Andy Warhol — The Factory

Andy Warhol’s Landlord Asked Him Not To Throw Parties At The Factory

Today, excellent historical blog Letters Of Note features a letter from Andy Warhol‘s landlord at his infamous Factory loft at 231 E 47 St. In it, he reminds Warhol that “such use and occupancy” is not in the terms of his lease and he needs to stop it with all the “large parties” that he’d been holding “after usual office hours.” Additionally, he was pissed that Andy’s guests left “litter and debris” lying around the hallways “which you have never bothered to clean.” (Edie Sedgwick simply did not care where she threw her Oreo wrappers.) Okay, that last part was a dick move, Andy Warhol. All in all, though, it sounds like someone was upset he wasn’t invited. The full text reads as follows:

NEW YORK, N. Y. 10010
WATKINS 4-3560

November 15, 1965

Mr. Andy Warhol
231 East 47 Street
New York, New York

Dear Mr. Warhol:

We have been advised that you have been giving parties in the fourth floor space occupied by you. We understand that they are generally large parties and are held after usual office hours. We have found that your guests have left debris and litter in the public areas which you have never bothered to clean. Further, we feel that a congregation of the number of people such as you have had may be contrary to various applicable governmental rules and regulations and also might present a serious problem with the Fire Department regulations.

Your lease, of course, does not permit such use and occupancy and you hereby directed not to have any such parties in this building.

Very truly yours,



Alfred R. Goldstein


Next time your friends start complaining about how the New York City of today makes it terrifically hard to do anything cool, please direct them to this post. Rents might be higher now, but landlords have always been jerks about noise, even when that noise was coming from the Velvet fucking Underground. I wonder if this particular jerk knew that his bummer of a letter would someday be preserved for all posterity in a coffee table book called The Velvet Underground: New York Art? Anyway, it makes me feel better about my own landlord issues. Party on, people of New York. Party on.

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