Andy Warhol’s prints are legendary in the art world, and among them trial proofs hold a special mystique. Collectors often prize these trial proof prints for their rarity and uniqueness, which frequently makes them more valuable than standard edition prints.
But what exactly is an Andy Warhol trial proof? In simple terms, it’s a one-of-a-kind test print created during the printmaking process–a glimpse into Warhol’s creative experimentation before the final edition was set. In this comprehensive guide, we’ll explore what trial proofs are, how Warhol used them, how they compare to other print edition types, and why they are so sought after by collectors and art aficionados.
Warhol’s Trial Proofs: Experimental Prints Explained
In printmaking, a trial proof is essentially a prototype print made as an experiment before the artist finalizes the edition. Think of it as an artistic draft. It allows the artist and printer to test out color combinations, ink densities, or compositional tweaks before committing to the full run of prints. A trial proof serves as a preliminary version to explore composition and color combinations before final revisions.

These proofs are usually marked with “T.P.” (for Trial Proof) in pencil, and each trial proof is unique in appearance. After printing several trial proofs, typically the artist selects one version to serve as the model for the final numbered edition. The remaining trial proofs, which differ from that final version, are not destroyed. Instead, they become a small set of unique prints that exist aside from the numbered edition.
Andy Warhol took full advantage of trial proofs as part of his artistic process. Warhol, famed for his bold use of color and silk-screening techniques, often experimented with wildly different color palettes for a single image. As a result, some trial proofs look very close to the final edition print, while others are radically different in color and composition. Each one offers a rare peek into Warhol’s creative decision-making, showing us the “what if” scenarios of his artistic process.
Therefore, it’s important to emphasize that every Warhol trial proof is one-of-a-kind compositionally–that is, no two trial proofs are exactly alike. In other words, if you see two Warhol prints with identical coloring both claimed to be trial proofs, something is wrong. By definition, a trial proof’s unique colorway or composition was only printed once. This uniqueness is a key part of their appeal and value.
The Rise of Trial Proofs in Warhol’s Work
Interestingly, Andy Warhol did not always release trial proofs in his early print portfolios from the 1960s and 1970s. He did experiment with printing images in many color variants (for example, the 1964 Flowers series was printed in a variety of color combinations as tests), but those variations weren’t initially published as separate “trial proof” editions. Even the rare Marilyn trial proofs that have surfaced at auction were working materials rather than commercial products, intended only to help determine the palette for the final Marilyn Monroe portfolio.
It was around 1980 that Warhol formally introduced trial proofs as part of his editioned works. In fact, Ten Portraits of Jews of the Twentieth Century (1980) was the first portfolio in which Warhol included trial proofs. From that point through the rest of the 1980s, trial proofs became a regular feature of Warhol’s print output.
From left to right: Sigmund Freud (FS II.235) TP and Louis Brandeis (FS II.230) TP from Ten Portraits of Jews of the Twentieth Century (1980). The The Shadow (FS IIB.267) and Mammy (FS IIB.262) from Myths (1981). Hover over each image to see the regular edition of each trial proof print.
From top to bottom: Sigmund Freud (FS II.235) TP and Louis Brandeis (FS II.230) TP from Ten Portraits of Jews of the Twentieth Century (1980). The The Shadow (FS IIB.267) TP and Mammy (FS IIB.262) TP from Myths (1982). Tap each image to see the regular edition of each trial proof print.
During the 1980s, Warhol began creating portfolios where each image was different. For example, the Myths series of 1981 contains various pop culture characters, and the Endangered Species series of 1983 features different animals. Because each image in these sets was unique, Warhol wanted the freedom to experiment with colors for each subject, not just one. His solution was to expand his editions by incorporating trial proofs for every image within the series.
In practical terms, that meant for almost every print Warhol produced in the 1980s, he would create a limited number of trial proof prints with alternate color schemes or compositional elements. According to the Andy Warhol Prints Catalogue Raisonné, Warhol “published a trial proof for almost every work he did” in that period. This marked a shift from earlier practice and greatly expanded the number of unique prints associated with each portfolio.
By the mid-1980s, trial proofs were not exceptions but expectations. They expanded the expressive range of each portfolio and introduced a new category of collectible Warhols—works that preserved the artist’s alternatives rather than his decisions.
Rupert Jasen Smith and the Studio Process Behind Warhol’s Trial Proofs
Understanding Andy Warhol’s trial proofs is impossible without considering the working partnership between Warhol and his master printer, Rupert Jasen Smith. Smith ran Warhol’s print studio from the late 1970s until the artist’s death in 1987. Their collaboration reveals the internal logic of the proofing process—and why so many of Warhol’s trial proofs feel like fully formed alternate artworks rather than discarded tests.

Smith’s own accounts describe an atmosphere of intense experimentation. Before any edition could be finalized, he would print numerous variations: changing inks, altering the density of washes, pulling different background colors, or isolating individual elements to see how they behaved on paper. Warhol rarely gave detailed instructions at this stage. Instead, he reacted to what appeared in front of him. Smith recalled that Warhol “liked the element of chance,” and often preferred the results that emerged from improvisation rather than planning.
But the key revelation in Smith’s testimony is Warhol’s insistence on saving these one-off proofs. Many artists destroy trial pulls after selecting the final edition colorway. Warhol did the opposite. He recognized their expressive potential, treating the proofs not as technical steps but as unique alternatives. This is why Warhol told publisher Ronald Feldman not to discard the variations—even the ones that diverged significantly from the final print. In doing so, Warhol essentially turned these experimental prints into their own collectible category, rather than mere discarded drafts.
Warhol also understood that these proofs carried additional value within the economy of print publishing. In the 1980s, trial proofs offered publishers more flexibility during negotiations and served as an additional revenue avenue beyond the numbered edition. In effect, the survival of these experimental sheets was not only an artistic choice but also part of the practical logic of how Warhol’s editions were produced and sold.
Smith’s recollections also show that the trial proofs captured a dialogue between artist and printer. Warhol reacted to Smith’s experiments, Smith adjusted based on Warhol’s preferences, and the results often surprised them both. In this sense, trial proofs record the collaborative “thinking” of the studio: the trial, the mistake, the accident, the near-miss—the moment an image could have been something else.
Trial Proofs vs Regular Editions
Each trial proof typically got its own small edition number for record-keeping, even though each one is unique. For example, Warhol’s 1987 Lenin print had a regular edition of 120 prints, but also 46 trial proofs–these were annotated as TP 1/46 through TP 46/46, each with a different color configuration.

This variety becomes especially clear when you compare images within Warhol’s portfolios, though not always. For example, we have a trial proof for Geronimo 384 from the Cowboys and Indians (1986) portfolio that is identical in palette to the regular edition. This is because Warhol chose this version as the basis for the final run. In this case, the trial proof became the prototype for the published print—a glimpse of the precise moment Warhol decided a colorway “worked.”


Yet much more often, Warhol’s trial proofs diverge dramatically from the editioned print. For example, one trial proof for Blackglama (Judy Garland) (1985) uses bold mustard and deep burgundy tones instead of the sharp black, blue and white glamour of the published version. The effect is startling: the advertisement becomes less about luxury and more about theatricality, as if Warhol momentarily imagined Garland in an entirely different emotional register.
These examples reveal a sliver of the full range of Warhol’s experimentation: sometimes his trial proofs served as incremental refinements, and other times they became completely new visual statements, existing only as singular works.
Trial Proofs and their colorways
Andy Warhol’s trial proofs are most revealing when viewed side by side with the regular edition, where the impact of a single color shift becomes unmistakable. These proofs expose the full range of alternatives Warhol considered—sometimes subtle, sometimes radical—as he tested how palette alone could reshape the meaning of an image.
Jane Fonda: Color Variations as Portrait Psychology
Warhol produced his portrait of Jane Fonda in 1982 as part of a fundraiser for her then husband, Tom Hayden, who was running for political office. Fonda was, by then, both a major film star and a visible activist, and Warhol based the image on photographs he took of her in his studio.
Across the four portraits shown below, the regular edition seems to establish the baseline, and the trial proofs that follow splinter that likeness into alternate identities—brighter, darker, cooler, hotter—as Warhol tests how far color alone can redefine a face, a mood, and even a narrative. But that “baseline” is something we infer after the fact. At the moment of printing, any of the other colorways could have become the editioned portrait.
From left to right: Jane Fonda (FS II.268) regular edition of 100 prints, followed by three prints (FS IIB.268) from an edition of 25 unique trial proofs. Each are signed and numbered in pencil lower left; some TP have diamond dust. Some regular and trial proof prints are also signed by Jane Fonda.
From top to bottom: Jane Fonda (FS II.268) regular edition print, signed by Warhol and Fonda, followed by three prints (FS IIB.268) from an edition of 25 trial proofs. Each are signed and numbered in pencil lower left; some TP have diamond dust. Some are also signed by Jane Fonda.
The regular edition presents Fonda with a cream complexion against a deep blue field, giving the portrait a poised, almost classical stillness. Her expression reads as self-contained and iconic. In the trial proof that follows, Warhol pushes the palette into hot reds and bubblegum pinks, turning the portrait into something more charged and confrontational. The shift in temperature makes Fonda feel immediate, even activist. It reflects more “heat” than poise.
In another trial proof, the pale background and softened contrasts lighten the entire atmosphere of the portrait. The result is unexpectedly gentle and introspective, recasting Fonda with a sense of quiet vulnerability. The next version replaces natural skin tones with a saturated red mask, set against a cobalt blue field resembling that of the regular edition. However, these colors heighten the theatricality of the image, giving Fonda a spectral, almost supernatural intensity. Here, her outward gaze is more penetrating and direct than in any other proof.
These aren’t minor adjustments. They are distinct emotional readings of the same photograph, each one a singular experiment printed once and never pursued again. Warhol is not only testing color; he is testing identities—and the regular edition is just one of several possible selves that could have entered the world.
Endangered Species: Graphic Exaggeration and the Artifice of Nature
Warhol’s experimental approach is equally vivid in the Endangered Species portfolio, where he jokingly referred to the trial proofs as “animals in makeup.” Here the variations push nature into the realm of Pop artifice. Even a quick look at a single trial proof for each one, like the Bighorn Ram (F&S IIB.302), San Francisco Silverspot (F&S IIB.298), or Bald Eagle (F&S IIB.296) shows how far Warhol was willing to push color.
From left to right: Bighorn Ram (F&S IIB.302), San Francisco Silverspot (F&S IIB.298), Bald Eagle (F&S IIB.296). Hover over each image to see the regular edition of each trial proof print.
From top to bottom: Bighorn Ram (F&S IIB.302), San Francisco Silverspot (F&S IIB.298), Bald Eagle (F&S IIB.296). Tap each image to see the regular edition of each trial proof print.
The regular edition of Bighorn Ram (FS II.302) presents the animal against a warm cream background, with deep greens and yellows defining the horns and face. The result is bold but balanced, less zoological and more mythic. Yet the ram remains monumental without losing its natural grounding. In the trial proof, the palette flips into a high-voltage combination of purple and burnt orange. The electric blue linework transforms the ram into a near-psychedelic figure, while its horn glows like a stovetop coil. It’s an exaggerated, theatrical presence that could easily have become the final edition.
San Francisco Silverspot (FS II.298) uses a magenta background and vibrant, sharply defined wing patterns, giving the butterfly an almost stained-glass clarity. It reads as celebratory and graphic—a Pop elevation of a fragile species. The trial proof shifts to a striking blue ground and introduces what appears to be a faint double-image. This effectively creates a sense of motion or optical flicker. Whether deliberate or incidental, that doubling feels like Warhol testing a more unstable, kinetic version of the butterfly. It is a version that challenges the clean, decorative precision of the edition.
In Bald Eagle (FS II.296), Warhol places the bird against a blue gradient, emphasizing its authority through contrast and crisp delineation. The result is almost heraldic, a Pop emblem of American strength. The trial proof opens the background into a pale, atmospheric wash, shifting the emphasis from monumentality to mood. The eagle’s outline gains iridescent, rainbow-like accents, giving the bird a surreal, dreamlike quality. The result is softer and stranger than the patriotic silhouette of the editioned print.
Across these examples, the trial proofs show how freely Warhol and his assistants manipulated nature through graphic artifice. They saturated, distorted, doubled, and re-colored until the animals hovered somewhere between biological and iconic. Each proof is a one-of-one possibility that Warhol explored and abandoned; a surviving trace of an alternative vision of the natural world as imagined through Pop.
Trial Proofs vs. Other Edition Types in Warhol Prints
Collectors often ask how trial proofs differ from the other notations they see on Warhol prints — the APs, PPs, HCs, and so on.
The simplest way to think about it is this: most proofs are identical to the regular edition, just set aside for a particular reason.
An Artist’s Proof (AP) is essentially the same print the public gets, but reserved for the artist. A Printer’s Proof (PP) goes to the printer; a Hors de Commerce (HC) was marked not-for-sale and typically used for promotion; and an Exhibition Proof (EP) was intended for display. These prints might be rarer than the standard edition, but visually they match it.
Trial proofs are the exception.
Instead of mirroring the edition, they show Warhol trying something out. We see him testing different ink densities, swapping colors, or pushing an image in a direction he might ultimately reject. A trial proof can share the same basic layout as the final print, but the colorway might be entirely different. Some have softer contrasts. Others feel electric or strange. Some, like the Geronimo example, end up looking almost exactly like the version he chose for the regular edition. Others—like the Jane Fonda or Blackglama trial proofs—look like they’ve come from another planet compared to the published print.
Where an AP or PP tells you who the print was for, a trial proof tells you what Warhol was thinking. That’s why they stand apart, and why collectors treat them almost as unique works rather than editioned multiples.
Why Collectors Prize Warhol’s Trial Proofs
If you talk to seasoned Warhol collectors, you’ll notice something: whenever trial proofs appear on the market, they lean in. There’s a good reason. Trial proofs sit in a category of their own. They feel less like “prints” and more like personal artifacts from Warhol’s studio table.

Part of that excitement comes down to rarity. Warhol didn’t make many trial proofs for any given image, and when he did, each one was different. With most proofs in printmaking—APs, PPs, HCs—you’re still looking at the same image as the standard edition, just saved for someone special. But a trial proof? That’s a genuine one-of-one. Owning one is closer to owning a unique painting than an editioned print.
But rarity alone doesn’t explain their pull. What collectors really respond to is the insight a trial proof gives into Warhol’s process. You’re not just buying a finished image; you’re buying the moment Warhol was still deciding what that image should be. Sometimes the differences are subtle, like a slightly cooler red, a softer background, a contrast shift that changes the mood. Other times, the shift is dramatic enough to feel like a completely separate artwork. Those bold departures can reveal an alternate version of a famous Warhol—a version that might have existed, but didn’t—and that sense of possibility is intoxicating.
Trial Proofs and the Warhol Market
And then there’s the market reality: trial proofs consistently sit at the top end of Warhol’s print valuations. Unique color variants appeal to collectors who usually chase paintings or drawings, because they offer something editioned prints normally don’t: true singularity. At auction, it’s not unusual for a trial proof to outperform the regular edition by a wide margin.
One of the clearest examples came from Sotheby’s with Warhol’s Superman (FS II.260). In May 2015, a Superman trial proof estimated at $150,000–$200,000 achieved $401,000 — more than double the high estimate and far above what the regular edition typically brings. Sotheby’s has repeatedly emphasized that the trial proofs for Myths transform each character into a standalone artwork, and collectors respond accordingly. In later sales, further Superman trial proofs continued to outpace expectations, confirming strong demand for these variants, which rarely come to market.

This premium isn’t limited to Warhol’s pop-culture imagery. In January 2024, Phillips London saw a surge of interest in Warhol’s Details of the Renaissance series, with trial proofs dramatically outperforming estimates. A trial proof of Sandro Botticelli, Birth of Venus far outperformed expectations, achieving roughly $297,000—about one and a half times its high estimate. Other trial proofs from the series followed suit: The Annunciation, St. George and the Dragon, and Madonna del Duca da Montefeltro each surpassed their estimates by wide margins, with St. George and the Dragon selling for more than double its high estimate.
Across categories, the pattern holds. Whenever a Warhol trial proof surfaces, collectors respond to more than rarity—they respond to authorship. Each proof captures a singular creative decision that survives in no other form. That combination naturally fuels demand, and the market has continued to recognize their importance.
Authenticity and the Catalogue Raisonné: Verifying Trial Proofs
With the high values and desirability of Warhol trial proofs, authenticating these works is crucial. By nature, a trial proof is unique, which actually provides an important authentication clue: if someone presents a Warhol “trial proof” that looks identical to another, it’s a red flag. As mentioned earlier, no two genuine trial proofs should be alike.
One of the key resources for authenticating any Warhol print (including trial proofs) is Andy Warhol Prints: A Catalogue Raisonné (1962–1987). The Catalogue Raisonné–the definitive catalog of Warhol’s works–explicitly documents trial proof editions. In fact, Warhol’s print catalogue is organized in sections where Section IIB is dedicated entirely to “Trial Proof edition prints,” separate from the standard editions (Section II). This means that for each Warhol print edition, the catalogue will note how many trial proofs exist and often describe them.

Collectors and dealers refer to these entries to verify if a purported trial proof matches known examples. For instance, the Catalogue Raisonné might indicate that a particular screenprint has, say, 10 trial proofs in various color schemes, sometimes even including photos.
Revolver works closely with these listings, but we also know their limits: the Catalogue Raisonné does not and cannot illustrate every trial proof ever printed. Warhol produced unique variants at a pace faster than documentation could capture, and surviving trial proofs sometimes differ wildly from those published in the CR. Because of this, catalogue reference is only one component of authentication. Detailed comparison with verified examples, internal gallery archives, printer’s records, and chain-of-ownership research are equally essential.
Revolver’s depth of experience is key here. Ron Rivlin built the gallery’s authentication expertise by studying and handling thousands of Warhol prints over the years. His expertise has even led the FBI to consult him in cases involving suspected Warhol forgeries.
Visually Examining a Trial Proof: What Experts Actually Look For
When it comes to authenticating a Warhol trial proof, visual inspection is never just a matter of checking signatures and stamps. Trial proofs, in particular, behave differently from regular edition prints. They display certain irregularities and experimental decisions that regular editions do not. Here are a few of them:
Unique colorways and technical rigor
One of the first things an expert notices is the logic of the colorway itself. Because trial proofs are unique variations—experiments pulled while Warhol and Rupert Jasen Smith were still deciding on the final palette—the colors should make sense within Warhol’s working method. When something feels “off” in the layering, or the palette looks suspiciously digital or chemically modern, that’s a warning sign. A genuine Warhol trial proof still carries the studio’s rhythm: the way inks overlap, the order of pulls, the characteristic edges of Rupert Jasen Smith’s screens.
In our authentication guide, we emphasize that genuine Warhol prints—even trial proofs with highly unusual palettes—share the same production integrity as the rest of Warhol’s output: the correct paper, stamps, sheet size, and physical aging consistent with the period. Trial proofs may differ wildly in color, but the underlying materials and print structure align with the same technical discipline as the standard edition.
Pencil markings and edition logic
Signature and pencil markings matter, but again, context is everything. Warhol’s signing habits shifted over the years; early 1980s papers differ subtly from late ones. Even the pressure of a signature can be telling.
A genuine trial proof produced during Warhol’s lifetime will typically carry his pencil signature and the hand-written “T.P.” notation with its corresponding number. Works signed after his death bear the Warhol Foundation or Estate stamp instead — and those details must align precisely with the period and the printing history of the work.
Provenance and market history
Finally, provenance—and whether it aligns with the known flow of trial proofs—is essential. Many of these works were kept by Warhol’s printers or publishers before entering the market. When a trial proof appears with a clean, logical history, and its physical qualities match the studio’s fingerprint, everything coheres. When anything clashes—paper, palette, markings, method—experts can tell.
Visually examining a Warhol trial proof is ultimately about recognizing the coherence of the object: the harmony between its physical qualities, its documented existence, and Warhol’s own creative logic. When all of those align, you’re not just holding a Warhol print—you’re holding a piece of his studio’s decision-making process in your hands.
Conclusion: The Many Warhols That Might Have Been
Andy Warhol’s trial proofs occupy a fascinating intersection between process and product. They are at once experimental trials and finished artworks. A trial proof is Warhol in the act of creation, playing with color and composition, and each surviving proof is a unique artifact of that play.
For collectors and art lovers, understanding trial proofs opens a window onto Warhol’s genius. We see how a fluorescent orange-faced Lenin or a green and pink African Elephant might have been, before the artist chose a different direction. It’s no wonder that these prints, initially just steps on the way to a final image, have become treasured pieces that stand on their own.
In the market, Warhol trial proofs have rightly earned a reputation as “experiments that became treasures.” They demonstrate that even within the realm of printed multiples, Warhol found a way to introduce singularity and surprise. Owning an Andy Warhol trial proof means owning a one-of-a-kind slice of Pop Art history.
Whether you’re a seasoned Warhol collector or an intrigued newcomer, trial proofs offer a smart and exciting opportunity to appreciate the full scope of Warhol’s printmaking artistry–and to hold a piece of his creative trial-and-error that led to some of the most iconic images of the 20th century.
Sources:
- Andy Warhol Prints: A Catalogue Raisonné 1962-1987. D.A.P/Ronald Feldman Fine Arts/Andy Warhol Foundation for the Visual Arts
- Andipa Editions, Andy Warhol Trial Proofs: A Brief Guide (2024)
- Artsy Editorial, Why Andy Warhol’s Trial Proofs Are Attracting Collectors (Arun Kakar, 2023)
- Revolver Gallery, Andy Warhol Buyer’s Guide
- Revolver Gallery, Authenticating Warhols: Details to Help Spot a Fake
- Revolver Gallery, Understanding the Catalogue Raisonné
- Ron Rivlin, The Iconic Warhol: 2024 Print Market Report
- Sotheby’s, Andy Warhol, Printmaking and the Trials of Superman
