{"id":3093,"date":"2012-02-21T16:17:49","date_gmt":"2012-02-21T16:17:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.bezjarzmowie.info.ke\/test\/?p=3093"},"modified":"2013-11-02T20:56:38","modified_gmt":"2013-11-02T19:56:38","slug":"art-as-anarchy","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/siemysli-ke.info\/de\/art-as-anarchy\/","title":{"rendered":"Art as Anarchy"},"content":{"rendered":"

 <\/p>\n

With Dada modern poetic feeling comes to a head. As I have already said rather jokingly, Dada consists of putting down in writing things that cannot stand on their own feet. Dada sets up a powerful negative logic. It radically reverses the direction of intelligence. Dada has nothing in common with anything you may think about it, as Dada cannot be thought. Don\u2019t shrug it off. The very power of its negation gives the Dada scandal a most far-reaching meaning. Apparently it is a movement created by universal minds. Today Pic de la Mirandole would probably be Dada. Dada is not a phenomenon. It answers the philosophical requirements of the age. It endeavours to ignore objective reality in order to plunge into the ultra-realistic depths of the unconscious. However negative the Dada movement may appear, it is certainly born of transcendent investigations of the human mind.<\/span><\/p>\n

<\/span><\/p>\n

We have only to remember the mathematician Henri Poincare, whose renowned theory of convenience puzzled the scientific world. According to Henri Poincare, what appears to the human mind to be most essentially true is what is most eminently expected.<\/span><\/p>\n

So mathematics and particularly Euclidian geometry can have no meaning from an absolute point of view.<\/span><\/p>\n

Our most rigorously accurate conceptions are in reality approximate. The shortest path from one point to another is not, if we examine it closely, the straight line. Similarly, it is debatable whether the earth is a polyhedron rotating around the sun. Certainly it is the most convenient thing imagined by our senses, but we might possibly be motionless with objective reality moving around us. Evidently we tend to choose the principle that best corresponds with the delicate disposition of our organs, and all our thoughts are inevitably posed on our absurd conception of space.<\/span><\/p>\n

Similarly, Bergson\u2019s philosophy is bound to the criticism of the idea of time. Dada is a result of intuitive philosophy. Bergson represents intelligence as strictly adapted to matter and, therefore, incapable of perceiving duration and extension as pure quality.<\/span><\/p>\n

Only intuition is likely to resolve these paradoxes by ignoring intelligence and preferring instinct.<\/span><\/p>\n

As the brain cannot envisage time and space outside the limits of matter, it is essential not to bow to the facts of the tangible world, but to rely on what Bergson calls \u201ethe immediate data of consciousness\u201d. It is by obeying this deep-seated impulse that we can escape from the crude concepts of human reason. Instead of being satisfied with the common vision of the world, we should proceed to an exploration of the unorganised world where everything is in constant creation.<\/span><\/p>\n

According to Bergson\u2019s philosophy, the individual is the variable \u201ecombination of the past\u201d. The principle of identity must give way to the \u201evital impulse\u201d, which reflects the increasing changing of the universe and which defies any attempt to canalise it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Briefly, this is the philosophy compared with which so many previous systems lose most of their meaning.<\/span><\/p>\n

So Dada is simply this effort to free oneself from the relative concepts of human reason. It intends to abolish categories. That is why Dada wants to clear nothing up. All it wants is occasional glimpses of the far-off glimmers of the absolute in the moving wreckage left by the impulse of life.<\/span><\/p>\n

More recently still, Einstein\u2019s theories have aimed a final blow at the philosophy of facts.<\/span><\/p>\n

Einstein identifies the old entities of space and time in a four dimensional conception of the universe, i.e. time is only a fourth dimension of space.<\/span><\/p>\n

The study of luminous radiations suggested to him unhoped for results. The idea of infinity, which has tormented human reason throughout all eternity, for the first time perhaps seems to subside in the Einsteinian axiom: \u201eNothing is faster than light\u201d. The existence of an absolute speed is not beyond our understanding.<\/span><\/p>\n

Einstein\u2019s mathematical research brings to science bases that are less approximate than rectilinear geometry. The straight line does not exist. Our error lies in taking the geodesic line for one. Light is not propagated in a straight line. We must endeavour to understand the universe as a curve \u201ethat is infinite, but not without limits\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n

We are accustomed to envisaging only restricted space. In the same way, the time we can imagine is a local time. \u201eThe passing of time\u201d, said Einstein, \u201eis not always the same\u201d. The speed of light is an absolute speed, i.e. independent of time, and Einstein\u2019s calculations lead to the result that, if man could reach the speed of light, he would not grow old.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201eWe record\u201d, says Einstein again, \u201eonly variations\u201d. Reality is hidden from us by the intervention of our senses. We can only judge movement with regard to a point that we suppose to be fixed. So all movement is relative.<\/span><\/p>\n

Einstein concludes that there exists a field of gravitation where nothing is propagated in the void, but where everything exists by reciprocal correspondences. He reduces all phenomena to electro-magnetic laws.<\/span><\/p>\n

The initial matter is identical; the bodies vary according to the situation occupied by the other bodies in the universe. Therefore all energy contains a sum of inertia, and the ether, which for the modern philosopher represents an imponderable milieu implying complete lack of motion, is for Einstein an abolished postulate.<\/span><\/p>\n

– But to come back to literature – Dada undoubtedly counts among its forerunners Alfred Jarry. The creator of Pere Ubu<\/em> shows a radical inadequation to the common adhesiveness. He invented petaphysics, the science of the particular. His object, he said, was \u201eto study the laws that govern exceptions\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n

In skirting the extreme limits of fantasy, Alfred Jarry overtook the most lucid suggestions of abstract philosophy. In the novel, we would recall the first style of Andre Gide.<\/span><\/p>\n

The characters of the philosophical short stories, such as \u201ePaludes\u201d singularly prepare the bent of mind proper to Dada.<\/span><\/p>\n

In \u201ePaludes\u201d Andre Gide represents life as a bog where we wear ourselves out in useless efforts without being capable of a completely independent action.<\/span><\/p>\n

He understands the vanity of all construction and, to sidetrack the surfeit of human semblances, he escapes into the absurd and decides to take from each of our actions only the obscure part of unconsciousness that it reveals to us.<\/span><\/p>\n

This \u201eabsence of a smile\u201d so peculiar to Andre Gide, which however gives the worrying feeling of comedy, can be found in Dada, and so can the neutral atmosphere where thought evolves like a time-coloured bird.<\/span><\/p>\n

Finally in poetry, besides Mallarme, who was the first to try to achieve the freedom of words, should we mention the rebel Rimbaud? And nearer to us the work of Guillaume Appolinaire who, by his aspiration towards an intangible reality, is the instigator of the worst literary impudence. All forms of Dada can claim kinship with Appollinaire, particularly phonetic Dada, whose bases he established in the last poems of \u201eCalligrammes\u201d, entitled \u201eVictory\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 O mouths man is searching for a new language <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Where the grammarian of any language will have nothing to say<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And these old languages are so close to death<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That it is only out of habit and lack of daring<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That we still use them in poetry<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We want new sounds new sounds new sounds<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 We want vowel-less consonants<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Consonants that fart loudly<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Imitate the sound of the humming top<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Let a continuous nasal sound crackle<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Click your tongue<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Use the champing sound of the ill-mannered eater<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The aspirated rasping of spitting would make a fine sound<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The different labial farts would trumpet out your speeches<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Get accustomed to belching at will<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Speak with your hands snap your fingers<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Tap your cheek as if it were a drum<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The word is sudden and it’s a trembling God<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Advance and bear with me up I regret the hands<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 of those who held them out and worshipped me together<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 What an oasis of arms will welcome me tomorrow<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Do you know the joy of seeing new things.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Moreover the dreadful upheavals of recent years have sufficiently enlightened us on the incalculable folly engendered by the minds of reasonable men. And if these men consider the attempt to upset the meaning of things is insanity, Dada can answer them: \u201eTake hold of the end of your nose\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

* * *<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Tristan Tzara must be quoted first of the group Dada, a movement that has taken on an international aspect. Dada does not pursue any form of art. Dada lays claim to pure idiocy. We must not forget that the Dadas stripped words of their usual character, and therefore they could not have a disparaging meaning. This means that Dada does not proceed along the usual paths of reason. Dada is a radical disorientation of common sense. In this respect Dadas display a veritable ingenuity in being idiots.<\/span><\/p>\n

They carefully avoid everything that is not directly the inverse of what we are used to considering morally as values. Getting rid of every intellectual acquisition so s to be no longer one\u2019s own dupe is the object pursued by Dada. To upset our manner of seeing, the Dadas modify our method of speaking. They want to detach the words that have agglutinated by custom and which attract each other like filings adhere to a magnet.<\/span><\/p>\n

Tristan Tzara offers to shake all the words of the vocabulary in a hat and to pick them out at random. In this process the words will have acquired an intrinsic value. New relation-ships will have formed between them. You will have created the void and you will more easily find the part of the unconscious that determines your actions. All writers who have wanted to re-create a vocabulary for themselves corresponding to their intimate vision of the world have mentally practised this operation.<\/span><\/p>\n

But Dada has a more general meaning. There is no field where its negative influence does not extend. In reality, Dada is an absurd state of mind that nobody escapes. \u201eThe real Dadas are against Dada\u201d, and in fact who is not capering on his dada – his hobbyhorse – at the moment? Francophilia, Germanophilia are simply variations on Dada in the positive state. Dada has tried everything and nothing has been able to satisfy its need for diversity.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dada is a virgin germ<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dada is against the high cost of living<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dada<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Limited company for the exploitation of ideas<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dada has 391 different attitudes and colours according to<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 the sex of the<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 president.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It changes – affirms – says the opposite at the same time<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 – of no importance – shouts – goes fishing.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0Dada is the chameleon of rapid and selfish change.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dada is against the future. Dada is dead. Dada is idiotic.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Long live Dada. Dada is not a literary school yell.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0Tristan Tzara<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/p>\n

Pure idiocy is the universal panacea. Reasonable acts can procure only disadvantage. This is what allows Tristan Tzara to conclude: \u201eSubscribe to Dada the only investment that pays nothing.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

* * *<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

Andre Breton is another theoretician of Dada. For him Dada corresponds to a need for liberty. He revolts against any resignation.Any conviction seemed to him to be a form of renouncement. By exploring the unconscious, he has obtained the most disconcerting findings. He says: \u201eInnocence is tolerated only in its passive form.\u201d And, in fact, innocence, which is a virtue in a virgin, is a crime in the murderer. Andre Breton can no longer understand. And he feels at ease only in the atmosphere of annulment created by Dada. \u201eWhat is beautiful, ugly, big, strong, weak, don\u2019t know, don\u2019 know. What is Carpentier, Renan, Foch, don\u2019t know, don\u2019t know.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

The \u201eMagnetic Fields\u201d written in collaboration with Philippe Soupalt, is in this respect a strange book. In spite of the radical lack of coordination in the ideas, the \u201eMagnetic Fields\u201d leaves a general impression that cannot be doubted. Andre Breton no longer feels attracted to anything. Words have rusted and things have lost all power of attraction for him. He represents the world as a \u201ewaste land\u201d. He no longer hungers for the \u201erotting sweetmeats\u201d that life offers him. Custom stales. He is weary of considering the universe according to categories that lie, and takes refuge in the absurd.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

* * *<\/span><\/p>\n

Philippe Soupalt tries to free himself from the three unities of number, space and time, but feels himself a prisoner within the four cardinal points.<\/span><\/p>\n

He calls his book \u201eRose des Vents\u201d (\u201eCompass Card\u201d). He is aiming at the lyrical ubiquity towards which Apollinaire\u2019s orphism was tending.<\/span><\/p>\n

Philippe Souplalt turns the compass dial on its axis. He scorns the conception of the universe inflicted on him by the grey matter of his brain. To resolve all opposition he turns to Dada.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 My ideas like germs<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 dance along my meninges<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 to the rythm of the exasperating pendulum<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 a revolver shot would be a sweet melody.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He wants to go outside himself. Free himself from determinism. He scales horizons. \u201eI have broken my static ideas,\u201d he says. Modern discoveries show him glimpses of metaphysical probabilities. The Eiffel Tower shoots its beams to the four corners of the world. The idea of space is an illusion imposed on our senses by matter. Everything moves on the same level. He persuades himself that the Gaurisanker is next door to Notre Dame. He is simultaneously open to all sensations.<\/span><\/p>\n

The thousand interpretation that words admit of meet in his mind when he sees a common notice:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/span>\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 REMOVALS TO ALL COUNTRIES<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

This, I think, is how the Dada joke must be understood.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

* * *<\/span><\/p>\n

Louis Aragon has not foresworn every scruple of art. Sometimes he even seems to remain attached to the old prosodic forms. Yet Loius Aragon has found his salvation in Dada. He calls his book \u201eBonfire\u201d. It is a bonfire on which he sacrifices all the vain acquisitions of his mind for a new order of things that will arise from the absurd suggestions of consciousness. A neutral colour – bitumen or reseda – is not Aragon\u2019s favourite. We even find bright colours the Dadas were generally not fond of.<\/span><\/p>\n

In a piece called \u201eJolt\u201d, Aragon shows us how a sudden change comes about in the orientation of his thought:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 BROUF<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Flight for ever from the bitterness<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0The wonderful flying meadows newly-painted turn<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Stumbling fields<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Standstill<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 My head rings and so many rattles<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 My heart is in pieces the scenery shattered<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

The poet remembers his adolescence, the years vexed with latin and algebra and he sums up his youth in a poem, \u201eLife of Jean Baptiste A.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Rosa the rose and that drop of ink oh my youth<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Calculate Cos. &<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 in function of<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0tg. a\/2<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 My Apero childhood hardly glimpsed<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 By the fly-blown windows fo a cafe<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Youth and I didn\u2019t kiss every mouth<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The first one to get to the end of the corridor<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 DEAD<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 A shade sleeps in the middle of the sun, it\u2019s your eye<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

But now that the poet has rid himself of the narrow human conventions, a hope is aflame in his breast. By the light of this bonfire he glimpses new constructions, salutary transformations.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Then will rise the ponies<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Youths<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 In bands by the hand by the town<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

Louis Aragon is the only Dada who seems to be preparing a territory of conciliation between the suggestions of consciousness and the demands of reason.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0* * *<\/span><\/p>\n

Paul Eluard is aiming at a complete transformation of language. \u201eLet\u2019s try,\u201d he says, \u201eit is difficult to remain absolutely pure.\u201d Language as it reaches us by way of usage no longer has any meaning. It is chatter which, according to Paul Eluard, no longer has any raison d\u2019etre, and he wants to institute, in poetry, the most elementary simplicity.<\/span><\/p>\n

In \u201eAnimals and their Men\u201d he endeavours to refresh his vision of the world by simplified images and initial analogies: The fish in the air and the man in the water. The grass in front of the cow, the child in front of the milk.<\/span><\/p>\n

Paul Eluard wants to retain nothing of things but the essential relation-ships in order to obtain a complete purity of feeling. Here is an example of this elementary poetry:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 WET<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The stone skims over the water<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The smoke does not enter.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The water like a skin<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 That cannot be wounded<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Is caressed<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 By man and by the fish<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Snapping like a bow-string,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The fish, when the man catches it,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Dies, as it cannot swallow<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 This planet of air and light<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 And the man sinks to the bottom of the water<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 For the fish<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Or for the bitter solitude<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Of the supple ever-closed water.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What extremely shocks Paul Eluard\u2019s set purpose of simplicity is the \u201edistinguished allure\u201d. According to him, poetry must be something \u201enaive like a mirror\u201d. He conceives of a poetry where \u201etime does not pass\u201d. It is difficult, as man moves in a thick atmosphere. In his Examples, he says: \u201eman, the air-diver\u201d. Yet he has a confused glimpse of a universal unity that makes him say: \u201eI have crossed through life in one go\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0* * *<\/span><\/p>\n

Francis Picabia is not concerned with practical applications. He uses a systematic curtness to destroy everything. It would be difficult to find a more complete absence of morality elsewhere.<\/span><\/p>\n

It is in the agitated state that follows on love that Francis Picabia tries to formulate for himself a conception of man stripped of all illusion.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Read my little book<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 after making love<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0in front of the rubber fireplace<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He calls this little book \u201eThoughts without language\u201d. As he does not want to be taken in by words.<\/span><\/p>\n

He no longer distinguishes values. Love, art, religion: chemical reactions. It is a quasi-psychological Dada. The heart is like the prostate gland, the belly like the brain.<\/span><\/p>\n

And Francis Picabia says:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 The events of my life<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Take place in the sauce<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Of my heartbeats.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

In \u201eThe Girl born without a Mother\u201d, poems accompanied by drawings, he applies himself to seeing the erotic mechanism work. He takes desire for the only reality, and there is hardly anything he believes in other than seminal fluid.<\/span><\/p>\n

Life, according to Picabia, is not a \u201ecream cake\u201d; it is an \u201eold music-box\u201d that churns out the same tune over and over. As for the price he puts on human knowledge? \u201eMen thinh\u201d, he says, \u201eLike a free Chinaman.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Francis Picabia experiences an innocent pleasure in throwing stink bombs in schools and academies. The smell of sodium cacodylate does not put him off.<\/span><\/p>\n

In \u201eJesus Christ Rastaquouere\u201d Picabia\u2019s disillusioned philosophy seems for an instant as if it is trying to escape from its incoherence. But if Picabia expresses himself a little more clearly than usual, it is to turn common sense inside out like a glove. His deliberately disorientated mind enjoys standing the scale of values upside down. \u201eIt\u2019s words that don\u2019t exist\u201d, he says. \u201eWhat doesn\u2019t have a name doesn\u2019t exist.\u201d And by some kind of metaphysical spite he uses a conjuror\u2019s skill to juggle with traditional locutions.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 I can only give my word of honour if I am lying. Cheat, but<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 don’t hide<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 it. Cheat in order to lose, never to win, for a winner loses<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 himself,<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 etc.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

And he sums up his opinion of life in a short story: The story of a man who chewed a revolver!<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201eThis man was already old, and all his life he had indulged in this strange chewing; in fact his extraordinary weapon would kill him if he stopped an instant; yet he had been warned that, in any case, one day inevitably the revolver would go off and kill him; however, with no sign of wearying, he went on chewing…\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n

Francis Picabia, strange he may seem, is a tragic poet.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span>\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

* * *<\/span><\/p>\n

Clement Pansears is the only representative of Dada in Belguim and it is extremely unlikely that anyone here will thank him for it. Yet nobody can let his mind roam on the periphery of the world of reason, in the barely accessible regions of the absurd, as easily as Pansears.<\/span><\/p>\n

The \u201ePan-pan au cul du nu negre\u201d is Clement Pansears\u2019 first attempt. This title may mean the \u201enu negre\u201d followed by the \u201epan-pan\u201d, but I think that by pan-pan Clement Pansears <\/span>means a revolver. So it would be different then. Clement Pansears listens to all the discordant noises that surround us today. He seems to have surveyed all the ideas, as we can see from certain things he says (\u201eUne museliere au rheteur de la surbrute\u201d, etc.) and in the end he gives the impression of a disorganised gramophone that begins to sound the all-clear when it comes to the end of the record. Clement Pansears misuses scientific terminology. Now and again, one thinks of Rabelais\u2019 Limousin scholar, but he justifies himself by saying, \u201eA useless chemist is as good as a philosopher – who discovers principles by evaporating vocables.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

In \u201eBar Nicanor\u201d Clement Pansears follows the same tendency, but to a much greater degree. Clement Pansears launches into heady delights. In the piece called \u201eAero\u201d he upsets the cardinal points. He drives in the void, executes \u201etrapeze turns\u201d. His ears tingle by dint of \u201ebrowsing raw noises in interplanetary scales\u201d. He exhausts his engine to get as much as possible out of it.<\/span><\/p>\n

Getting drunk procures the same incongruous feelings for him. He puts his lips to every electuary and examines his half-drunkenness to unveil the speck of immateriality that throbs inside him. He praises the eminently cosmopolitan nature of drunken orgies. Solving existence, according to him, is to take a good one over the eight until the walls knock into each other, while the principle of being pursues the \u201emotley race towards pure quality the infinite denominator leading to zero pan-O.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

Perverted feelings run through the erogeneous zones. He destroys woman as a child would a toy, annoyed at not getting something more wonderful. Clement Pansears makes one think of a Des Esseintes corresponding to the wildest audacity of the new man. In \u201eThe defence of laziness\u201d a morbid perturbation seems to result from the constant effort of mental inversion. Sudden shocks like electric bells crackle in his head. Clement Pansears has been, one after the other, \u201ea tamer of tribades\u201d, \u201ea paria esdemolitions\u201d, \u201ea violator of human identity\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n

Men seem sexless to him. With an Erasmic indifference he creates a defence of laziness. What is cynicism, if it is not laziness? Laziness in the sovereign condition of human reason.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 It\u2019s annoying<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 My encephalus is out of tune.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Impossible to re-tune my understanding<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 to the tuning fork of the fashionable cosmic variations.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

He resigns himself to sacrificing to laziness:<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Do I revolt you?<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 All revolt aborts.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

What is the point of rebelling? Let us do like the others do. Instead of creating the revolutions, let us go on general strike. Everything is there. In any case laziness extends to the first terrestrial elements.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Spasmodic morbidness<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 \u00a0\u00a0\u00a0Sea and land<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 Penetrate each other<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 and the commotion is comatose.<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201eBe lazy,\u201d Clement Pansears says to himself, possessed with an orgiastic weariness. Clement Pansears is a modern man in the most excessive meaning of this expression.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

* * *<\/span><\/p>\n

These are the people who form the Dada Pleiad. But it is difficult to be conclusive as regards Dada, as Dada is a return to unorganised life, by a means of expression stripped of any verbal habits. Dada makes fun of onomatopoeia.<\/span><\/p>\n

In ancient times they used to say that those who had lifted the veil of physical phenomena had seen the great god Pan. The upheavals of our time that have revealed a solution of continuity in the evolution of mankind have given rise to a panic literature. Dada is without doubt a pessimistic movement. But its pessimism is based on the danger of human ambitions. It is in de la Rochefoucald and Schopenhauer that we must search for the preliminaries to an international agreement. Dada is the only possible link between men since its fundamental principle consists in being right about nothing. Not to know Dada is not to know our time. In a century when Lenin falls after Wilson, Dada has nothing that can surprise us. Dadas are deliberately out of their depth. But if they are fools they are not stupid. They say nothing for a laugh and take nothing seriously.<\/span><\/p>\n

Dada is a philosophy. Dada is a moral. Dada is an art, the art of being likeable in a time when all superiority has become unbearable and when all human grandeur seems a joke. Dada is the flower of ruins, not the little blue flower of optimism that poets want to pick amid the debris of a civilisation, but an azalea, an arid azalea, which is not begging for a downpour of blood, but is rather seeking to slake its thirst in drought.<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/span><\/p>\n

\u00a0S. J. Welton<\/span><\/strong><\/p>\n

<\/strong>\u00a0<\/p>\n

\u00a0Pierwodruk<\/strong>: http:\/\/www.spunk.org\/texts\/art\/sp000400.html<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

  With Dada modern poetic feeling comes to a head. As I have already said rather jokingly, Dada consists of<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"colormag_page_layout":"default_layout","footnotes":""},"categories":[143],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-3093","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-inne"],"yoast_head":"\nArt as Anarchy - SI\u0118 MY\u015aLI<\/title>\n<meta name=\"robots\" content=\"index, follow, max-snippet:-1, max-image-preview:large, max-video-preview:-1\" \/>\n<link rel=\"canonical\" href=\"https:\/\/siemysli-ke.info\/de\/art-as-anarchy\/\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:locale\" content=\"de_DE\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:type\" content=\"article\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:title\" content=\"Art as Anarchy - SI\u0118 MY\u015aLI\" \/>\n<meta property=\"og:description\" content=\"  With Dada modern poetic feeling comes to a head. 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