Self-Defense (Positive), circa 1985-1986 by Andy Warhol
- Untitled Art Gallery

- Oct 12, 2019
- 4 min read
Updated: Nov 16

Self-Defense (Positive), circa 1985-1986; Acrylic and silkscreen ink on canvas; Stamped three times with the Estate of Andy Warhol stamp; Stamped twice with the Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts stamp; Numbered twice 'PA10.432 VF' on the overlap; Numbered 'PA10.432 VF' on the stretcher; Size - Canvas: 20 x 16", Frame 22 x 18"; Framed using a black wood frame and plexiglass.
"My fascination with letting images repeat and repeat - or in film's case 'run on' - manifests my belief that we spend much of our lives seeing without observing." - Andy Warhol
In the 1980s, Andy Warhol began a series of primarily black-and-white “ad paintings” whose source material was drawn from advertisements, maps, diagrams, and illustrations found in newspapers and magazines. For Warhol, this marked a return to the lowbrow printed subject matter that had defined much of his work in the 1960s, while simultaneously serving as a wry commentary on American consumer culture. By maintaining a monochromatic palette, he preserved the stark, mechanical look of the original advertisements and underscored their origins in mass-produced media.
Self-Defense was adapted from a sensationalist black-and-white advertisement that proclaimed: “SELF-DEFENSE – SECRETS REVEALED – PROTECT YOURSELF AND FAMILY FROM MUGGING – RAPE – ROBBERY – HOODLUMS – WIN ANY FIGHT WITH EASY TO LEARN SURVIVAL TECHNIQUES – FOR MEN AND WOMEN OF ALL AGES!” Warhol retained the bold graphic text but strategically removed letters and words to create a more balanced and visually controlled composition. The capitalized lettering interacts with an accompanying illustration of a taller male figure grasping a shorter woman by the neck—a disturbing and confrontational image framed by austere blocks of text. Rendered in black and white with only minimal shading, the composition invites viewers to focus on the explicit visual language rather than on naturalistic detail. The mechanical text, surrounded by painterly brushstrokes, blurs the boundary between the hand-made and the mass-produced, subtly undermining the distinction between painting and photographic reproduction. What remains of the text still promises that hidden “secrets” will allow the student to fend off a wide range of dangers, but the transformation of the ad into art lays bare the absurdity and anxiety embedded within the original pitch. Warhol had long mastered the art of satirizing commercialization, and he openly embraced mass conformity, once remarking, “I’m for mechanical art. When I took up silk screening, it was to more fully exploit the preconceived image through the commercial techniques of multiple reproduction.”
Self Defense belongs to Warhol’s late B&W Ads and Illustrations series (1985–86), a body of work that art historians interpret as both a continuation of his early Pop sensibility and a more introspective engagement with themes of consumerism, fear, and media spectacle. While these paintings may appear austere at first glance, they are densely layered in implication. The original advertisement, promising protection from mugging, rape, robbery, and other forms of violence, carries a charge of public fear that Warhol amplifies through careful cropping and recomposition. Curators at Gagosian have stressed that his manipulations are not arbitrary: by reframing and fragmenting the ad, Warhol lifts it out of its utilitarian context and transforms it into an unsettling hybrid of information and abstraction.
Benjamin H. D. Buchloh, one of Warhol’s most influential interpreters, situates this late work within a broader critique of “one-dimensional” mass-media culture. In his interviews and essays, Buchloh emphasizes Warhol’s ambivalent stance: he neither endorses nor condemns the commercial imagery he uses, but instead reveals the mechanisms through which fear, desire, and behavior are codified and sold. Warhol’s famously offhand remark that he chose images simply “because I like them” deepens this ambiguity. It signals a refusal of traditional artistic intention while simultaneously revealing how thoroughly he had absorbed the semiotics of late-capitalist visual culture.
Other scholars, such as Branden W. Joseph, read Self Defense through a media-theoretical lens. Joseph argues that Warhol is not merely depicting media systems—he is participating in them. The silkscreen’s smudges, halftone distortions, and imperfections function as metaphors for the way meaning is degraded or fragmented within modern communication networks. This approach counters the notion of Warhol as a passive reproducer of consumer images; instead, his distortions foreground the instability and latent anxiety simmering beneath the surface of mass-media messages.
Taken together, these perspectives reveal Self Defense as both topical and conceptually rich. It addresses violence, vulnerability, and collective fear, yet always through the coded language of advertising. Critics such as Hal Foster view this duality as central to postmodernism: Warhol’s work is at once complicit in and critical of the systems it reappropriates. In Self Defense, that tension becomes especially vivid. By aestheticizing a fear-driven advertisement, Warhol strips away its immediate function and exposes the cultural forces that produced it. The result is a painting that is deceptively simple yet deeply reflective of the media environment of the 1980s—a landscape whose anxieties and market logic remain strikingly familiar today.
This is an absolutely fantastic unique work on canvas by the great Pop artist Andy Warhol and would be a great addition to any art collection!






