The Andy Warhol Museum

As organized, objective, and sterile as they try to be, archives are messy places. They exist behind closed doors, private spaces within more public ones, the way closets and bedrooms are. The archive at The Warhol interests me for these reasons; though institutional, the space is inherently personal, private.  — Adam Milner

For the next few weeks, we’ll be featuring photographs and short stories by Pittsburgh artist Adam Milner each Wednesday.

Working within a social and performance practice, Milner creates collections and archives that blur boundaries between private and public, the intimate and detached.

His installation Remains is on view at The Warhol through January 15, 2017. Remains is comprised of numerous small objects—a wisdom tooth from an ex-boyfriend cast in silver, objects from Andy Warhol’s personal archive and life, fingernails from a stranger—that add up to bodies, in the way an archaeologist might reconstruct a figure with excavated bones and fossils.

This story originally appeared in the fall 2016 issue of Carnegie Magazine, a quarterly publication of Carnegie Museums of Pittsburgh.

Art as an Equalizer A new program at The Andy Warhol Museum makes it a more welcoming destination for visitors with autism and sensory sensitivities.     Story by Julie Hannon Photography by Renee Rosensteel It’s a toss-up for favorite moment of the morning for 14-year-old Jacob Schmitt: lying on the floor with Andy Warhol’s “floating balloons” dancing overhead, or mashing together blood-red lips and a pastel-colored cat in a collage he crafted in the underground studio of Andy’s museum, The Factory. “I feel like myself when I do art,” says Jacob. 

For Jacob’s mom, Jane Stadnik, it’s about something just as powerful: spending two enjoyable hours in a museum with her son. Jacob has autism, and outings to busy public places can be overwhelming for him and those around him. But on this particular Saturday morning at The Andy Warhol Museum, the goal is making teens and young adults like Jacob with sensory sensitivities—and their caregivers—feel welcome. “When you come to a program like this, where people are knowledgeable about autism, if he’s stimming [self-stimulating behavior], it’s not a big deal. People go on their way and it makes it so much more of a relaxed experience,” says Stadnik, who made the trip from Ambridge after learning about the free program on Facebook. “Art has been really inclusive for Jacob. In math class, he notices that he’s different from other kids. But when he rolls into art class, he’s like everyone else. It’s the same here. Art is an equalizer.” This morning’s sensory-friendly program is not unlike most of the museum’s tours that introduce visitors to Warhol’s life, art, and practice. It reveals many artifacts from the Pop artist’s storied life—from his working-class Pittsburgh roots to his New York stardom. It also points to the lasting impact Warhol still has on artists working today, including the global sensation Chinese activist-artist Ai Weiwei. There’s even dedicated time for artmaking, including Warhol’s signature process of silkscreening. What is a little different with this tour is the preparation. Knowing that many in today’s group are sensitive to loud noises, bright lights, and crowds, in advance of the visit staff made available a “pre-story” video, designed to inform participants about what they could expect to find at the museum—from the sights and sounds of specific galleries to the location of the bathrooms. On each floor of the museum is a quiet area that includes a bench and a box full of calming aids that participants grab as needed: noise-cancelling headphones and sunglasses as well as super-stretchy fidgets and weighted blankets—self-regulating tools that promote focus and concentration, decrease stress, and ­keep fidgeting fingers busy. Also on hand for support and conversation: a small team of occupational therapy students from the University of Pittsburgh and Chatham University. “It’s not about changing the experience of being at the museum or how Warhol’s art is viewed,” says Leah Morelli, The Warhol’s school programs coordinator who developed the pilot program in partnership with a focus group and advisory committee. “It’s about providing multiple pathways for discovery and a successful experience.” The art of reading a face

On the museum’s sixth floor, artist-educator Christen DiLeonardo pauses in front of a series of blue, gold, and grey silkscreens of Jackie Kennedy. The paintings, she explains  to a wandering group in tow, are significant because they combine two of Warhol’s signature themes—celebrity and fatal disaster. Fascinated by the relentless media coverage of President John F. Kennedy’s assassination in 1963, Warhol zeroed in on the First Lady, culling from newspapers and Life magazine eight images that, when cropped, juxtapose her facial expressions immediately before and after her husband’s murder to powerful effect.   “Here Warhol gives us a rounded view of Jackie at her most raw,” DiLeonardo says. “In which images does she look happy?” Pointing to a canvas featuring the First Lady beaming in a pillbox hat she wore on that fateful November day, Dale Johnston replies, “that one.” “Yes!” DiLeonardo counters. “What tells you that she’s happy?” “She’s smiling,” asserts Johnston. “Yes! What is it about her mouth that tells us that?” DiLeonardo asks, this time prompting the larger group. As if on cue, two participants use their fingers to push the corners of their lips toward the sky.   For Johnston, 27, and other adults and children on the autism spectrum, reading facial expressions and nuanced body language is a challenge that art can help them overcome. Johnston is no stranger to art museums. An especially big fan of Warhol friend and collaborator Keith Haring, Johnston and his mother, Shawn, say they both enjoy art, how it makes them feel, and what it has to teach them. “It’s amazing how art opens him up,” says Shawn, noting that Dale is also active with Manchester Craftsman’s Guild. “I like to make things with my hands,” adds Dale, a common refrain from the day’s participants, all of whom spent about an hour in the museum’s studio doing any combination of three projects: watercolor, collage, and silkscreening. 

“Coming to an art museum, looking at portraits, making portraits, that’s more of an adult way to practice these very important life skills,” says Kelly Ammerman, a teacher at City Connections, Pittsburgh Public Schools’ community-based life skills and independent living program designed for students ages 18 to 21 who have moderate to severe disabilities. “Programs like this help get these young people out into the community, engaging with people and in topics that interest them,” says Ammerman, who has accompanied both teens and young adults to sensory-friendly events ­at The Warhol. “It also allows them to get the lay of the land; so, for some, they can feel prepared and comfortable coming back on their own.” Twenty-year-old Maximus Chaney was so inspired by Ai Weiwei’s artful protest of placing fresh flowers inside the basket of his bicycle each day while banned from leaving China for 600 days, he vowed to build a bicycle out of Legos, a material also used by Ai. “I might even donate it,” he says.  “I know one thing for certain. I’d like to come back [to The Warhol] and bring my grandmother.” In an exercise on the second floor, with Warhol’s colorful Pop portraits as the backdrop, program leader Morelli gives the participants photocopies of faces—some expressing happiness, sadness, even indifference—and sends them off in pairs to match the emotions on the paper to those in Warhol’s paintings. For ninth-grader Bella, on her first visit to The Warhol from Streetsboro, Ohio, it was a good social exercise. “We knew it would be a great opportunity for a hands-on experience, where Bella could learn and create, and also meet and interact with new people socially, which is always good,” says Bella’s mom, Keri Stoyle, who found the program online while making plans for the pair to come to Pittsburgh to paddleboard and ride bikes. “She’s learning to advocate for herself.” Like any gathering of teenagers, there was, of course, talk of music. At Jacob’s mention of his love for Green Day, Chrisoula Perdziola, whose teenage daughter, Eva, has autism and is limited verbally, notes that despite the fact that all five of Eva’s senses are heightened, she loves listening to music—Green Day and Foo Fighters, in particular. “And she likes to listen to it loud,” says Perdziola, laughing. Embracing difference

Perdziola remembers opening day of The Andy Warhol Museum in 1994. She still  has a Polaroid of herself walking in the front door. That same day she bought a print of one of Warhol’s most famous paintings, Flowers, in the museum store. Four years later, when they were preparing to have Eva, they put the print in her room, and it’s been there ever since. “Warhol did a lot of art outside of the box, and kids and adults on the spectrum  live outside of the box,” says Perdziola, who works for PA Museums (the state’s museum association), is active in Autism Connection of Pennsylvania, and brings the perspective of a caregiver to The Warhol’s advisory committee for sensory-friendly programming. “For me, The Warhol is a place of acceptance for uniqueness and differences of all kinds. We feel relaxed and at home here. That’s big.”

Having Perdziola as an advisor, as well as Jessica Benham—who is autistic, a doctoral student at Pitt, and heavily involved in Pittsburgh disability advocacy as director of public policy at the Pittsburgh Center for Autistic Advocacy—is important, says Roger Ideishi, associate professor of  rehabilitation sciences at Temple University and a national consultant for sensory-friendly programming. He’s partnered with The Smithsonian, the Academy of Natural Sciences in Philadelphia, the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, The Warhol, and others. Best practices for sensory-friendly programs within the arts are still emerging, he notes. The Warhol is among a growing list of local cultural organizations—Carnegie Science Center, the Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra, Pittsburgh Ballet, the Pittsburgh Cultural Trust, and Children’s Museum of Pittsburgh—to program specifically with those on the autism spectrum in mind. Since 2009, The Warhol has partnered with Wesley Spectrum High School in Whitehall to develop and deliver an intensive in-school art program that helps students on the autism spectrum or with behavioral health issues identify facial expressions,  body language, and social cues. The Warhol’s pilot sensory-friendly series, made possible through the support of The Edith L. Trees Charitable Trust, the Allegheny Regional Asset District, and the FISA Foundation in memory of Dr. Mary Margaret Kimmel, is just one part of the museum’s comprehensive accessibility initiative for museum visitors with disabilities. Also available: an inclusive audio guide, tactile art reproductions and signage, and assistive listening devices in  The Warhol Theater. “What’s great about arts organizations across the country is that they’re recognizing that there’s been a group of people in society who rarely get the opportunities to experience the arts in multiple ways like many of us do—as patrons, as art makers, as art appreciators,” says Ideishi. “The Warhol is really looking closely at how we can capture the strengths of these individuals and help fill wants and needs.”

What’s success look like? “For the museum, it could be that it’s living and  even expanding its mission,” says Ideishi. But he’s the first to note that measuring the outcome may be different for everybody. “We hope to see return participants; I think we’d all be happy with that result,”   he notes. “At the same time, we could see    a family come to a program, stay for only a short time, and think to ourselves, wow, that’s disappointing—only to learn later from the parent that it was the best 20 minutes that family ever spent together in a public place. So it’s often very individualized, and that’s something organizations need to consider.”   Where The Warhol is ahead of the curve, he says, is with young adults and adult programming. Benham, who is often asked to advise on programs within Pittsburgh, says The Warhol is a needed leader in this respect. The transition to adulthood for those on the spectrum—in terms of social services, health care, employment, even entertainment—is a growing challenge. One in six adults in the United States are living with a disability. And according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, one in 68 children has been identified with an autism spectrum disorder. As these kids continue to come of age, they’re the next generation of patrons, says Benham. Which is precisely the reason she believes occupational therapy students, in addition to museum staff, benefit from spending time immersed in the culture of a population that is part of their clientele. “The saying goes, if you’ve met one  autistic person, you’ve met one autistic person,” says Benham. She notes that she had an interesting interaction with one of the occupational therapy students while  participating in the program at The Warhol. “It turns out I had one of her family members in a class I teach at Pitt. This interaction gave the student, I hope, a moment to think about the fact that this person who is autistic is just like me, is a graduate student just like me, is human just like me. When people look at me, they often have no idea I’m autistic. There is no one universal physical attribute or singular characteristic for being autistic.” Like many of the program’s participants, Benham says, the level of support she may need often depends on the situation and   the timing. “The Warhol’s staff is learning to interact with all people, and meeting them where they are,” says Perdziola. “And in that, there’s real value.”

Exposures: Adam Milner: Remains

by Adam Milner

Remains is an installation by Adam Milner, presented as part of The Andy Warhol Museum Exposures series. Honoring Andy Warhol’s early emergence in New York, the series features artists in Pittsburgh at the start of their careers.

The underwear were cuter than I had imagined, a little sexier. Pink Calvin Klein briefs. The subtle stains on them made them too real, more human than I had expected.

When I heard about the box of personal effects packed up by the hospital after Andy Warhol’s death and addressed to a non-existent Mrs. Warhol, my heart sank. Could anything be more vulnerable or intimate than the very things he carried on his back as he checked himself into the place he would die, the last things worn or touched by choice?

The box of his final effects contains his backpack, the clothes he wore (including the pink briefs), and his hospital bracelet. Among the items in the backpack are several pairs of eyeglasses, an electric shaver, his keys, echinacea, some perfume the color of whisky. Did he expect this would be a routine visit, that he’d be back to normal life in a few days? Or did he know this was the end of life as he knew it? I can’t fathom this feeling. I look at these things and I see a person all too real—tender, vulnerable, and possibly very scared.

The objects strike me not only for their obvious associations, but also because they bring up questions about archives in general. We know Warhol as the celebrity-obsessed artist who blurred his personal and professional life, centering his complex persona in his practice. The Time Capsules(1974–1987) further blur this line between life and art, converting personal detritus into an extended work, meant for conservation and museum exhibition. But what of all the other things in his home or this backpack? Who decided these things should become part of the half a million archived objects in the museum? As I stare at the underwear, I wonder where Andy’s body begins and ends, and who makes decisions surrounding how these parts and pieces (nearly phantom limbs) exist in the world.

Often, the things we interact with become part of us. Are clothes part of the body? Wigs? Actual hair? Contact lenses? Gum? The food in my stomach? An eyelash on your cheek? The body is a very porous thing, and it’s hard for me to draw the line between what’s part of it and what’s not. That’s, partially, why these items feel so intimate, like physical fragments of a person.

For Remains, I’ve treated The Warhol’s archives like an archaeological site, searching for and excavating Warhol’s body. I end up with more questions than answers. The items oscillate between feeling so specific and personal to seeming generic and mass produced. Other items feel strangely familiar, resembling items in my own home and studio (a lock of hair from a friend, crystals, dental molds). I find myself wondering: Do we have something special in common? Or does everyone have this stuff? Maybe Warhol just had so much of everything that such connections are inevitable—I’m not sure.

In this work, I’ve combined my personal things with his. I’ve included items from the Time Capsules and from the general archives, as well as Polaroid facsimiles. With an attention toward items related to the body, I’ve constructed a fragmented pair of figures in the archives section of the museum. Various dualities might come to mind with this pair (him and me, male and female, natural and fabricated), but such binaries blur and categories become complicated as our things intermingle. By working closely with museum staff to provide only hints of information about the identity of the objects, viewers encounter a compilation of items that they must make sense of themselves. Thus, the aura of Warhol hangs over the collective bodies, while each item is open for interpretation and up for interrogation. Items level out, and hair is hair, fingernails are fingernails, and underwear is still underwear.

Thank you to the entire staff at The Warhol for supporting this new project. I want to give a special thank you to Jessica Beck who noticed complicated relationships and kinships between mine and Warhol’s sensibilities—in our collecting habits, in our anxieties about the body, and in a quiet longing embedded in so much of the work. Without Jessica’s warm invitation to create this work and constant support throughout the process, it would not exist. I want to thank the archives department of the museum, specifically Erin Byrne and Matt Gray, for allowing this work to intersect with the archives so fundamentally and for being my guides and at times my literal hands and eyes sorting through the thousands of items in the archives. Their knowledge of the items in the archive was an invaluable resource crucial to the creation of this work.

Remains is on view on The Warhol’s third floor November 2, 2016–January 15, 2017. Milner discusses his installation Remains with Jessica Beck, The Warhol’s associate curator of art, during an artist talk on Saturday, November 5, 2016.

Activist Print is a collaboration between The Andy Warhol Museum, BOOM Concepts (a creative hub for artists to incubate ideas), and the North Side Pittsburgh printmaking studio Artists Image Resource (AIR). Activist Print is inspired by the long history of artists using silkscreen and print-based media to raise awareness of contemporary issues and inspire change.

The Disappearing Black Culture in Pittsburgh Series by Paradise Gray is on view on the facade of Rosa Villa, across the street from The Warhol, through December 2016.

This is the fifth post in a series about the development process of The Warhol’s new audio guide.

Since the beginning of this year, we’ve been developing Out Loud, The Warhol’s new audio guide, and I’m excited to announce that we are launching it on October 25. The app is available to download for iOS devices from the App Store; visitors to the museum can also borrow a device at the museum for free.

I’m proud of Out Loud because it is truly the result of working directly with users, employing user-centered design and agile development processes to shape the final product. While the app offers perspectives and information on Andy Warhol that we hope all visitors will enjoy, we took on an inclusive design process and built the app with visitors who are blind or have low vision in mind.

The best way of understanding our users’ needs was to go straight to the source. Before we drew a single wireframe or wrote a single line of code, the app team talked to partners with visual impairments about how technology can be used to strengthen a museum experience. For both technical and audio content development we treated user testing sessions as milestones, moments to test specific features. What we learned during a session would dictate the direction we would take, whether that meant scrapping a particular design or re-editing audio to tell more concise and engaging stories.

Participants experience tactile reproductions of Warhol works at the Accessibility Meetup held in July 2016 at The Andy Warhol Museum.

We also tested the app at every opportunity possible. In mid-July, we hosted a Pittsburgh-area Accessibility Meetup at The Warhol in which community members with different abilities came to test the app. It was quite humbling: we learned that, no matter how well-designed the technology is, an audio guide is only as good as the museum experience around it. Everything, from the visitor services representative who hands a device to a visitor at the admission desk to the kind of headphones we offer, can make or break the experience. We applied these learnings in early August when we presented the app to our colleagues in town for the Leadership Exchange in Arts and Disability conference.

Attendees at the LEAD 2016 conference listen to Out Loud while exploring tactile reproductions of Warhol artworks.

We continue to see Out Loud as a work in progress. You could consider the Out Loud we’re launching now a beta version, a way for us to publicly test the ideas we’ve been working on for the past nine months before we expand it further. This version includes content for the seventh floor of our museum, covering Warhol’s life through early 1962, the moment right before he produces his most iconic works. We’ll be collecting feedback from visitors to help shape how we tell stories about this prolific, multifaceted, and often contradictory artist.

Gallery attendants manning our admission desk often tell me that one of the requests they receive the most from visitors is an audio guide. I’m thrilled that, with the launch of Out Loud, we’ll now be able to offer new and diverse perspectives on Warhol’s life and art  in an engaging way. Even more exciting than opening up new perspectives on Warhol’s work is opening up the museum to audiences that might not always feel comfortable here. In the video above, Ann Lapidus, one of the community partners whose honest and continual input was pivotal to creating the app, describes how Out Loud is innovative because it allows people with visual impairments to enjoy a full and independent experience at the museum.

Whether or not you’re in Pittsburgh, you can be our next user tester. Download the app today, or borrow one of our devices for free at the museum, and let us know what you think!

Accessibility initiatives at The Warhol are generously supported by Allegheny Regional Asset District, The Edith L. Trees Charitable Trust, and the FISA Foundation in honor of Dr. Mary Margaret Kimmel.

“Happy 88th Birthday” Andy Warhol (2016) by artist Jourdan Zebraa

 Electric Digital on Device

 #AndyWarhol #Happy88thBirthday #DigitalArt #WarholWednesday #jzebraa

Portrait of Andy I created for his birthday on Saturday.  Happy Birthday, Andy!

Designing an Inclusive Audio Guide Part 3: Talking Tech with Ruben Niculcea

This is the third post in a series about the development process of The Warhol’s new audio guide.

To develop our inclusive audio guide, we’ve partnered with the fantastic Carnegie Museum of Pittsburgh Innovation Studio. I sat down with Ruben Tudorel Niculcea, lead software engineer at the Innovation Studio, to talk about the technology behind the iOS application.

Desi Gonzalez: What is the Innovation Studio?

Ruben Niculcea: The Innovation Studio is a post-digital design, research, and development lab for the Carnegie Museums of Pittsburgh. We ask, how can museums be 21st-century cultural institutions, and how can we showcase the breadth of content that we have available? Museums hold so much knowledge, history, and culture, and we use technology to present this in a way that’s relevant, engaging, and meets people where they are.

DG: Tell me a little bit about yourself and the role you played on this audio guide project.

RN: I’m a lead software engineer at the Innovation Studio, and I was the lead developer on the project. I’ve made all of the architectural and technical decisions associated with the delivery of this project. I help set development deadlines and make sure they’re met and that we’re delivering a product based on The Warhol’s needs. Sam Ticknor, a junior developer in the Innovation Studio, has been working alongside me to develop the app.

DG: Let’s get a bit technical. Can you describe the technology underlying the audio guide?

RN: This is a React Native application with a Redux architecture. It’s an emerging technology in the mobile app space, and I made that leap for a number of reasons. I feel that React Native is finally stable enough to be used in production, and it allows for rapid mobile development that is currently not available in traditional ways of developing mobile applications, such as Objective-C with a model-view-controller architecture. For example, we’ve redesigned the audio player for the app three or four different times, at times with completely different visual design, animations, and functionality. Because we went with React Native and a Redux architecture, we could rapidly prototype these different components without having to fundamentally change large parts of the application. Another great thing about React Native is that, if we want to port this to Android further down the line, 70% to 80% of the work will have already been done.

DG: A central goal of the project is to design the audio guide for users with visual impairments. Is this the first time you’ve developed an app for this audience?

RN: Yes, it is. At my previous job, we made sure that we included a baseline for accessibility. That means we had support for VoiceOver—the screen reader technology built into all iOS devices that uses a combination of different gestures to translate the visual design into speech—as a layer on top of what we built. But as for thinking about how a user would interact with an application with VoiceOver from the start, this is the first time I’ve done that. It’s completely different to design with VoiceOver in mind.

DG: In addition to VoiceOver, we’re also using bluetooth low-energy beacons to push out media to users. What has your experience working with beacons been like?

RN: Previous to this, I shipped a somewhat similar solution for the Carnegie Museums of Art and Natural History where, when you enter certain rooms, you trigger a notification highlighting certain content. This app works a little bit differently, in that we’re detecting when you’re in within a particular region in the range of a certain object—a more accurate way of determining proximity.

Beacons are good for detecting when you’re in the proximity of something, but if you’re trying to figure out someone’s exact location, then beacons are actually a pretty crude solution to that problem. We’re still working to make the beacons function better.

DG: What’s a feature on the audio guide app that you are most excited about?

RN: With this audio guide, we’ve done things a bit differently: instead of having one longer audio file related to each work of art or theme, we’ve split our audio into smaller, modular chunks, so that you might have three to five audio “chapters” for each “story.” We’re planning on dynamically rearranging the order in which you listen to these chapters, which is something I’m most excited about.

Each chapter is assigned a category—such as historical context, artistic process, or archival material—and we will be able to rearrange the order in which you’ll listen to them depending on your preference. If you have VoiceOver enabled, we will move the visual description audio file to the top of the list, so that visually impaired audiences will get a sense of an artwork before diving into deeper content about it. And for all users, we’ll be able to tailor a path based on your interests. Let’s say you really like historical context—whether it’s a clip about the house Warhol grew up in, or a discussion about consumer culture in the 1950s—and you listen to the historical context every time but skip other kinds of content. The app will be able to learn what you like and place that category higher up on the list.

DG: What has been one of your biggest learnings throughout the process?

RN: The thing that’s really struck me is that designing with accessibility in mind—what’s often referred to as “universal design” or “inclusive design”—has not only been learning a new area within software development—namely, designing for screen readers—but also has forced me to simplify my designs in a way that is beneficial to everyone. It’s made me realize that, if an interaction is too hard for someone who is visually impaired, then it’s something that could be improved for everyone. The final design of our audio player is a great example of this. We slowly simplified the audio player and how the controls are arranged until it they were consistent across all screens and most states.

DG: Where can I find the code?

RN: At the Innovation Studio and The Warhol, we are committed to open source, and sharing our knowledge and technology with other museums. We plan on open-sourcing the app as soon as we launch version 1 of the app, and it will be available on The Warhol’s Github account. We’ll be releasing it with an MIT license, which means that anyone is free to use, copy, modify, publish, and distribute the code however they please.

Accessibility initiatives at The Warhol are generously supported by Allegheny Regional Asset District, The Edith L. Trees Charitable Trust, and the FISA Foundation in honor of Dr. Mary Margaret Kimmel.

Designing an Inclusive Audio Guide Part 2: Tactile Reproductions

This is the second post in a series on the development process of The Warhol’s new audio guide.

You might not think a museum would offer a meaningful experience for a person with visual impairment. But why not? At The Andy Warhol Museum, we’re working on changing that perception, and we’re providing experiences to visitors with the widest possible range of abilities.

We are very excited and proud to introduce three tactile reproductions of Andy Warhol’s artwork on the 7th floor of the museum. Visitors will be able to get a sense of the texture, shape, and composition of Warhol’s artwork through touch. The beauty of tactile reproductions is that they are beneficial to all visitors. We can all learn something about Warhol’s artwork by experiencing it through the sense of touch.

I first learned about tactile diagrams at the 2013 Leadership Exchange Arts and Disability (LEAD) conference in Washington, DC, and I was excited to share my ideas with the rest of the museum team. After that, we began working on a mobile app with visual descriptions for an audio guide, and a raised map of the gallery spaces so that visitors could have a sense of space before they peruse the galleries.

During this time of testing and research, I also discovered something called a “swell form machine.” The swell form machine uses a specific kind of paper and a carbon ink pen that allows you to draw on the paper and put it through the machine, which heats up the ink. The ink swells on the paper giving specific physical definitions that are raised, juxtaposed against the smooth paper. We experimented with many kinds of raised reproductions and got a positive response from visitors, as well as some feedback. For example, a consultant named Sina Bahram, when using a larger-scale tactile reproduction made from high-density polyethylene (HDPE) material, advised us to mount the reproductions on a 45-degree angle on pedestals so that they were more accessible to touch for everyone.  

The Warhol is working with David Whitewolf of Tactile Reproductions, LLC, who is making the three tactile reproductions that will soon be on display at The Warhol. I asked David a few questions about the fabrication process, because it’s fascinating.

Leah Morelli: How did you get involved with making tactile reproductions?

David Whitewolf: I first got involved with crafting tactile reproductions when I received a call from a friend of mine, Anika Wilcox, who was working with The Warhol at the time. She asked if I would meet with the education team and discuss what might be necessary to create tactile reproductions of some of Andy Warhol’s artworks, which they could take on educational road trips. Several months later we had finished four pieces, two of which were full-scale reproductions and were cut using a machining process, and two of which were smaller, scaled-down, hand-held pieces created using a high-resolution 3D printer.[1] This was the very beginning of our process, and through it we developed a basic understanding of the software workflow, the tooling and time requirements, and the overall philosophical reasoning driving our choices.

LM: From the beginning, explain the materials that you started experimenting with and how you have come to the current material that you are using to create the tactile reproductions.

DW: In the beginning we were looking at materials that might cut easily, and therefore quickly using a computer numerically controlled (CNC) router, and yet be robust enough to be handled by many people over several years. This was a crazy prototyping period, which had two big constraints—the budget and access to the machinery required to make these objects. Those two things go hand-in-hand because of the time required to create a single piece. CNC machine time can be expensive, especially when a piece might take up to 70 hours of continuous operation to create, so we had to make new friends who were interested in our project and who donated time on their machines to support it.

Our first pieces were made using two common light-weight materials: medium density fiberboard(mdf) and rigid foam insulation. Both of these materials are fairly lightweight and easy to machine quickly, but, as I soon discovered, they require extensive finishing to make them robust enough for handling. For the mdf there was a lot of careful sanding involved and many, many coats of paint and clear enamel in order to create a pleasant tactile experience. With the insulation I painted a layer of acrylic latex paint over the surface and then attempted a two-part epoxy coating, which did not leave a very satisfying result. In fact, I failed with that coating the first time, which meant I had to cut the entire piece again!

A far simpler process was the use of a selective laser sintering machine (SLS) to 3D-print two of the pieces. The original works are larger (approx. 1 meter square) so they had to be reduced to fit in the machine, which only has a 12” x 12” x 12” build volume. The pieces came out of the oven complete and only required a coat of enamel in order to keep them clean. As we’ve discovered, this is fine for smaller works, or expanded sections/details of works, but the loss in definition when reducing a large work makes it almost impossible for a patron to distinguish important areas. Also, the enamel coating over the sintered nylon isn’t as smooth and pleasant an experience to touch as you might imagine.

After these experiences we decided to move to a more robust material that didn’t require as much finishing, would be easy to clean, and would be easy to machine. It would also need to be cost effective. I made the decision to use HDPE, not only because it met these requirements, but also because it was so pleasant to touch. By this time, we had acquired our own CNC router. The first piece we cut was fairly small, but cut full size, and came off of the machine nearly complete. Only minor deburring, or getting rid of unwanted pieces, around the edges was required. The next piece was larger, however, and we noticed a significant deformation during the cutting process.  After a slight modification to the data and checking the material for defects, a second iteration was attempted. This also failed with the piece cupping and flexing as it was being cut, and cupping severely after being removed from the machine. The learning curve got a little steeper at this point as I learned about the molecular and structural composition of the material. It turns out that HDPE was actually not the best material for this process!

We are now using a copolymer with the trade name Acetal. This is a dense material, made for machining, which remains dimensionally accurate even under fairly extreme circumstances. However, because of its molecular structure and density, the Acetal feels rougher than HDPE, which is often described as greasy. We’ve learned that the same data cut on both materials gives patrons completely different experiences. In order to make sure that we are communicating the intended information of the piece, and not creating an unpleasant experience for the patron, we are modifying our datasets in software. This work is ongoing.

LM: Would you describe your process and any considerations you have when transforming a two dimensional image into a relief?

DW: The primary purpose of a tactile reproduction is to make the visual information created by the artist accessible to a patron who cannot experience it visually. Because of this, we’ve taken the approach of providing as much of that information as possible to the patron with limited modification. In other words, it is important to us that our tactile reproductions do not add information to the works. Rather, we make every attempt to provide an accurate experience by simply differentiating one feature from another. After all, no one knows what the back of Mona Lisa’s head looks like, so we don’t make any claims like that in our reproductions.

The process itself is quite time-intensive due to the need to do accurate work at a very high resolution and also because of the craftsmanship required. I have to look at each piece both as an engineer and artist in order to make choices about how best to bring out the information for the viewer. Each piece is completely different in this regard, but the tools I use are common. I utilize a typical image editor, which allows fine resolution manipulation of pixel color and provides standard filters for blurring (this allows gradations between areas so that we are not creating unpleasant transitions). Once I have created the grayscale image, I use another software program to build a 3D object from the image data. In this program, black areas are “farthest away” from the viewer and white areas are closest, with varying shades of gray falling somewhere between.  When this process is complete, the dataset is brought into another software package in order to generate toolpaths for the CNC router. Finally, this g-code is loaded onto the router’s computer and the part is cut. This process, not including the machining time, can take up to 80 hours.

LM: What are some things that you learned from meeting our consultant, and working with users, and how did that inform your process?

DW: Meeting with Sina Bahram (of Prime Access Consulting, Inc.) was a lot of fun! He is a very intelligent and pleasant person and has been studying and working in this field for quite a while, so his notes on the pieces we created were concise and direct and very helpful.  

Because Sina’s primary interest is in universal design, he spoke with us about all aspects of presentation, from the works themselves and their audio descriptions to how the works are mounted and the placement of signage. One very interesting thing I learned as we went over the pieces was that line drawings require more verbal description than other types of work. This is a little counterintuitive for people who are able to experience these pieces visually. We might tend to think that the work is less busy or more precise due to the inked line, but, in fact, the opposite appears to be true for those who are sight-impaired. The precision of the line means there is less information defining the various areas of the drawing. Whereas I may clearly see the outline of an arm leading to a shoulder and neck, a blind person wouldn’t be able to differentiate those outlined areas as objects, especially if, say, the arm was draped across the chest in the figure. This is where a more detailed audio description is required.

Working with Sina also helped to confirm many of the choices I had intuited when building the pieces and let us know that we were on the right path. This may not sound like much, but it really helps clear your head so you can get to work!

LM: Is there anything else you want to add?

DW: I would like to add that working with The Warhol to create these pieces has been a fun, engaging, and professional experience. It is very satisfying to work with people who really do want to reach each and every member of our community. We are happy and thankful to be a part of this process and to help to share it with others who might do the same in their own communities. And, to anyone who is interested, come to Pittsburgh and touch the art!

LM: I am excited that The Warhol will have three tactile reproductions on the 7th floor of the museum in time for the opening reception for the LEAD conference, which is in Pittsburgh this year, and opens the first week of August. [2] Come check it out!

Accessibility initiatives at The Warhol are generously supported by Allegheny Regional Asset District, The Edith L. Trees Charitable Trust, and the FISA Foundation in honor of Dr. Mary Margaret Kimmel.

[1] The first four tactile reproductions we made were based on the following Warhol artworks:Campbell’s Soup I: Cream of Mushroom, 1968; Female Fashion Figure, 1950s; Marilyn Monroe (Marilyn), 1967; and Self-Portrait, 1986.

[2] The three tactile reproductions that are on view beginning August 2016 include representations of the following Warhol artworks: Coca-Cola [2], 1961; Reclining Male Torso, 1950s; and Female Fashion Figure, 1950s.