From Original to Series: Andy Warhol and the Industrialization of the Artwork

The Question of Origin

For centuries, the artwork was commonly understood as a singular object produced by the hand of an individual creator. Painting in particular seemed to embody this ideal. Each canvas was assumed to possess a unique origin, tied to the gestures and decisions of a specific artist at a specific moment. The rise of industrial modernity, however, introduced conditions that gradually unsettled this understanding. Techniques of mass production reshaped the circulation of objects, images, and commodities, establishing a cultural environment in which repetition and standardization became increasingly familiar.

These transformations inevitably affected artistic practice. As mechanical reproduction expanded across modern life, the notion that a work of art must exist as a unique and irreplaceable artifact became more difficult to sustain. As Walter Benjamin famously observed, “that which withers in the age of mechanical reproduction is the aura of the work of art” (Benjamin, 1936/2008, p. 22). In this context, the work of Andy Warhol offers a particularly illuminating example. His series Campbell's Soup Cans, first exhibited in 1962, places the problem of originality at the very center of the image.

An Artwork Arranged Like a Shelf

Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Cans consists of thirty-two individual canvases, each depicting a different flavor of soup produced by the well-known American brand. The paintings share the same dimensions and present the familiar red-and-white label in a nearly identical format. When displayed together, the images create a striking visual effect. Instead of appearing as independent compositions, the canvases resemble a row of products arranged on a supermarket shelf.

This presentation invites the viewer to recognize the logic of repetition that structures the work. Each picture corresponds to a flavor once sold by the company—tomato, chicken, clam chowder, and others—yet the differences remain minimal. The images appear interchangeable, much like the commodities they portray. In this way the installation evokes the visual order of consumer culture, where objects are produced and distributed in large quantities according to standardized models.

Such an arrangement subtly shifts the focus of interpretation. The subject matter itself—a familiar commercial package—offers little in the way of novelty. What becomes significant is the manner in which the motif is repeated across the series. The work therefore draws attention not to an individual representation but to the structure of replication that binds the images together.

Silkscreen and the Logic of Reproduction

The technique Warhol adopted to create these pictures reinforces this logic. Rather than relying solely on traditional painting methods, he employed silkscreen printing, a process that allows the same image to be transferred repeatedly from a prepared template. Once the screen is produced, pigment can be applied again and again, generating multiple impressions with relatively minor variations.

This procedure introduces a crucial conceptual shift. In conventional painting, the canvas is normally treated as the primary site of creation—the place where the artist’s gestures give rise to the finished work. Silkscreen printing, by contrast, relocates the generative moment elsewhere. The decisive element becomes the template from which the images are produced. Each canvas derived from the screen therefore occupies an equivalent position within the series.

Under these conditions, identifying a single privileged original becomes difficult. Every image originates from the same source, and none possesses a clear priority over the others. Warhol himself embraced the implications of this approach. Reflecting on his working method, he once remarked: “The reason I’m painting this way is that I want to be a machine” (Warhol, 2009, p. 7). The statement is provocative, yet it captures the deliberate embrace of mechanical procedures within his practice.

The Artist and the Factory

The Factory. AI image

Warhol’s studio further accentuated this transformation. Known simply as The Factory, the space operated less like a solitary painter’s workshop than like a site of collaborative production. Assistants frequently participated in preparing canvases, applying pigment, or executing portions of the printing process. As a result, the physical act of painting no longer belonged exclusively to the artist.

This arrangement complicates the traditional image of artistic authorship. If multiple individuals contribute to the realization of a work, the figure of the creator begins to resemble a coordinator rather than a lone craftsman. Warhol’s role increasingly consisted of selecting images, determining procedures, and overseeing the process through which the pieces were generated. In this sense the artist becomes closer to a designer or director of production.

The choice of the name “Factory” underscores this reconfiguration. The term deliberately echoes the industrial environments that had long organized modern manufacturing. By adopting this model within artistic practice, Warhol effectively blurred the boundary separating cultural creation from commodity production. The artwork emerges not as a singular object fashioned by a solitary hand but as the outcome of a system capable of generating multiple instances.

When the Series Expands

The implications of this strategy become even clearer when one considers the additional versions Warhol produced using the same motif. Works such as 100 Campbell's Soup Cans and 200 Campbell's Soup Cans extend the logic of repetition even further. Produced from the same silkscreen template as the earlier series, each piece deploys essentially the same image, multiplied across a larger number of panels.

At this point the question of originality becomes increasingly ambiguous. If several artworks reproduce the same visual template through identical techniques, determining which one should be regarded as the definitive version becomes nearly impossible. The image circulates from one configuration to another, continually capable of generating new arrangements.

What matters, therefore, is not the existence of a single authoritative object but the reproducible pattern that underlies the entire sequence. The soup can functions as a sign capable of appearing in multiple contexts without losing its recognizability. The artwork consequently shifts from a unique artifact to a repeatable form.

Conclusion: The Artwork After Industrialization

Warhol’s Campbell’s Soup Cans captures a moment when artistic production encounters the full implications of industrial modernity. By adopting mechanical techniques, embracing serial imagery, and organizing his studio according to the logic of collective production, Warhol transformed the conventional understanding of what a painting could be. The canvas no longer serves as an isolated masterpiece anchored to a singular origin. Instead, it becomes one instance within a potentially limitless sequence.

Seen from this perspective, the work does not merely depict a consumer product; it mirrors the cultural conditions that made such products ubiquitous. The image of the soup can, repeated across numerous canvases, reveals how the language of art can absorb the structures of mass production. In doing so, Warhol invites viewers to reconsider the meaning of originality in a world where images, like commodities, are capable of endless reproduction.

References

Benjamin, W. (2008). The work of art in the age of mechanical reproduction. Penguin. (Original work published 1936)

Warhol, A. (2009). The philosophy of Andy Warhol: From A to B and back again. Penguin.