.
I went into the Warhol museum with expectations of plenty of visual stimulation, only to be relatively bored out of my wits by a generic array of materials that I could've probably found with a google search. Aside from the what felt like a blatant attempts to try and subliminally get people to subscribe to Interview, I found very little impressive, and the "special exhibits" of the evolution of the Playboy bunny and pin-up artwork was nothing more than an off-shoot wall of what appeared to be DeviantArt garbage.
I've dealt with snooty art snobs all throughout my career, and maybe it's because I was wearing a baseball t-shirt and baseball cap that obviously meant I was clearly not sophisticated enough to enjoy the Warhol, but the entire staff at the museum pretty much blew me off, didn't say a word to me, except to take my money and ask what my zip code was, and were obviously too hip for a jock like me.
And the gift shop? It's a glorified Urban Outfitters.
Sorry, Dandy Andy - I love your work, but your museum stinks.
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