There’s a certain thrill that only colour can deliver. A rush of visual energy. A visceral hit that bypasses logic and speaks straight to the senses. And in the art world, nowhere is that feeling more palpable - or more deliberately constructed - than in the world of Pop Art.
At Andipa Gallery’s new summer exhibition, Summer in Full Colour, that thrill is alive and vibrant. Set within the gallery’s historic Knightsbridge townhouse, this latest show celebrates the role of colour in Pop Art’s greatest prints. The exhibition is both a joyful burst of pigment and a thoughtful exploration of how colour has shaped some of the most iconic visual language of the last century.
Pop Art has always been tied to colour. Unlike the muted tones of the mid-century abstract painters or the tonal subtleties of classical portraiture, Pop declared itself in primary colours and acid brights. It was bold, brash, and unafraid to shout. But it wasn’t just about aesthetics - it was about communication. Pop artists used colour not to soften but to confront. They borrowed the palette of advertising, comics, and commercial design, and turned it back on itself.
Andy Warhol was, of course, the master of this technique. His silkscreen prints, now legends in their own right, used repetition and colour variation to both glorify and critique the icons of his era. Marilyn Monroe, Jackie Kennedy, Elizabeth Taylor - all were immortalised in jarring, artificial hues that made them feel more like products than people. With a fluorescent green face or blood-red lips, these figures were transformed into something mythic and consumable. Warhol’s colours weren’t emotional, they were mechanical. Deliberately so. He wasn’t trying to capture the soul of his subjects, but to strip them of mystique, reduce them to symbols, and let colour carry the weight of recognition.
If Warhol’s colours were detached and systematic, Roy Lichtenstein’s were ironic and performative. His bold reds, bright yellows and comic-strip blues were lifted straight from mass-printed comic books. Enlarged and refined into prints, they gained a cool detachment that played on both nostalgia and critique. Lichtenstein’s use of Ben-Day dots to simulate shading is now iconic, but it’s also a commentary. By mimicking commercial printing methods, he drew attention to the artificiality of reproduction itself. Colour in Lichtenstein’s prints is not just vibrancy - it’s knowingly mechanical, and in that repetition lies both humour and irony.
David Hockney’s relationship with colour is markedly different. While he also emerged in the Pop era, his colour is warmer, more personal, and often rooted in memory and place. His prints often glow with the soft light of California, or the tender greys and greens of the English countryside. A swimming pool, a chair, a terrace - all gain emotional depth through colour choices that feel intuitive and human. In Hockney’s hands, colour becomes the vessel for atmosphere, intimacy, and warmth. His use of pastels, aquamarines, ochres and dusty pinks suggest not just places, but states of mind. Where Warhol’s colours keep you at a distance, Hockney’s invite you in.
Keith Haring, by contrast, brought colour back to the streets, and back to the body. His work, with its writhing lines and graphic clarity, is often reduced to its shapes. But the colour is equally vital. Haring’s primaries - his hot reds, luminous yellows, and inky blacks - feel urgent and alive. These weren’t just aesthetic decisions- they were political. Haring was interested in accessibility, community and visibility. Colour was one of the ways he ensured his work reached as many people as possible. It made his messages impossible to ignore, whether painted on a subway wall or printed in a collector’s portfolio. His use of bright, flat colour was a democratic gesture, a way of giving art a life outside the gallery.
In prints especially, colour plays a unique role. The flatness and precision of the medium demand a kind of clarity; there’s no room for hesitation. A silkscreen or lithograph doesn’t blend or blur in the way a painting might. What you put down, stays. That makes the choice of colour even more critical. Each hue must carry intention. In Pop Art prints, colour is not a supporting act - it’s the lead performer.
Andipa Editions has always championed this aspect of printmaking, where pigment becomes a precision instrument of expression. That’s why Summer in Full Colour is more than a seasonal showcase. It’s a reminder of how artists have used colour to provoke and seduce, to tell stories, to reframe the everyday. Whether you’re a seasoned collector or just starting your journey with prints, this exhibition offers a chance to reconnect with the pure, electric joy of colour. Step inside, and let the colours wash over you.
