Photo Pest: Pilgrimage To Pittsburgh

Why Pittsburgh? you ask. Because I've wanted to visit the Andy Warhol Museum ever since it opened 20 years ago and Thom agreed to make the trip.

It took most of a glorious late summer day to drive there from New York City with the top down on his Infinity convertible. We headed for the museum on foot shortly after checking in to the Westin Hotel Convention Center.

We nearly had the place to ourselves even though admission is half-price on Friday evenings. I wasted no time getting pictures taken with my idol's iconic image.

The museum doesn't allow photography in the galleries but I couldn't resist capturing these Polaroids of Andy in drag.

Perhaps my expectations were too high but I expected more. Size (seven floors) isn't everything. The place lacked buzz, a serious shortcoming for a museum honoring the man who practically invented it. Aside from the two galleries exploring his family background and early work, there wasn't anything I hadn't seen before. When I want a fix of Andy, MoMA or the Met displays his work to better advantage in the context of other artists.

Night had fallen by the time we emerged.

We headed for the Strip district Saturday morning. Lots of repurposed factories and farmer's markets.

De Luca's lived up to its hype. For my money, the seafood omelet was the best breakfast in town. So good and filling that we skipped lunch!

I thought of Andy walking back to the hotel. Heinz Field is the name of the stadium just a short walk away from the museum.

Pittsburgh, home to several professional teams, takes sports very seriously. No wonder Andy

couldn't wait to get to New York.

We had 2 p.m. reservations to tour Fallingwater, Frank Lloyd Wright's masterpiece (what is the Guggenheim? chopped liver?) Cloudy, wet weather didn't detract from the visit at all.

The Kaufmann's, owners of a local department store (now part of the Macy's), asked visitors to rinse their feet before entering. They commissioned Fallingwater in 1935, expecting their getaway in a former logging forest to cost around $5-6,000. Completed four years later, $150,000 over budget, it revived Wright's sagging reputation and barely has changed since.

Taking photos inside is forbidden. This forces visitors to focus more on what the tour guide has to say. Can you imagine delivering the same spiel on "organic architecture" four or five times a day? Fallingwater disappears into nature through a deliberate combination of setting, construction materials, design and plant growth. The curators use paper towels to plug the numerous leaks. No kidding.

I am my father's son. Even before the tour got started, I asked "Where did the Kaufmann's park?" In this carport with bays for four vehicles. The small staff lived upstairs. Visitors now assemble here at the tour's conclusion for a fundraising pitch.

Edgar Kaufman, Jr., an aesthete and a professor at Columbia University, my alma mater, donated the house and all its furnishings to the Western Pennsylvania Conservancy. For the interiors, he favored fabrics like these. It wasn't hard to intuit he was gay, a fact our guide confirmed.

The gift shop had a lot more to offer than the Andy Warhol Museum. Although there's no record of Andy ever going to Fallingwater, it turns out that Frieda Kahlo (on the left) and Diego Rivera, her husband, were frequent visitors.

During our 90-minute drive west back to Pittsburgh, we passed through some beautiful country.

Thom took me to a concert for my birthday at the Benedum, a beautiful old theatre five minutes away from the hotel. Thanks to a Pirates game, we still could score seats at the last minute. My phone even rang at Fallingwater to let us know that we had been upgraded to center orchestra at no extra cost. Pure serendipity all around!

Not bad for 71, eh ? (a copyright claim prevents posting the video I shot over the shoulders of a lesbian couple who, with many others, formed the core audience that evening). Miss Ross performed all her hits + "I Will Survive" in 80 minutes (no intermission) and changed gowns four or five times, too. A real pro with a great band (two drummers) and sensational background singers! Believe it or not, a cousin of Andy Warhol's picked me up on the dance floor at the Barefoot Boy one night in 1976 while "Love Hangover" was playing. He had great legs!

Nothing like a cable car ride at the Duquesne Incline to start your Sunday.

I'll bet Andy once rode in the same cars!

A platform at the top offered panoramic views of Pittsburgh. The Allegheny and Monongahela Rivers meet in the "City of Bridges"(there are 446!) to form the Ohio River.

Cable was once stored on these spools.

Final stop: A pilgrimage to Andy Warhol's grave in St. John the Byzantine Catholic Church cemetery. It's located in the same parish where he was baptized. Don't you love the wig?

His parents (he dropped the last "a") are buried right behind him. Andrew senior, who died when Andy was 13, already had saved enough money to send his talented son to the Carnegie Institute of Technology. Julia, a devout Catholic, lived with him in New York for many years.