In the early 1960s, gallery owner Leo Castelli encouraged Andy Warhol to broaden his artistic production. Warhol began with small charcoal drawings and soon moved to screen printing, an industrial process that made it easier to create large-scale works. The shift risked saturating the market and potentially depressing prices, but Warhol remained committed to experimentation.
At first, Warhol and his circle explored cinema not only for its artistic and narrative possibilities but also because the production pipeline—pre-production, shooting, development, and editing—took longer than painting. Yet Warhol’s appetite for new modes of expression stayed strong. He expanded into music after testing various media, including an eight-hour slow-motion shot of the Empire State Building, which reflected his philosophy of art and commerce.
To realize these ambitions, Warhol supported the then‑underground New York Velvet Underground, signing a contract with MGM, funding the recording of their debut album, and designing one of pop music’s most iconic covers, with one condition: that he be allowed to perform some of the songs himself. Nico, a German model and actress whom Warhol had met in Paris in 1965, joined the project, bringing a distinctive presence to the group.
In May of that year, Warhol headed to Paris to present his exhibition Flowers. Nico, who had endured a harsh childhood marked by Nazism, the absence of her father in the Wehrmacht, and other traumas, sought to forget her past by pursuing a dissolving career in Paris as a fashion model and actress. Her striking presence and unique voice helped her carve out opportunities in magazines and on screen.
Federico Fellini once acknowledged Nico when they crossed paths in Rome, remarking on her potential to be a star. He cast her in a film, and Nico stood out among many actors, reinforcing Warhol’s sense that he had discovered a kind of artistic resonance between image and performance. He preserved many of her appearances in clippings and memories within his albums.
Beyond her connection to Warhol’s Factory, Nico became acquainted with a wide circle of celebrities and artists, including Bob Dylan and Alain Delon. Her collaboration with Warhol’s circle helped propel her toward greater fame. She recorded songs such as All Tomorrow’s Parties with the Velvet Underground and appeared in several screen tests and Factory parties, eventually pursuing a solo music career and acting projects. Her later life included struggles with addiction and a complicated personal arc.
FORGOTTEN BY EVERYONE
The Velvet Underground entered the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame in 1996, a milestone recognizing their influence on American rock. At the ceremony, original members John Cale, Lou Reed, Moe Tucker, and Sterling Morrison set aside personal tensions to celebrate the band’s enduring impact. Yet Nico’s name was not mentioned by the organizers or her former bandmates, underscoring how quickly memory can overlook key contributors.
A decade later, Cologne councilors proposed dedicating a square to Nico, but the plan was rejected amid debates over her life and documented history. Critics argued that Nico’s struggles with addiction and her unconventional career path complicated the public record, a point echoed by scholars who contextualize her story within the broader history of rock music. Jennifer Otter Ablin, a cultural studies scholar, has written about Nico’s life and the challenges of presenting it with accuracy and sensitivity in contemporary biographies.
Despite early neglect, Nico’s legacy persisted across decades. Her influence on the development of women in rock is acknowledged by historians who emphasize the need to tell her story separately from male-centered narratives. As Jennifer Otter Ablin notes, many traditional critiques have centered on appearance or sensational aspects rather than the music and creative innovations Nico contributed. This reframing aims to honor her as a pioneering artist who forged a path for others in a field still dominated by male voices.
“Popular music of the 20th century was largely shaped and narrated by men. That’s why it is important to tell Nico’s story with accuracy and perspective that foreground her own experiences,” explains Ablin, whose work seeks to distinguish fact from myth while maintaining rigorous research standards. Her biographies strive to document interviews and sources clearly, offering a more complete view of Nico’s life and work.
Alongside the broader conversation about gender and recognition in rock history, Nico’s unique contributions—musical, stylistic, and performative—are increasingly acknowledged as essential to the evolution of the genre. Her perseverance in creating art on her own terms continues to inspire discussions about authorship, image, and the politics of fame.
The artist who sang at parties but often stood apart remains a symbol of individuality and resilience in the story of 20th-century popular music.