The Astrophysics of Dada (1973)

“I have forced myself to contradict myself in order to avoid conforming to my own taste”

Marcel Duchamp

Perhaps nothing suggests the ultimate absurdity of our existence better than the postulated existence of the black hole. This extraordinary astronomical object is so densely compacted that it is invisible -- the sheer force of gravity prevents the escape of light. It is supposed that a black hole the size of a ping pong ball would weigh as much as the earth; in fact, a typical black hole was originally a star, somewhat larger than our sun, whose mass has collapsed into a volume with a radius of a few miles. Though their existence is itself a matter of conjecture, black hole theorists are in general agreement that such objects would have enormous reserves of energy, and some have suggested that the tremendous energy forces released from within a black hole when it collided with the earth were responsible for the strange explosion which devastated a remote region of Siberia in 1908.

According to the theory, black holes are “one way membranes” from which nothing can escape -- except, according to some theorists, into another universe. And they distort time and space through the exertion of their gravitational forces, so that as an object approaches a black hole and is drawn into it at an ever-accelerating rate, it appears to slow down and finally hover indefinitely at its point of entry into the black hole.

It was an Indian student, Subrahamnyan Chandrasekhar (also known as Chandra), who, before the black hole had been proposed as such, first realized what an awesome phenomenon could be created by the force of gravity within a burned out star, noting that, “for any star much larger than the sun, there was no known force that could halt the collapse.” As more astrophysicists studied the question, the black hole theories grew increasingly incredible, leading to the conclusion that “the ultimate destiny of such a black hole, derived from Einstein’s equations, would be infinitely powerful gravity concentrated in an infinitely dense, infinitely small spot where time and space have lost their meaning.” One further extension of the theory as it applies to the popularly accepted notion of a universe expanding to a certain limit states that “if the universe … confined by its own gravity [according to Einstein] is destined to fall back together again, then we are living inside an incipient black hole, from which, even now, no light can escape.”

One of the many curious characteristics of the black hole is that it is perceived only because of the aberrations that result from its influence. The implications and essence of the black hole border on the absurd, yet its existence is postulated on the basis of precise and careful and absolutely scientific – one might say absolutely logical -- calculations. Rationality and absurdity have become one, as have their opposites, in every possible combination.

It is here that the notion of Dada as a black hole can be introduced. For Dada was simultaneously the most logical and the least rational (with all permutations of those adjectives again permitted) movement in the history of art.

Dada represented a rebellion against a world given up to one of the cruelest absurdities witnessed in the history of civilization. It was 1916 and a European war was raging which seemed to the young artists who gathered together in Zurich to be “a war of false emotions and feeble justifications.” “None of us,” wrote Richard Huelsenbeck, “had much appreciation for the kind of courage it takes to get shot for the idea of a nation which is at best a cartel of pel merchants and profiteers in leather, at worst a cultural association of psychopaths ...” As artists, they rejected the superficial beauty of cubism and the glorification of machines inherent in futurism. They gave themselves up instead to the kinds of spontaneous actions and gratuitous gestures which became, in a fairly informal way, the essence of Dada. (Despite the multitude of manifestos issued in the name of Dada, there was never any clearly stated set of principles which defined Dada specifically; that would have been a rather unlikely contradiction in the fabric of a movement that was characterized by contradiction.)

Dada was (or is, for its self-proclaimed death in 1922 does not necessarily mark the actual termination of the Dada era) a movement of unpredictable chaos, spontaneity, and “anti-art” attitudes. It judged the world to be devoid of purpose and meaning, and completely absurd, thus justifying, in the name of Dada, any action, however bizarre or nonsensical. Tristan Tzara observed that, “measured by the scale of eternity, any activity is futile.” Heulsenbeck stated in his 1920 documentation of the early days of Dada that it had “no desire to be anything more than a mirror which one quickly passes by …” and quoted the early abstract painter Archipenko, who had said that “any imitation of nature, however concealed, is a lie.” Still, Hans Arp’s 1949 reflection on the movement should be considered for its simple and subtle emphaticism: “To speak of Dada’s confusing unreality and fail to penetrate its transcendent reality, is to render only a worthless fragment of Dada. Dada was not a farce.”

The nihilistic, negativistic attitudes of Dada were, however, largely responsible for the curious absence of tangible evidence of its existence. Dada was often its own principal subject; many of the writings and activities that were produced by the Dadaists were directed towards themselves, even as they were thrust upon the skeptical and often scandalized, occasionally amused public. Dada created actions, not objects, though of course there are some notable exceptions to this generalization, as there are to all observations concerning Dada. The ready-mades of Duchamp are perhaps the best example of Dada in its most physical manifestation, and it is significant that Duchamp himself said, “I was interested in the ideas, not merely visual products. I wanted to put painting at the service of the mind. “ He wished to produce “a wedding of mental and visual relations. “ But even in its most crazed, repulsive, perverted, and ludicrous moments (Tzara recalls a performance in 1921 when Georges Ribement-Demaignes was showered with tomatoes and beefsteaks), Dada was actually, doggedly, often unconsciously, and in the most absurd manner, pursuing the frightening truth about reality. It is because of this steadfast pursuit of truth, not as some idealistic fantasy, but as it actually was and is, that Dada might be viewed as the most “valid” movement in all of art. It was precisely because the Dadaists had given themselves up to the inevitable contradiction, that their validity was unshakable – in their bastardized child, Surrealism, a new and single-minded purpose produced some extraordinary works, but the work of the surrealists was always suspect because it was governed by the dogmatic pronouncements of Andre Breton.

For many, the invisibility of Dada, sixty years after its appearance, is taken as proof of its irrelevance. If there are more than a handful of texts and objects that have significance in modern society, they are being hidden away. So the critics claim -- and they are correct. “What’s the matter with everyone, wanting to make a museum piece out of Dada?” asked Max Ernst. “Dada was a bomb... can you imagine anyone, around a half century after a bomb explodes, wanting to collect the pieces, sticking it together and displaying it?”

Like the black hole, Dada has collapsed into itself, and its effect is a massive distortion of the outside world. Evidence of the actions of the early Dadaists vanished long ago, perhaps drawn into the metaphorical black hole. But in a very real sense, Dada is invisible -- a contradiction in the world of art as enigmatic as the phenomena of black holes is in the world of astrophysics. To most people, the obvious effect of either is negligible. Still, in a manner similar to the manner in which black holes subtly exert their influence upon the universe, Dada influences all art. But the analogy goes further: it can be argued that the black hole draws all matter towards its center, and so, in effect, controls the universe -- and perhaps the same can be said for Dada. The notion of the absurd cannot be escaped or denied. Its logic is irrefutable, since logic and absurdity become interchangeable. Denied a purpose, every action becomes absurd, and so no action is illogical.

With every painful twist of reasoning, we are drawn more rapidly into this abyss; we cannot escape it; the black hole becomes, symbolically, both the remnant and the precursor of Dada, absurd in its existence, invisible at any distance, devastating in its mysterious power, and destructively logical.

In the period since the supposed decline of the Dada movement, all of civilization and all of art have been drawn closer and closer to an abyss of absurdity. The fruitless search for meaning in our existence is itself a bit of Dada -- energy dissipated in the pursuit of a total impossibility. But it is not just on the abstract level of philosophical dilemma that Dada has appeared. In the holocaust of World War II, the advent of the atomic age, the confusion of good and evil, and the painful awareness of insurmountable obstacles which prevent our escape from futility, we embrace Dada as it exerts its force upon us more and more powerfully.

Once inside a black hole, it is unclear if the perception of reality is significantly altered. Only in relation to the external universe can one say definitively that the perception will be altered. The possibility -- or even the likelihood -- that our universe is itself a black hole, indicates to what extent we may remain ignorant of our own circumstances. It follows that our rapidly accelerating plunge into the black hole which is the absurd world of Dada may be just as invisible -- though an outsider might observe our disappearance as an agonizingly slow descent which is frozen at the exact point where we enter (or have already entered) into the inescapable force field.

The implication that our entrance into the realm of the absurd is invisible to the active participant suggests that we have, in fact, already become unconscious Dadaists. Ironically, logical attempts to prove or disprove that condition become more and more meaningless. For instance, if an observer points to this world of contradictions and boldly asserts, “This is the world of the absurd! We have arrived!” -- does that indicate that we have? Or does that consciousness contradict the thesis? If an artist mounts a bicycle wheel on a kitchen stool and displays the object, is the artist plagiarizing Marcel Duchamp’s 1913 “readymade”, or is this the most perfect Dada statement of our time? And even more perplexing is the question of unknowing plagiarism -- the repetition of a Dada exercise, without the prior knowledge of the original act. Such repetitions can either confirm one of the Dada axioms, that chance and gratuitous acts have intrinsic significance, or they suggest the banality of Dada actions, or they represent the logical extension of the original act. Finally, one ought to consider the link between the actions of Jacques Vaché, “who attended the premiere of Apollinaire’s Mamelles de Tiresias dressed as an English officer, and disrupted the intermission by threatening to ‘shoot up’ the audience,” and the pattern of contemporary terrorism (particularly the non-political variety) which might be considered the fulfillment of the Dada ideal of the gratuitous act.

It is, perhaps, inevitable that the reader will reject the logical conclusions of this entire line of reasoning. When Chandra presented his empirical findings that predicted the unlimited contraction of matter, a noted physicist, Sir Arthur Eddington, considered Chandra’s theory (perhaps even noting its apparent irrefutability) and then dismissed it as “almost a reductio ad absurdum”. But he too, might have, at that point, entered that other world, devoid of reason, having given in to this irrational desire for order, and thus relinquished his position in the ordered world. Wherever that threshold is, it would seem that l have also crossed it, my truths are now untrue, my lies impart wisdom, my arguments are both logical and irrational, and I am, in a disconcerting, if not entirely uncomfortable way, invisible.