Andy Warhol, silver disaster, the artist with the Capital Realist hair-do, the manager of The Factory, Union Square, not square at all, or was it number 11, Flingerstrasse, at 8 p.m. (bring your own wine, cheese provided).

What can we say about him, or what can't we say about him. Nothing is sure, or unsure, even the date of his birth. Surely Mrs Warhola knew, or didn't know, or wasn't sure, perhaps she was in on it - she never said.

He found that most precious thing in art, meaning in meaninglessness, and never even bothered to tell anyone. His life was a giant canvas, an unfinished work, in fact it continues to this day, even after his death. But whatever, or whoever, he was, his work changed art forever, and remains one of the greatest wells of inspiration.