UBC Theses and Dissertations

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UBC Theses and Dissertations

Berlin Dada and the notion of context Wall, Jeffrey David 1970

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BERLIN DAM AND THE NOTION OP CONTEXT by JEFFREY DAVID WALL B. A., University of B r i t i s h Columbia, 1968 A THESIS SUBMITTED IN FARTIAL FULFILMENT OF THE REQUIREMENTS FOR THE DEGREE OF Master of Arts in' the Department of FINE ARTS We accept this thesis as conforming to the required standard THE UNIVERSITY OF. BRITISH COLUMBIA May, 1970 I n p r e s e n t i n g t h i s t h e s i s i n p a r t i a l f u l f i l m e n t o f t h e r e q u i r e m e n t s f o r a n a d v a n c e d d e g r e e a t t h e U n i v e r s i t y o f B r i t i s h C o l u m b i a , I a g r e e t h a t t h e L i b r a r y s h a l l m a k e i t f r e e l y a v a i l a b l e f o r r e f e r e n c e a n d s t u d y . I f u r t h e r a g r e e t h a p e r m i s s i o n f o r e x t e n s i v e c o p y i n g o f t h i s t h e s i s f o r s c h o l a r l y p u r p o s e s may be g r a n t e d by t h e H e a d o f my D e p a r t m e n t o r by h i s r e p r e s e n t a t i v e s . I t i s u n d e r s t o o d t h a t c o p y i n g o r p u b l i c a t i o n o f t h i s t h e s i s f o r f i n a n c i a l g a i n s h a l l n o t be a l l o w e d w i t h o u t my w r i t t e n p e r m i s s i o n . D e p a r t m e n t o f T h e U n i v e r s i t y o f B r i t i s h C o l u m b i a V a n c o u v e r 8, C a n a d a D a t e i i A B S T R A C T I. B E R L I N DADA AND T H E N O T I O N O F C O N T E X T A . D o m i n a n t m a t e r i a l f o r c e = d o m i n a n t i n t e l l e c t u a l f o r c e i n s o c i e t y . B . S o c i e t y a n d l a n g u a g e a r e a s p e c t s o f a s i n g l e p r o c e s s . C . I n t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y s o c i e t y t h e f u n d a m e n t a l h u m a n p r o c e s s o f l a b o u r i s d i s t o r t e d . D . A r t i n c o n f l i c t w i t h s o c i e t y o v e r t h e a t t i t u d e t o w a r d l a b o u r a s p r o c e s s . 1 . - A r t i s i n s t a t e o f t e n s i o n w i t h l a n g u a g e . E . I n t w e n t i e t h c e n t u r y t h e i d e o l o g i c a l f u n c t i o n o f a r t i s t a k e n o v e r b y o t h e r m e d i a . 1 . - T h e a r t i s t i s d e p r i v e d o f s o c i a l n e c e s s i t y . a . - A r t i s t s ' i m m e d i a t e r e a c t i o n was a b s o l u t e r e j e c t i o n o f s o c i e t y ( e . g . R i m b a u d . ) F . T h e D a d a m o v e m e n t i s t h e f i r s t s t e p b e y o n d a b s o l u t e r e j e c t i o n t o w a r d a v i a b l e c r i t i c a l d i a l e c t i c . 1 . - B e r l i n D a d a e s t a b l i s h e s c r i t i q u e o f t h e n o t i o n o f t h e a v a n t - g a r d e , a . - M a r x i s t a t t i t u d e s i n B e r l i n 1 9 1 7 - 1 9 2 2 . B e r l i n D a d a r e s i s t s m y s -t i f i c a t i o n , ( e x a m p l e : a t t i t u d e t o w a r d p r i m i t i v i s m i n p o e t r y . ) G . P o w e r o f m y t h i s a b i l i t y t o c o n t r o l d e f i n i t i o n s . A p p l i e d m e a n i n g s b e c -ome a b s o l u t e m e a n i n g s ( r e i f i c a t i o n ) . H . R e s i s t a n c e t o m y s t i f i c a t i o n m e a n s h i s t o r i c a l a w a r e n e s s ; h i s t o r y a s t h e p r o c e s s o f d e v e l o p m e n t o f m e a n i n g s . 1 . - H i s t o r i c a l a w a r e n e s s i s c o n t e x t u a l a w a r e n e s s a n d p r o c e s s a w a r e n e s s . 2. - A r t i n c o n f l i c t w i t h s o c i a l d e f i n i t i o n s e n g a g e s i n c o n t e x t u a l s t r -u g g l e . 3. - M a n i f e s t o i s t h e t o o l o f c o n t e x t u a l s t r u g g l e . a . - C r i t i c a l a n a l y s i s o f H u e l s e n b e c k ' s a n d T z a r a ' s m a n i f e s t o s s h o w s t h a t m a n i f e s t o i s a n t i t h e t i c a l t o " a r t c o n d i t i o n " . M a n i f e s t o i s s u c c e s s f u l t o t h e e x t e n t t h a t i t d o e s n o t o p e r a t e a s a r t . I . H i s t o r i c a l a w a r e n e s s m a k e s n e g a t i o n o f a r t p o s s i b l e : n e g a t i o n o f a r t b y a r t . ( D u c h a m p a n d B e r l i n D a d a ) . 1 . - N e g a t i o n o f a r t m e a n i n g f u l o n l y i n s o c i a l t e r m s . 2 . - N e g a t i o n o f a r t b y D u c h a m p a n d B e r l i n D a d a b r o u g h t a r t i n t o e x i s t -e n c e a n e w . A new m e t h o d o f c r e a t i o n i s e s t a b l i s h e d . a . - N e w m e t h o d i s t o t a l l y h i s t o r i c a l / d i a l e c t i c a l . O b j e c t i o n t o r e i f i c a t i o n m a k e s a r t p o s s i b l e . J . New m e t h o d o f B e r l i n D a d a a n d D u c h a m p t a k e s a r t - c o n t e x t a s i t s s u b j e c t -m a t t e r . K . O l d c o n t e x t b e c o m e s a r t i f a c t i n new c o n t e x t ; a t o t a l b r e a k i s e s t a b l i s h -e d i n w h i c h new s y s t e m c o m p l e t e l y r e d e f i n e s a c t i v i t y . L . A r t ' s a c t i v i t y i s i n h e r e n t l y r e v o l u t i o n a r y . 1 . - F o r B e r l i n D a d a , t h e i m p o r t a n c e o f a r t l a y i n t h e c o n t e x t u a l a s s u m p -t i o n s made b y t h e b o u r g e o i s a u d i e n c e . I I . A L I E N A T I O N AND IDEOLOGY A . A c c o u n t o f M a r x ' s a n a l y s i s o f l a b o u r p r o c e s s ; c o n c e p t o f a l i e n a t i o n , c r -i i i i tique of p o l i t i c a l economy,philosophy. B. Ideas are created from practice. C. A l l a c t i v i t y i s by d e f i n i t i o n s o c i a l i n the human world. D. D i a l e c t i c a l c r i t i c i s m establishes existence as a process. E . The nature of art i s d i a l e c t i c a l . The center of art i s process, revealed through theory which describes context. F. Account of the theory of ideology. The opposition of theory to ideology. G. Marx: Ideology = False consciousness. H. Account of how ideology enters language; truth and error part of single process of knowledge. I. Language i s s o c i a l i n nature. J. Ideology mediates between action and language. K. Ideology i s function of class antagonism. Account of difference between myth and ideology. L. D i a l e c t i c a l c r i t i c i s m brings knowledge (true theory) out of false conscious-ness through contextual awareness. M. Knowledge destroys ideology. H. Art i s a function of knowledge. I I I . ART VS. CULTURE A. Culture i s society's d e f i n i t i o n ; i t i s a function of ideology. B. Account of bourgeois-idealist concept of culture. C. Post-bourgeois world a l t e r i n g bourgeois-idealist c u l t u r a l ideology, moving i t toward more p o s i t i v i s t i c viewpoint i n connection with technological r a -t i o n a l i t y . D. Art i s a particular kind of labour: i t i s the image of a l l labour. E. Bourgeois-idealist concept of culture remained d i a l e c t i c a l ; new ideology denying d i a l e c t i c idea completely. F. Marcuse's c r i t i c i s m of post-bourgeois cu l t u r a l ideology. G. Account of new notion of "empty category" of Duchamp and Berlin Dadaists. H. Social function of a work of art essentially transforms i t s meaning. I. In face of antagonistic s o c i a l r e a l i t y , art structures alternative events, generates an alternative language. J . This language and event i s unreal; the fact that i t proclaims i t s e l f as • antagonistic to the existing i s the basis of i t s significance. 1 "The ideas of the ruling class are, in every age, the ruling ideas: i.e. the class which is the dominant material force in society is at the same time its dominant intellectual force. The class which has the means of material pro-duction at i t s disposal, has control at the same time over the means of mental production, so that in consequence the ideas of those whollack the means of mental production are, in general, subject to i t . The dominant ideas are nothing more than the ideal expression of the dominant material relationships, the dom-inant material relationships grasped as ideas; hence of the relationships which make the one class the ruling one, therefore, the ideas of i t s dominance. The individuals composing the ruling class possess among other things consciousness, and therefore think. Insofar, therefore, as they rule as a class and determined the extent and compass of an epoch, i t is self-evident that they do this in i t s whole range, hence among other things rule also as thinkers, as producers of ideas, and regulate the production and distribution of the ideas of their age: thus their ideas are the ruling ideas of the epoch. For instance, in an age and in a country where royal power, aristocracy and bourgeoisie are contending for mastery and where, therefore, mastery is shared, the doctrine of the separation of powers proves to be the dominant idea and is expressed as an 'eternal law*. The division of labour, which we already saw above as one of the chief forces of history up t i l l now, manifests i t s e l f also in the ruling class as the division of mental and material labour, so that inside this class one part app-ears as the thinkers of the class (its active, conceptive ideologists, who make the perfecting of the illusion of the class about it s e l f their chief source of livelihood), while the others' attitude to these ideas and illusions i s more passive and receptive, because they are in reality the active members of this class and have less time to make up ideas and illusions about themselves. With-in this class this cleavage can even develop into a certain opposition and hos-t i l i t y between the two parts, which, however, in the case of a practical c o l l i -sion, in which the class i t s e l f i s endangered, automatically comes to nothing, in which case there also vanishes the semblance that the ruling ideas were not the ideas of the ruling class and had a power distinct from the power of this class. The existence of revolutionary ideas in a particular period presupposes the existence of a revolutionary class..." — K a r l Marx, The German Ideology 2 "Every alienation of man from himself and from Nature appears i n the r e l a -tion which he postulates between other men and himself and Nature. Thus r e l i g i -ous alienation i s necessarily exemplified i n the relation between l a i t y and priest, or, since i t i s here a question of the s p i r i t u a l world, between the l a i t y and a mediator. In the real world of practice, this self alienation can only be expressed i n the r e a l , practical relation of man to his fellow men. The medium through which alienation occurs i s i t s e l f a practical one. Through ali e n -ated labour, therefore, man not only produces his relation to the object, and to the process of production as to alien and hostile men; he also produces the relation of other men to his production and his product, and the relation bet-ween himself and other men. Just as he creates his own production as a v i t i a t -ion, a punishment, and his own product as a loss, as a product which does not belong to him, so he creates the domination of the non-producer over production and i t s product. As he alienates his own a c t i v i t y , so he bestows upon the stra-nger an a c t i v i t y which i s not his own." Karl Marx, Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844 I BERLIN DADA AND THE NOTION OF CONTEXT 3 Certainly there have been periods of history i n which art was generally integrated with the organization of society; the period of the twentieth century i s not one of these. One of the primary characteristics of art particularly since the beginning of the F i r s t World War has been i t s profound antagonism to what has been defined as "culture". In such a h i s t o r i c a l situation, art i s seen to have a c r i t i c a l function. Its relationship to the existent state of affa i r s i s negative, and i t i s invol-ved with a l l that which, i n society, i s denied or does not exist. By taking on such a role, the a c t i v i t y of art-making develops an acute concern with context. Every society maintains the right, or the power, to determine definitions i n regard to a l l a c t i v i t y , including of course a r t i s t i c a c t i v i t y . Art always has a context. However, i n this century, art has become involved with the creation of a context i n the face of an already existing one, and therefore, with resisting an existing set of definitions. I t may seem audacious to claim that, i n the ind-u s t r i a l and late industrial societies, art i s the expression of a l l that does not exist, a l l that i s denied. This paper attempts to j u s t i f y such a claim. As Marx says, the dominant ideas of an age can be seen as the "dominant material relationships grasped as ideas". This paper attempts to discuss, i n theoretical terms, the bases of the dominant material relationships and to del-ineate their divergence from the very material relationships exemplified by the art-process. Society's definition of art functions as the horizon of art. In Duchamp's terms, "...the a r t i s t may shout from a l l the rooftops that he Is s ,a genius; he w i l l have to wait for the verdict of the spectator i n order that his declarat-ions take on a social v a l u e . . . T h i s definition i s the fundamental or univers-a l grammar of p o s s i b i l i t i e s , judgements and categories. This i s an unescapable 4 fact, just as i t inescapable (therefore) that the a r t i s t can never consider him-self separate from society or from history. But this horizon i s a broken one, i t s rationale askew. We shall discuss how i t has been created out of, and i n turn has created, a distortion of a fundamental human process, that which Marx called "labour". This basic distortion causes the a r t i s t to resist the horizon as oppressive. The horizon i s a horizon of codifications.and definitions. Social organiz-ation can be seen as, i n certain terms, the results of standardized patterns of interaction and perception, as "constant scanning patterns". Language i s obvious-l y a central factor i n the establishment and maintenance of constant scanning patterns. In this sense, language i s a structural system, i n which the universe i s represented symbolically, and i t s relations depicted. I t i s an a p r i o r i that human society i s l i n g u i s t i c i n nature, that language and social organization are i n fact one process. Marx maintains that the human being i s the only creature on earth who "creates the world"; i f this i s true, we must remember that at the same time and i n the same action, he creates his language, and his language creates him. If the definition of society which has been produced by the material basis of society i s a distortion of the labour process, and i f art has recognized t h i s , then art must exist i n a state of^tension with language. Much nineteenth and twentieth century art, from Rimbaud to Duchamp, Burroughs and Warhol, can be seen, i n abstract terms, as an attack upon the language of industrial c a p i t a l i s t society. I t i s an attack, not by being a propaganda device, but simply by being art. In the society with which Marx concerned himself the immediate ancestor of our society the function of art and the role of the a r t i s t had undergone a deep and radical transformation from the state i n which i t existed i n a pre-5 technological-rational system. One need only mention Rubens or Bernini and their relationship to the social processes of their time to make the point clear. The years since the beginning of World War I have witnessed the f i n a l stages of the removal of any real social necessity from a r t i s t i c a c t i v i t y . This removal has i t s beginnings i n the establishment of the bourgeois-industrial world i n the nineteenth century, but i t s sources are discernible i n the organization of Ital y 2 during the "Renaissance". In the nineteenth century the new conditions of mate-r i a l production created by the bourgeois class established as a corollary, their media of communication, their methods of rendering themselves symbolic, of est-ablishing i n consciousness the abstract representation of the principles of th-e i r right to power. Mechanical methods of communication and the distribution of information and images were grasped by the conceptualizing ideologists of the society as a major part of the tool-complex of their i n t e l l e c t u a l dominance, just as the factory, the open market, and rent were understood as the basis of their material dominance. Mass publication, s t i l l and movie photography, radio and so on are i n the s t r i c t e s t sense major factors i n the c r i t i c a l state i n which fine art exists i n this period. Consciousness of the situation was appar-ent from the beginnings of the bourgeois-industrial world, but i t was not at a workable le v e l ; i t was articulated purely i n terms of the negative, and the ab-solute despair of ar t i s t s and their attempt (as i n Lautreamont) to turn comple-tely away from the new society. Certainly by the f i f t h decade of the nineteenth century a r t i s t s were deeply aware of the alteration i n the mode of their exist-ence. I t was apparent that art had no place i n the new world or i n i t s concept-ualizations, save that accorded a "great tradition" and i t s value as cultural j u s t i f i c a t i o n , as cultural symbol. But the bulk of this ideological work was taken over by the mechanics of communication of a geometrically-progressing technology. The tone of European (and particularly French) art of the later 6 nineteenth and early twentieth centuries i n relation to advancing bourgeois so-ciety, i s epitomized by Rimbaud: desperate negation and a deep, c e l l u l a r loathing: Si j'avais des antecedents a un point quelconque de l'h i s t o i r e de France! Mais non, rien. I I m'est bien evident que j ' a i toujours ete race infe-rieure. Je ne puis comprendre l a revolte. Ma race ne se souleva jamais que pour p i l l e r : tels les loups a l a bete qu'ils n'ont pas tuee. Je me rappelle l'his t o i r e de l a France f i l l e ainee de 1'Eglise. J'aurais f a i t , maintenant, le voyage-.de terre sainte; vues de Byzance, des remparts de Solyme; le culte de Marie, l'attendrissement sur le crucifie s"8eveillent en moi parmi mille feeries profanes.—Je suis assis, lepreux, sur les pots casses et les orties, au pied d'un mur ronge par l e s o l e i l . Rimbaud's "career" was one of the fundamental guideposts for the Dadaists. They took him as a hero, understanding the implications of his vast and severe rejection of European culture. In their most lucid moments, they reveal the awareness of the crucial meaning of Rimbaud: the necessity of confronting the culture, of making a public denial of i t s . v a l i d i t y and, therefore, of i t s defig-nitions. In a certain sense, Harrar i s the ultimate, mythic rejection; but i t i s at the same time an imcomplete rejection, which i s content with the device of "absolute" denial, which makes no attempt at development of an alternative. It i s important to understand that Rimbaud's reaction, l i k e that of such figures as Gerard de Nerval, Lautreamont and Baudelaire as well, took place i n a more "primitive" context, one i n which the emerging r e a l i t y had not yet attained a degree of resolution and delineation which would make possible a structured progression out of the immediate act of negation. By 1916, the configuration of European culture had been more clearly defin-ed; for many people, the 1914-1918 war was a summation. The war was an immediate catalyst for Dada a c t i v i t y , though i t i s obvious that i t was not, s t r i c t l y spea-7 king, the cause.. The war was, for the Dadaists, the objectification of the fac-tors i n European society vhich were most distressing. The Dada groups were faced with a situation i n which the advancing' culture and i t s dying sources revealed, once and for a l l i n a specific c r i s i s / the corruption of i t s assumptions. Rimbaud had established the definitive rejection per se; i t was l e f t to the Dada groups to make the f i r s t important extension of his position. To emulate him was meani ingless: s i t t i n g quietly i n neutral Zurich, they may as well have been i n Harr-ar. Richard Huelsenbeck, one of the original members of the earliest Zurich group, discusses the alternatives: " I f Tristan Tzara had barely suspected the meaning of this famous existence we drag along between apes and bedbugs, he would have seen the fraud of a l l art and a l l a r t i s t i c movements and he would have become a Dadaist. Where have these gentlemen who are so eager to appear i n the history of literature l e f t their irony? Buried i n books, they have lost their independence, the ambition to be as famous as Rabelais or Flaubert has robbed them of the courage to laugh there i s so much marching, writing, l i v i n g to be done. Rimbaud jumped i n the ocean and started to swim to St. Helena, Rimbaud was a h e l l of a guy, they s i t i n the cafes and rack their brains over the quickest way of get-ting to be a h e l l of a guy. They have an academic concep-tion of l i f e a l l l i t t e r a t i are Germans; and for that reason they w i l l never.get close to l i f e . Rimbaud very well understood that literature and art are mighty, sus-picious things and how well a man can l i v e as a pasha or a brothel-owner, as the creaking of the beds sings a song of mounting profits."4 To s i t i n the cafes i s essentially the "bourgeois" reaction: to admire the "work" and ignore the implications; that i s , to enforce the context which i s applied to art, to accept the situation i n which an a r t i s t i s admired so long as his terms and their extensions are denied existence and effectiveness. Huel-senbeck understood immediately that one cannot profess to admire "Rimbaud" and then by accepting a context which the a r t i s t demands be obliterated, assume that this i s sufficient. "While Tzara was s t i l l writing 'Dada ne s i g n i f i e rien' i n 8 Germany Dada lost i t s art-for-art 1s-sake character with i t s very f i r s t move. Instead of continuing to produce art, Dada, i n direct contrast to .abstract art, - 5 went out and found an adversary." What sets Dada apart from other "radical" European art movements of the time i s i t s e x p l i c i t , self-conscious c r i t i c a l nature. Moving into the arena from the domain of art and liter a t u r e , i t affirmed their necessity by denying i t s e l f the right to practice them, becoming a species of "didactic theatre", i n which the central themes are: context, definition, language, p o l i t i c s . I t i s necessary to make a distinction. In Prance, Dada was carried out i n the shadow of the immediate tradition of avant-garde poetry, and an immediate interest i n the workings of the unconscious considered largely for i t s own sake. The position of Andre Breton i n the French Dada movement, and his attitude to-ward that movement, are important considerations. His early interest i n psychi-atry, his later acquaintance with Freud, his involvement with Jacques Vache have become common knowledge. From the beginning of Dada i n Paris i n 1919 Breton un-derstood that i t was a particular manifestation, something which would necess-a r i l y be transcended. His early involvement with the exploration of the uncon-scious combined with a deep and, i t might be argued, rather "traditional" comm-itment to the poetry of the French avant-garde mediated against the development of the kind of overt and direct p o l i t i c a l action which characterizes the Dada group i n Berlin, and to a lesser extent, i n Cologne. As well, the p o l i t i c a l situation was different i n the two centers. Certain-l y , post-war Paris was not quiet, but i t experienced nothing l i k e the immediate p o l i t i c a l c r i s i s which gripped Berlin, whose streets rang with the gunfire of the Spartakus Rebellion, and with word of the October Revolution i n Russia. The Berlin group became directly involved with revolution on the concrete l e v e l , while i n Paris the revolt was confined to l i t e r a r y c i r c l e s and bourgeois cultur-9 a l ignorance, i n the manner of Zurich.** The Parisian Dada group had no connect-ions with p o l i t i c a l organizations; the earliest member of the French c i r c l e to take this kind of action was Pierre Naville, who joined the French Communist 7 Party i n 1925» out of the Surrealist group. In Germany however, the Marxist analysis and the Party were constant companions of Dada. Of the original Berl-i n conclave, Wieland Herzfelde, his brother Johann (who changed his name to Johnny Heartfield as an act of p o l i t i c a l provocation during World War l ) had been Party members previous to Huelsenbeck•s return to Germany to begin Dada there, and before even the beginnings of the Zurich group. These two were i n collaboration with the poets Franz Jung and Raoul Hausmann, and with the graphic a r t i s t , George Grosz. Johannes Baader, "der Oberdada", had been a contributor to Die Frie Strasse during the war and entered the movement immediately upon g Huelsenbeck's a r r i v a l upon the scene i n January of 1917. Huelsenbeck was the unifying factor for Dada i n Berlin, for he brought the "idea" of Dada with him from Zurich, as Tzara took i t to Paris i n 1920. These people who had spent the war years i n Germany were particularly receptive to the Dada message of revolt. Huelsenbeck's Zurich residence lasted less than a year (February 26, 1916-January, 1917); he was ambivalent about the foundation of Dada: on the one hand he recognized the depth of the issues which i t had raised; on the other he was suspicious of the consciousness and therefore the motives of some of the participants i n the Cabaret Voltaire and the Galerie Dada. "The Galerie Dada capriciously exhibited cubist, expression-i s t and futurist pictures; i t carried on i t s l i t t l e art business at l i t e r a r y teas, lectures and recitation evenings, while the word Dada conquered the world. I t was something touching to be-hold. Day.after day the l i t t l e group sat i n i t s cafe reading aloud the c r i t i c a l comments that poured i n from every possible country, and which by their tone of indignation showed that Dada had struck someone to the heart. Stricken dumb with amaze-ment, we basked i n our glory. Tristan Tzara could think of no-10 thing else to do but write manifesto after manifesto, speaking of 'l'art nouveau, which i s neither cubism nor futurism", but Dada. But what was Dada? 'Dada', came the answer, 'ne s i g n i f i e  rien.'With psychological astuteness, the Dadaists spoke of energy and w i l l and assured the world that they had amazing plans. But concerning the nature of these plans, no information whatever was forthcoming....As I think back on i t now, an art for art's sake mood lay over the Galerie Dada i t was a mani-cure salon of the fine arts, characterized by tea-drinking old ladies trying to revive their vanishing sexual powers with the help of 'something mad'....There might have been a way to make something of the situation. The group did nothing, and garnered success..."10 Huelsenbeck maintains that the Zurich movement never really understood i t -s e l f , and therefore, never comprehended what Dada could mean. I t took the Berlin group to do so. One can appreciate his point: Zurich was a neutral territory and a university town. Mo-one was i n direct physical danger and the manner of l i v i n g was not unbearable. The Cabaret Voltaire group was flushed with the ach-ievements of avant-garde art: Picasso and Braque's analytic cubism, the "revo-lutionary" violence and contemporaneity of futurism and the work of Marinetti, the "cause" of abstract art (Arp), and even German Expressionism, through Huel-senbeck himself.^ The proposals of "anti-art" were umbilically bound to the discoveries and methodologies of other a r t i s t s , and were directed generally ag-ainst the uncomprehending bourgeois and bourgeois-student audience. I t i s not u n t i l the movement begins to operate i n Germany that the d i a l e c t i c a l and c r i t i c -a l aspects become clearly articulated and Dada takes on a p o l i t i c a l role. In this sense Zurich Dada was a t o t a l l y a r t i s t i c revolt, a proclamation of the new arts and a declaration of their "opposition" to bourgeois culture. Zur-ich Dada, under Tzara, did not find anything to oppose i n the state of avant-garde art i t s e l f . His manifestoes 'of the time do not address themselves to this question, which i s a central concern to Huelsenbeck i n En Avant Dada. and other writings of the period i and to the conduct of the Berlin movement as a whole. 11 The Zurich group might be seen, then, as a kind of "nascent" Dada, i n wh-ich the major themes of the movement were indicated. Both Berlin and Paris dev-eloped out of the original Zurich impulse, Paris as a continuation and refine-12 ment, and Berlin as a rejection of i t . "The Dadaists of the Cabaret Voltaire actually had no idea what they wanted the wisps of 'modern art' that at some time or other had clung to the minds of these individuals were gat-hered together and called 'Dada'. Tristan Tzara was devoured by ambition to move i n international a r t i s t i c circles as an equal or even a 'leader'....And what an extraordinary, never-to-be-repeated opportunity now arose to found an a r t i s t i c movement and play the part of a l i t e r a r y mime!...None of us suspected what Dada might become, for none of us understood enough about the times to free ourselves from traditional views and form a conception of art as a moral and social phenomenon. Art just was there were a r t i s t s and bourgeois. You had to love one and hate the other. We see the rationale for Huelsenbeck•s departure from Zurich i n 1917. The Spartakus Movement, which would aid i n bringing Germany to revolution, was fou-nded i n March, 1916. Huelsenbeck came to Zurich s p e c i f i c a l l y to avoid particip-ating i n the war, about which he obviously had very strong feelings; developments i n Germany could not have escaped bis attention. He could see the looming p o l i -t i c a l c r i s i s and the attendant p o s s i b i l i t y of real revolution i n the nation he seems to have deeply despised. He made the connection between the psychological and cultural implications of Dada and concrete p o l i t i c a l conditions. "In January 1917 I returned to Germany, the face of which had meanwhile undergone a fantastic change. I f e l t as though I had l e f t a smug fat i d y l l for a street f u l l of e l e c t r i c signs, shouting hawkers and auto horns. In Zurich the in t e r -national profiteers sat i n the restaurants with w e l l - f i l l e d wallets and rosy cheeks, ate with their knives and smacked their l i p s i n a merry hurrah for the countries that were bashing each other's skulls i n . Berlin was a c i t y of tight-ened stomachers, of mounting, thundering hunger, where hid-den rage was transformed into a boundless money lust, and men's minds were concentrating more and more on questions of naked existence. Here we would have to proceed with entirely 12 different methods, i f we wantedto say something to the people. Here we would have to discard our patent leather pumps and t i e our Byronic cravates to the doorpost....The people had an exalted and romantic attitude toward art and a l l cultural va-lues. A phenomenon familiar i n German history was again mani-fested: Germany always becomes the land of poets and thinkers when i t begins to be washed up as the land of judges and but-chers."^ The pattern of cultural revolt which Huelsenbeck had learned to be so eff-ective from Zurich blended perfectly with the politically-aligned attack on Ger-man culture already i n process i n the publications of Herzfelde, Heartfield, 15 Jung and Hausmann. One of their most significant actions was the issuing and reading of the Collective Dada Manifesto 1^in February, 1918, which attacks ex-pressionism, cubism, futurism and abstract art, while endorsing "Bruitism", "simultaneity", and the "Static Poem" (which can be compared with Marinetti's "Parole i n l i b e r t a " ) . From the Zurich experience, Huelsenbeck understood the phenomenon of the  manifesto. Speaking generally, the production of manifestoes can be seen as arising out of the consciousness of the necessity to establish previously non-apparent definitions i n the face of existing definitions. That i s , the manifesto i s a tool of contextual struggle. "There i s one l i t e r a r y form i n which we can compress much of what we think and f e e l : the manifesto. Tzara had enunciated this principle as early as 1916. From the day the Cabaret Voltaire opened i t s doors, we read and wrote manifestoes. We did not only read them, we spoke them as vociferously and defiantly as we could. The manifesto as a l i t e r a r y medium answered our need for directness. We had no time to lose; we wanted to incite our opponents to resistance, and, i f necessary, to create new opponents for ourselves. We hated nothing so much as romantic s i l -ence and search for a soul: we were convinced that the soul could only show i t s e l f i n our own actions."^ I t i s important to grasp the nature of Huelsenbeck's statement and that of 13 the Collective Dada Manifesto 1918: they are intolerant• The function of the man-ifesto i s d i a l e c t i c a l ; i t attempts to antagonize i n the realm of meaning and definition, and thereby to induce a rupture i n the existing continuum of concepts, language and behaviour. Intolerance i s a virtue of the manifesto and an absolute necessity i n any attack upon an existing and maintained in t e l l e c t u a l structure. The" romantic silence" so despised by the Berliners can be connected to two th-ings: f i r s t l y , to the inward-seeking turning away from "objective" r e a l i t y ex-emplified by expressionist (and abstract) art, and secondly to a kind of " l i b -eralism", an i l l u s o r y tolerance of divergent viewpoints i n a closed system i n which overriding definitions are part of the structure of the entire situation; diverging viewpoints are seen only i n the context of unstated assumptions and 18 seen therefore a s - — i n spite of any other characteristics "deviant". On this basis the Berlin Dadaists attacked German Expressionism on the ch-arge that i t was nothing better than an attempt to blot out the outside world, which proved so abusive and depressing, and to make an impotent and socially contemptible escape into the myth of "inner r e a l i t y " . "Now came the expressionists, l i k e those famous medical quacks who promise to ' f i x everything up', looking heaven-ward l i k e the gentle Muse; they pointed to 'the ric h trea-sures of our literature', pulled the people gently by the sleeve and led them into the half-light of the Gothic cath-edrals, where the street noises die down to a distant mur-mur and, i n accordance with the old principle that a l l cats are grey at night, men without exception are fine fellows. And so expressionism, which brought the Germans so many wel-come truths, became a 'national achievement'. In art i t aim-ed at inwardness, abstraction, renunciation of a l l object-i v i t y . " 1 9 The invocation (and Huelsenbeck recognizes the deliberate nature of this) of so-called "universals", obscuring out of context the c r i t i c a l differences between things or men, i s obviously anathema to the d i a l e c t i c a l process, which 14 sees i t s e l f consciously as a divider of the continuum of r e a l i t y on the grounds that this continuum i s not a static "entity", but a process, which i s constantly changing and developing. Therefore, the crucial relationships are between the parts of this process the apparently st a t i c conditions of the world and the movement of the whole, between the form of the whole grasped by the mind, and the events which both create the whole and participate i n i t . By accepting the division between the "inner" and the "outer" worlds, between the realm of theory and that i f practice (which characterizes expressionism for the Dadaists), the external world i s accepted as i t i s . Huelsenbeck claims that such acceptance i s nothing better than cowardly resignation, an admission of weakness, lack of control, of alienation i n the sense that Marx applies the term to philosophy. The conception of the human condition as inherently painful, frustrating or" "absurd" (cf. Schopenhauer) i s the ultimate r e i f i c a t i o n , and a t o t a l l y semantic 20 problem. Expressionism i n art, for Huelsenbeck, occupies essentially the same position as philosophy s p e c i f i c a l l y German Idealist philosophy held for Marx i n the context of the material continuum of thought. Huelsenbeck, moreover, condemns the inward-seeking movement as less than an i n t e l l e c t u a l attitude toward the world, for i t does not attempt to "compre-21 hend the world", but to escape from i t . Likewise, Marx assaults the i d e a l i s t philosophy which, " l i k e German Protestant theology before i t , transforms the aims of men into s p i r i t u a l values; i t thus renounces as hopeless the task of 22 anchoring them i n material r e a l i t y . " Marx and Huelsenbeck establish parallel methods i n their various frames of reference; both attack the r e i f i c a t i o n of very material conditions of impotence and despair. Such r e i f i c a t i o n , masquerad-ing as true i n t e l l e c t u a l a c t i v i t y or as authentic art, reveals i t s e l f as the negation of that which i t purports to uphold; therefore i t i s , i n addition to 15 i t s other fau l t s , hypocritical: "On the pretext of carrying out propaganda for the soul, they have, i n their struggle with naturalism, found their way back to the abstract, pathetic gestures which presuppose a comfortable l i f e free from content or s t r i f e . The stages are f i l l i n g up with kings, poets and Faustian characters of a l l sorts; the theory of a melioristic philosophy, the psycholog-i c a l naivety of which i s highly significant for a c r i t i c a l under-standing of expressionism, runs ghostlike through the minds of men who never act....That sentimental resistance to the times, which are neither better nor worse, neither more reactionary nor more revolutionary than other times, that weak-kneed res-istance, f l i r t i n g with prayers and incense when i t does not prefer to load i t s cardboard cannon with A t t i c iambics i s the quality of a youth that never knew how to be young. Ex-pressionism, discovered abroad, and i n Germany, true to style, transformed into an opulent i d y l l and the expectation of a good pension, has nothing i n common with the efforts of active men."23 This hypocritical attitude, which forms an apology for a contradictory state of a f f a i r s , i s the attitude of the European bourgeois. The working class and the other poor, for example, could not turn away from the world, for to do so one must have resources. A poor man cannot follow the formulations of idea l -i s t culture, because to l i v e the inward l i f e one must be assured of the surviv-a l of, not sorrmuch his "mind", but of, his very physical heart, which pumps blood through his brain. Likewise, i t i s not the active bourgeois himself who leads such a l i f e , but his symbolic cultural counterpart. The philosophers and a r t i s t s who belong to the group which, i n Marx's terms, "make the perfecting of the i l l -usions of the class about i t s e l f their chief source of livelihood", carry out this charade. The a r t i s t and philosopher play the role determined for them by the society i n which they exist. In this way the context for art and'thought i s established. However, we s h a l l see how, i n the same capacity as the a r t i s t i s created by the social context, he i s c r i t i c a l of i t , or at least has the potent-i a l to be so (see pp. 37-40). This potential, when realized, led to Berlin Dada. 16 As a consequence of the awareness of the basis of the culture they were dealing with, the Berlin group moved into a d i a l e c t i c a l program which transcen-ded the existent boundaries of art. In this way they set up a critique of the avant-garde i t s e l f . In contrast to Paris Dada, the Berlin group operated from a position which included that of the a r t i s t i c avant-garde, but which understood i t as a social product, l i k e everything else, and therefore f u l l y within the area of c r i t i c i s m . Berlin Dada included avant-garde art as part of i t s t a c t i c a l methodology, but they placed no f a i t h i n i t as an effective opposition to soci-ety and "culture". They understood that i t was i n a poor position to effect a meaningful critique as long as i t took i t s e l f for granted. In Paris, the Dadaists were involved i n what Huelsenbeck analyzed as a puerile and circular a c t i v i t y of attempting to c r i t i c i z e from a position within the confines of the definition under attack. This was seen as a f a i l u r e of consciousness and i s the basis of 24 Huelsenbeck's disdain for Tzara. The Berlin Dadaists, i n attacking the avant-garde i t s e l f , attacked the en-t i r e notion of "high art"; during their period of a c t i v i t y , with very few ex-25 ceptions, the group produced mainly collage and photomontage as visual art, much of which was implemented as published material i n the several magazines 26 and bulletins brought out between 1918 and 1922. A comprehensive catalogue of the works of Hausmann, for example, does not exist; much of his work was u t i l -ized i n publications. I t i s only f a i r l y recently that the oeuvre of John Heart-f i e l d has received much attention: v i r t u a l l y a l l his work was u t i l i t a r i a n , as 27 .., propaganda. Several members we, as we have mentioned, poets and writers. This a c t i v i t y was not abandoned during the Dada episode, but i t was not given elevat-ed status above the pressure of the moment to produce manifestoes, flysheets, pamphlets and bulletins. Jung, Hehring, Einstein and Huelsenbeck continued to publish throughout the period. 17 Nevertheless, i t i s clear that i n attacking high art and the avant-garde, they were acting, so to speak, " i n the name of art"; that i s , the understanding of society and the manner i n which i t applies meaning to art rendered i t imposs-ible for these people to affirm the unlimited a c t i v i t y of the avant-garde as i t was defined. They acted i n fact as a vanguard themselves, but, as we sh a l l see, this position was confirmed, as actively c r i t i c a l only to the extent that i t was actively s e l f - c r i t i c a l . The avant-garde could function only i n a state of ex-treme tension "with i t s e l f " because of the overwhelming knowledge i t had of i t -s elf as a social process. This i s the drive of Huelsenbeck's argument against Zurich and Paris, and i t was the central preoccupation of the Berlin movement (though the conceptual level of this preoccupation varied from year to year and from person to person; for example, Grosz, Herzfelde, Jung and Heartfield were the most purely p o l i t i c a l i n their a c t i v i t i e s , Huelsenbeck very p o l i t i c a l but committed to p o l i t i c s through an a r t i s t i c consciousness, Hausmann a l i t t l e fur-ther i n the direction of a r t i s t i c revolt, Hannah Hoech further s t i l l , and Baad-er i n a sort of one-man class.) As Huelsenbeck says i n En Avant Dada, i t was necessary to form a conception of art as a moral and social phenomenon; the Berlin Dada movement should be seen as the immediate outcome of such a necessity i n 1918. Their objection to high art was not so much formal as ideological; high art, as i t existed i n Europe, had allowed i t s e l f to be introduced into the dom-inant culture, the bourgeois ideology. High art such as Picasso's had, by 1919» a place i n the bourgeois scheme, a role which precluded the po s s i b i l i t y of i t s maintaining a position actively outside that scheme. The Berlin Dadaists found that the most "advanced art" of their time had not su f f i c i e n t l y analyzed i t s position i n regard to the social meaning which i t carried, and to the origins 1 8 of that meaning. In "taking a position outside the bourgeois scheme" i t should be remembered that Berlin Dada in no way "escaped" the bourgeois world; and in no way did i t attempt to do so. As mentioned previously with reference to Rim-baud and the notion of "absolute" rejection, the extreme attitude is most tot-a l ly bound to i t s subject, but this binding i s dialect ical , i n which the c r i t -i c a l attitude attempts to indicate the negative aspect of the existent, to show what is not i n the apparent continuum of "what i s " . Certainly, a spir i t of "revolt" colours a l l advanced art of the time; Huel-senbeck and the Berlin group cr i t ic ize i t because i t has not extended the bound-aries of this revolt to include rejection of the manner of operation of the cul-tural definitions which establish the art-context. The avant-garde of the cubists and the abstract artists were content to carry out the contextual action only to the limits of the already-organized definitions of art-process, and no fur-ther. That i s , the Berlin group fel t that i f one i s involved with questioning the nature of a particular art-process, l ike painting, one is implicit ly accep-2 8 ting the wider definition of art altogether. To become involved i n a revolut-ion of painting would mean not to become involved in a more totally revolution-ary action against the entire bourgeois context of art. Huelsenbeck's endorse-ment of Bruitism, Simultaneity and the "new medium" collage-—stems from the understanding that media themselves are definitions and tend to create contexts, and that such definitions and contexts can operate strongly as1a "conservative" element, although they seem to operate on such a broad level of acceptance and such a high level of abstraction that they appear unquestionable. In this sense art media can be seen as analogous to Roland Barthes' notion of language as horizon; " . . . a language is a kind of natural ambience wholly pervading 19 the writer's expression, yet without endowing i t with form or content: i t i s , as i t were, an abstract c i r c l e of truths, out-side of which alone the solid residue of an individual logos begins to s e t t l e . I t enfolds the whole of l i t e r a r y creation much as the earth, sky and the line where they meet .outline a familiar habitat for mankind. I t i s not so much a stock of mater-i a l s as a horizon, which implies both a boundary and a perspec-tive; i n short i t i s the comforting area of an ordered space."29 Therefore, a viable revolutionary move would not involve painting i n a new manner, i f one were concerned with the definition of painting as art. To paint i n a new manner simply reinforces the existing context, giving i t the appearance of i n f i n i t e f l e x i b i l i t y . Rather, a more wide-ranging action i s necessary. Huel-senbeck saw Picasso moving toward this i n his work of 1906-19135 "The concept of re a l i t y i s a highly variable value, and entirely dependent upon the brain and the requirements of the brain that considers i t . When Picasso gave up perspec-ti v e , he f e l t that i t was a set of rules that had arbitrar-i l y thrown over "nature *: the parallels,which cross on the horizon are a deplorable deception behind them l i e s the i n f i n i t y of space that can never be measured. Consequently he restricted his painting to the foreground, he abandoned depth, freed"himself from the morality of a plastic philo-sophy, recognized the conditionality of optical laws, which governed his eye i n a particular country at a particular time; he sought a new, direct r e a l i t y he became, to use a vulgar term, nonr-objective. He wanted to paint no more men, women, donkeys and high-school students, since they partook of the whole system of deception, the theatre and the blague of existence and at the same time he f e l t that painting with o i l was a very definite symbol of a very definite c u l t -ure and morality. He invented the new medium....He well und-erstood the ideal, s l i c k , harmonious quality inherent i n perspective and i n o i l painting, and the falsehood of the , 0 'landscape' produced by the sentimentality of o i l painting." Huelsenbeck's approval of Picasso i s mainly concerned with the a r t i s t ' s growing consciousness of the frame of reference of language i n which he works, and the a b i l i t y to grasp the frame of reference as nothing more than an histor- i c a l situation, open to scrutiny i n the broadest senses. Out of such examination action necessarily takes place; i t i s clearly a revolutionary praxis Huelsenbeck 20 i s demanding. Considering Picasso's development just before and soon after this statement was made, one might feel that, i n the eyes of those holding the theo-r e t i c a l viewpoint of the Berlin group, i t would be seen as a failure to carry 31 through the very radical implications of his own work. Cubism radicalized te-chnique, and the entire language of painting; of this there i s no doubt. I t i n -tentions, however, did not extend to those areas where the work of art becomes the "work of art" i n the abstract, to the (necessarily) theoretical areas where art's function as an entity i n society becomes the subject. There i s no necess-i t y to " c r i t i c i z e " the cubists for this apparent "f a i l u r e " ; however, i t i s v a l -i d and desirable to indicate the difference between the extremity of their pos-i t i o n regarding art as art, and the extremity of the position of the Berlin gr-oup (to which only Duchamp had progressed by the same time.) In their attitude toward the avant-garde and their denial of i t s v a l i d i t y , Berlin had very much "come out against art": "The appropriation by Dada of these three principles, bruitism, simultaneity and, i n painting, the new medium, i s of course the 'accident' leading to the psychological factors to which the real Dadaist movement owed i t s exist-ence. As I have said, I find i n the Dadaism of Tzara and his friends, who made abstract art the cornerstone of their new wisdom, no new idea deserving of very serious propaganda. They f a i l e d to advance along the abstract road, which ultim-ately leads from the painted surface to the r e a l i t y of a post-office form. No sooner had they l e f t the old sentiment-a l standpoint than they looked behind them, though s t i l l spurred on by ambition....In Germany Dadaism became p o l i t i c -a l , i t drew the ultimate consequences from i t s position and renounced art entirely."32 The extremity of the position made i t necessary for them to negate the v i a -b i l i t y of the continued existence of art i n the present context through the only logic a l means available: art i t s e l f . The renunciation of art has value only i n i t s social sense. The man who privately renounces art i s seen very simply as not 21 an a r t i s t . The consequential move i s the d i a l e c t i c a l "renunciation" of the con-ditions which exist through that art which i s necessarily identifiable with th-ose conditions. Art, as art, had to register i t s resistance to the basis of the 33 organization of European society i n 1919. Because art functions on the social l e v e l , social conflicts which are necessarily i n t e l l e c t u a l conflicts are i t s a f f a i r . Art i s not seen as the force which can resolve these co n f l i c t s , but as an area i n which consciousness articulates i t s e l f . As such, i t i s the "object-34 / i f i c a t i o n of consciousness", just as, i n Marx's terms (on a different but sim-i l a r l e v e l ) , "The object of labour i s the objectification of man's (species) 35 l i f e . " Furthermore, i f , as Marx asserts, "It i s not the consciousness of men that determines their existence, but, on the contrary, their social existence determines their consciousness." then art (which i s nothing but the resolution of the productions of particular a r t i s t s ) does not choose whether or not, i n Sartre's terms, to "engage"; i t i s by definition engaged i n history. Renunc-iation of art i s a d i a l e c t i c a l move on the part of the a r t i s t faced with a con-text beyond his control. I t i s a rejection of that context, a t a c t i c a l step i n the struggle to achieve conditions under which his art can be seen (which i s tantamount to the achievement of a new a r t ) . Obviously, this i s a step i n the direction of joining the struggle for a new horizon altogether a new society. The a r t i s t whose consciousness reaches this state can no longer be satisfied with "revolutions" within particular disciplines or sub-strata, nor even with the p o s s i b i l i t y of a "cultural revolution", for he realizes that rib cultural revolution i s possible without the corresponding s o c i a l - p o l i t i c a l transformat-ion. The Berlin group used the techniques of avant-garde art because they comp-rehended their potential i n the challenge to a l l definitions. However, the group 22 could not stop there because such techniques, for a l l their " l i n g u i s t i c " radic-alism, were nevertheless categorizable as art. The challenge to the unquestion-able horizon was subsumed i n the recognition and acceptance of new art, more art. In this l i g h t i t i s interesting to see how the Berlin a r t i s t s who made co-llage s p e c i f i c a l l y Hausmann, Heartfield and Hannah Hoech, employed the medium. Although their compositions derive to a great extent from the vocabularies of cubism and futurism, as well as from expressionist art i t s e l f and contemporary Russian work, there i s common to these Dadaists a significant difference from the other schools. Unlike, for example, the collages of Picasso and Braque, the Dadaists do not attempt to "formalize" the elements. One of the most impor-tant reasons for this i s the use to which these works were put. Picasso's collages are conceived and organized as part of the program of cubist painting, as alternative solutions to i t s major problems, the modalities of depiction and the question of surface. These are formal problems wholly with-i n the scope of the definition of painting. Picasso's most concrete f l a t works maintain adherence to the canon of high art. (See, for example, Nature morte. violon et f r u i t s . 1913, Nature morte au Lacerba, 191 A, or Nature morte a, l a 39\ chaise cannee. 1912. ) In the 1913 work concentration i s typically focussed on the unity and resolution of the p i c t o r i a l organization; this impulse i s respon-sible for the distribtuion of newspaper cuttings across the picture, bringing the depiction together and asserting the surface i n e x p l i c i t contrast to the depth i l l u s i o n generated by the depiction of planes overlapping one another. The technique of combining standard drawing and painting passages with the c o l -lage elements aids as well i n integrating these new components into the normat-ive schema of the art object. Naturally, then, cubist collages took their places 23 on the gallery wall alongside the paintings. On the other hand, Dadaist works such as Heartfield's early Dada-Photomon-40 tage of 1920, or Hausmann's raucous synthetisches Cino der malerei pamphlet of 41 1918, were not intended for the gallery wall, but had a more " u t i l i t a r i a n " pur-pose. Their function was immediate and mechanical: the Berlin a r t i s t s were del-ighted with the p o s s i b i l i t i e s of creating works which seemed l i k e art, but which had a contradictory relationship to a r t i s t i c canons. The Dada collages seemed l i k e art, but contradictorily, were found i n newspapers, handbills, and the cov-ers of fly-by-night magazines, or else, they didn't seem l i k e art at a l l , i n their apparent artlessness, stylelessness and craftlessness, yet appeared i n wh-at was acknowledged to be (some breed of) art movement. The Dadaists exploited both sides of the coin, impelled by the pressure of history and the desire "to say something to the people", to break the normative codifications of viewing context. The result i s a style of impenetrable and inescapable concreteness, even i n the cases of works which were not published, such as Hausmann's ABCD of 42 1923. In contrast to the works by Picasso mentioned or, for a further example, / \43 Giacomo Balla's Dimonstrazione patriotica (1915), Hausmann v i r t u a l l y slams his material onto the sheet not without care for the composition as a whole (the organization i s superb!) but without mediating the material, as the others do. The banknotes, cut out l e t t e r s , gynaecological diagramssand original photo-graphs are not integrated to form an harmonious surface, nor are their ind i v i d -ual natures subordinated to a generalized appearance of the work (as i n Balla's collage), but rather are permitted to assert themselves, and to form a conglom-erate composition from this assertion. Picasso's chaise cannee i s tame by comp-arison, with the stunning foreign element worked i n nicely through the extension of the painted areas, and thereby admitted into the pre-existing set of regulat-ions by bending to conform to i t s outline. ABCD, Heartfield's Dada-Photomontage. 24 44 or even something as "formal" as Hausmann's GURK. 1918, which appeared in his der Dada, consist entirely of these foreign elements colliding together without the soothing influence of the painting aesthetic. One of the most compelling aspects of photomontage was this ambivalence about i t s status as art, as mentioned above. Painting aesthetics, and the corr-esponding s ty l i s t i c questions were largely invalidated by the use of standard-ized, readymade material without any manual transformation. Also, by 1919, pho-tographic media constituted the most universally available communication, direc-t ly tied to the material culture; i t was not connectedn with the art-context. 45 Unlike Hausmann, Hoech and Grosz, Heartfield disguised the materiality of his work quite soon after coming upon the photomontage medium. In the Dada period i t se l f (1917-1923) his works share in the prevailing mode of roughness, but later, when he turns his attention to specific anti-Fascist and anti-Nazi 46 propaganda, his work becomes technically complex and highly refined. Most im-portantly, Heartfield totally resisted the art-context. This was a very consci-ous choice; his work took the form of reproducible material: posters, newspaper features, handbills, etc. It seems to work only at the level of propaganda. Pro-paganda i t i s , and as propaganda i t exceeds art i n i t s comprehension of the pow-er of image and of context. In the historical situation i n which he found him-self, Heartfield realized that to use the techniques which he adopted and inven-ted for what was to be consciously "art" was a regressive step. To do so would mean that the crucial and necessary message (his content) which he was to convey would be obliterated by the acceptability of the context into'which i t 47 were placed. "The Dadaist considers i t necessary to come out against art, because he has seen through i t s fraud as a moral safety valve. Perhaps this militant attitude is a last gesture of 25 inculcated honesty, perhaps i t merely amuses the Dadaist, perhaps i t means nothing at a l l . But i n any case, art ( i n -cluding culture, s p i r i t , athletic club), regarded from a serious point of view, i s a large-scale swindle....Culture can be designated solemnly and naively as the national sp-i r i t become form, but i t can also be characterized as a compensatory phenomenon, an obeisance to an i n v i s i b l e judge, as veronal for the conscience."4° In a very real sense the Berlin group i s resisting mystification and the operation of myths. When the B r u i t i s t poem was developed, two p o s s i b i l i t i e s came into being regarding i t s use. F i r s t l y , the attitude held by the f u t u r i s t s , who really invented the mode, was thatBruitism was the expression of the nature of the immediately contemporary world, the industrialized, mechanized, e l e c t r i f i e d speeded-up society, and as such, was bound to represent this society i n i t s own language. The fut u r i s t s , by remaining within the orbit of painting and sculpture, "formalized" this language as i t was presented i n the terms of those art forms, and i n the context established by those forms. Huelsenbeck, i n the Collective Dada Manifesto, takes this aspect of Bruitism into Dada: "The BRUITIST PGEM re-presents the streetcar as i t i s , the essence of the streetcar with the yawning 49 of Schulze the conductor and the screeching of the brakes." No "distancing" i s desired. Direct, unmanipulated aspects of s t r e e t - l i f e are pressed into art, or at least pressed forward i n the context of art for c r i t i c a l consideration. No attempt i s to be made to "aestheticize" these Bights or sounds, to make them beautiful. Just as the Dadaist collages rejected inclusion i n a high art aesth-etic domain, the B r u i t i s t poem resists inclusion i n the domain of a r t i s t i c lan-guage. There i s no Muse, no mystification about the source of the sounds. On the other hand, Bruitism, as i t developed i n France,' was inflected by the entire spectrum of French poetic concerns since Rimbaud. Picasso's Demois- elles d'Avignon (1906) i s representative of this inclination: i n a single unfor-gettable image i t a l l i e s the contemporary aspects of cubism and the new medium 26 with the suggestion of a truth existing i n more primitive, non-European cultures. I t i s apparent that this trend, which i n the 1920s began to f i l l European muse-ums with the artifacts of pre-technological c i v i l i z a t i o n s from Africa, Asia and South and Central America, i s organically connected to Rimbaud's position. Eur-opean literature of the post-World War-I period, deeply conscious of i t s own alienation, made various attempts to escape a society which had apparently comm-it t e d a horrible suicide, yet which refused to die. These attempts followed the outlines set down by men such as Lautreamont or V i l l i e r s de 1'Isle-Adam, which consisted of a to t a l escape into the imagination, or else those indicated by Rimbaud. "...the period since the War has furnished....many examples of writers who have gone the way of Rimbaud without usually, however, l i k e him, getting to the point of giving up l i t e r a t -ure altogether. A l l our cult, which Wyndham Lewis has denoun-ced, of more primitive places and peoples i s really the mani-festation of an impulse similar to Rimbaud's D. H. Lawrence's mornings i n Mexico and his explorations of Santa Fe and Austral-i a ; Blaise Cendrars' negro anthology, the negro masks which bring such high prices i n Paris, Andre Gide's l i f e l o n g passion for Africa which has f i n a l l y led him to navigate the Congo, Sherwood Anderson's exhilaration at the 'dark laughter' of the ,-Q American South....all this has followed i n the wake of Rimbaud." This point i s made i n the light of the fact that the Parisian Dadaists en-dorsed Picasso's primitivism and, through their connections with the Symbolist movement, participated i n the mystification of the process of Bruitism. At the beginning of the Zurich movement, devices such as Negro music and masks, bala-51 laika music, chant-poetry and r i t u a l dancing are used to make the*effect. Huelsenbeck reports that at Zurich, "In lite r a t u r e , primitive tendencies were pursued. They read medieval prose, and Tzara ground out Negro verses which he palmed off as accidentally-discovered remains of a Bantu or Winnetu culture, 52 again to the great amazement of the Swiss." 27 The objection i s not to chant-poetry, sound-poetry, Janco's primitivizing masks and the rest; however, the use of primitive devices which are to be spec-i f i c a l l y related to a romanticized notion of the virtue and v i t a l i t y of non-European, pre-rational-technological cultures i s , I would argue, an association which removes the immediacy of the c r i t i c a l aspects of the attack upon European cultural language which these new works and techniques represent. As such, i t stands for a position no more engaged than Rimbaud's, and so offers no valid new d i a l e c t i c a l program. The process i s similar to the turning of a manifesto into poetry or abstract speculation, as we shall see Tzara does. I t i s basic-a l l y that of mystification, or, i n the more purely Marxian (via Lukacs) term, of r e i f i c a t i o n , i n which immediate and h i s t o r i c a l conditions (product of re l a t -ionships between l i v i n g men) are represented as "universals" (product of re l a t -ionships between inanimate things) beyond the scope of the particular present and the individual. Primitivism i s an example of the operation of this process: Rimbaud'3 absolute rejection of Europe gives Europe the semblance of an absol-ute. Europe becomes the absolute error, and the only solution i n this case i s to start again from the beginning, i n the manner of Rousseau. Rimbaud appeals to the myth of the noble savage, drinking his "liquor of molten metal", i n or-der to destroy the oppressive ideology created by the i n t e l l e c t u a l production of bourgeois-industrial society. But we are aware that, nevertheless, the myth invoked i s completely relevant to the h i s t o r i c a l connection because that poet, so deeply affected by history, made the connection. Rimbaud's attempt to anni-hilate Europe took the form of forcing consciousness back i n time. The poet l i t e r a l l y could so no way out (he had witnessed first-hand and participated i n the f a i l e d Socialist revolutions of 1848). To move through the present into the future seemed impossible: the present was beginning to be much too well entren-28 ehed. The attitude toward primitivism and Bruitism held by the Berlin and Paris groups i s an illuminating example of their general positions. By stringently maintaining a state of concentration upon the present, the Berlin Dadaists cou-l d arrive at the f u l l cultural value of anti-rational noise and simultaneous poetry. The character and source of this work had to be seen i n the context of the immediate environment: these savage-sounding chants and screams were not the product of a formalized, even pastorally-removed native agrarian c i v i l i z a t i o n , product of a past ideal, but the shrieks of modern Europeans, i n leather shoes and overcoats. This strictness of purpose and c l a r i t y of context works against the p o s s i b i l i t y of the impact of the work leaking away into a fascination with remote sources, and thereby creating a situation i n which any rejection of the existing culture takes place i n the name of a culture which could not be immed-ately connected with i t . Concrete conflicts are obscured i n the endorsement of highly abstract confl i c t s . Myth does battle against myth. The analysis of the Berlin movement was from the beginning aimed at the destruction of the i n t e l l e c t u a l structure of Germany, and, by extension, a l l of bourgeois Europe. They were concerned i n a sense which i s quite s t r i c t l y Marxi-an, to move through the era of myth or ideology, into a very different kind of world. This intention made i t possible for them to relinquish the desire to con-tinue to produce art above a l l else. The Marxian system of thought i s characterized as ultimately rational; the existence of myth i s seen as a particular functioning of consciousness. I t i s bound to particular economic, productive conditions, and i s open to the c r i t i c -a l destructive effects of other functions. " A l l social l i f e i s essentially practical. A l l the mysteries 29 which lead theory towards mysticism find their rational solution i n human practice and i n the comprehension of this practice."53 The power of myth i s based on the power to control definitions: applied meanings, the results of determinate acts by particular human beings, are given the character of absolute meanings. They become the abstract horizon which i s never questioned, under which a l l definitions and concepts are established and maintained. Huelsenbeck1s objection to the Zurich and Paris Dadaists includes centrally the objection that one cannot combat mystification, particularly i n industrialized class society, through the production of counter-myths. An inte-gral part of the Marxian program i s the exposure of the process of my s t i f i c a t i -on as an incomplete and unfree state of thought, i n which language i s not used to communicate, but to obscure thought, i n which communication i s the communic-ation of strictly-controlled ideas and meanings, (see pp. 69-72) To be c r i t i c a l i s to be aware of process; the man of c r i t i c a l , sceptical nature i s the one v/ho understands the procedure of producing meaning. "In an a r t i c l e on expressionsim Kornfield makes the dis-tinction between the ethical man and the psychological man. The ethical man has the c h i l d - l i k e piety and f a i t h which per-.mit him to kneel at some alta r and recognize some God, who has the power to lead men from their misery to some paradise. The psychological.man has journeyed vainly through the i n f i n -i t e , has recognized the l i m i t s of his s p i r i t u a l p o s s i b i l i t i e s , he knows that every 'system' i s a seduction with a l l the con-sequences of seduction and every God an opportunity for f i n -anciers . The Dadaist,as the psychological man, has brought back his gaze from the distance and considers i t important to have shoes that f i t and a suit without holes i n i t . The Dadadst i s an atheist by instinct. He i s no longer a metaphysician i n the sense of finding a rule for the conduct of l i f e i n any theoretical principles, for him there i s no longer a 'thou shalt'....Consequently, the good is....no 'better' than the bad there i s only a imultaneity, i n values as i n everything else. This simultaneity applied to the economy of facts i s communism, a communism, to be sure, which has abandoned the 30 principle of 'making things better*, and above a l l sees i t s goal i n the destruction of everything that has gone bourgeois." This attitude, for a l l i t s ideological peculiarities, annihilates "belief"; there can be no belief i n art, just as there can be none i n myth or r e l i g i o n , because, as we s h a l l see, the action indicated by the verb "to believe" i s i n -validated by a new condition of thought. This new condition of thought brings  art into existence i n the moment i t destroys the mystification of art, the mom-ent art as mystification ends. A myth or an ideology does not cease to exist once i t i s revealed as an h i s t o r i c a l product. What occurs at this point i s a d i a l e c t i c a l event, i n which the alienated product of thought i s brought back into direct relationsip with the process which created i t . The existence of the product i s never denied, but i t s independent status outside the range of human-ly-created phenomena i s destroyed, and the product i s understood end examined i n i t s new status as resume of a mental procedure. In terms of art, the analogy i s very clear: Duchamp did not k i l l art, he gave bi r t h to i t as a self-consc-iously h i s t o r i c a l a c t i v i t y , "at the service of the mind." Duchamp understood the necessity for an explosion i n context; the alternative was to see art as a process die. The notion of the independent existence of "Art" the residue of bourgeois-idealism i s destroyed. Marx makes a similar point i n discussion of rel i g i o n : "Since, however, for s o c i a l i s t man the whole of what i s  called world history i s nothing but the creation of man by human labour, and the emergence of Nature for man, he there-fore has the evident and irrefutable proof of his self-crea- tion, of his own origins. Once the essence of man and of Nature, man as a natural being and Nature as a human r e a l i t y , has become evident i n practical l i f e , i n sense experience, the search for an alien being, a being outside man and Hature (a search which i s the avowal of the unreality of man and Nat-ure) becomes impossible i n practice. Atheism, as a denial of this unreality, i s no longer meaningful, for atheism i s a 31 denial of God, and seeks to assert by this denial the existence of man. Socialism no longer requires such a roundabout method; i t begins from the theoretical and  practical sense perception of man and Nature as real existences. It is a positive human self-consciousness, no longer a self-consciousness attained through the negation of religion, just as the real life of man is positive and no longer attained through the negation of private property (communism)."55 In the same sense does art remain after its apparent "negation" in the work of Duchamp and the Berlin Dadaists. It is realized as a determinate mental product. Therefore, i t is controlled, by the mind and the context and never att-ains an independent existence, never generates idols. Art realizes itself as a phenomenon of consciousness in history, even at tis most abstract, even when i t is concerned only with mountains, deserts, glaciers and oceans. "Art", for Huel-senbeck or Duchamp, really does not exist. What does exist is a certain kind of art process. In a very similar way does society exist, not as an abstract "Soc-iety" which stands apart from the individuals who compose i t , but instead as the resolution of their interactions. "The fact is, therefore, that determinate individuals, who are productively active in a definite way, enter into these determinate social and political relations. Empiric-al observation must, in each particular case, show empir-ically, and without any mystification or speculation, the connection of the social and political structure with pro-duction. The social structure and the State are continual-ly evolving out of the life-process of determinate indiv-iduals, of individuals not as they appear in their own or other people's imagination, but as they really are: i.e. as they act, produce their material life, and are occupied within determinate material limits, presuppositions and conditions, which are beyond their will. "5° The rejection of the mythmaking activity (and that of counter-mythmaking) by the Berlin Dadaists is a measure of their sophistication in handling the no-tion of context. In 1935 Andre Breton was to characterize Surrealism as a "met-32 57 hod of creating a collective myth"; i t i s this approach which generates the conceptual tensions of Surrealism, and which made i t impossible for a workable alliance to be formed between that group and purely p o l i t i c a l a c t i v i s t s . P o l i t -i c a l action, i n the Marxist sense, i s irrevocably aligned with the destruction of mystification, i n a world i n which the collective has been completely o b l i t -erated. The existence of anti-mythical thought i s that of the c r i t i c a l nature of consciousness. The now-destroyed myth i s not ignored, but instead becomes an a r t i f a c t , and, at the same time, a symbol of the subversive nature of consciou-sness i n history. In the same way, the art which Duchamp and the Berlin Dadaists destroyed did not cease to exist. In fact, i t s existence retains importance, but i n a transformed manner, i n that i t i s now placed i n a comparative context, one i n which the processes which produced i t can be c r i t i c a l l y revealed. Duch-amp' s Fountain or Bottle Rack are anti-icons, shot through with the subversive knowledge of what goes into making an icon. This i s the source of the scepticism and the irony. I t might be argued that, similar to the sense i n which there i s much i n Duchamp's work hostile to art as i t existed before him, there i s something i n Marx's thought deeply antithetical to poetry, to the so-called " a r t i s t i c impul-se". I f there i s anything, i t i s the opposition to r e i f i c a t i o n . The destruction of r e i f i c a t i o n however, as we shall see, makes poetry possible; the a r t i s t i c impulse becomes supremely s e l f - and historically-conscious. The myth, the poem, 58 the art work are seen as natural productions, clearly i n the realm of the pra-c t i c a l and the material. I t i s seen to have a history: the history of men. "The phantoms of the human brain are necessary sublimates of men's material life-processes, which can be empirically estab-lished and which are bound to material preconditions. Morality, 33 religion, metaphysics and other ideologies, and their corres-ponding forms of consciousness, no longer therefore retain their appearance of autonomous existence. They have no h i s t -ory, no development; i t i s men, who, i n developing their mater-i a l production and their material intercourse, change, along with their real existence, their thinking and the products of of their thinking. L i f e i s not determined by consciousness, but consciousness by l i f e . Those who adopt the f i r s t method begin with consciousness regarded as the l i v i n g individual; those who adopt the second, which crresponds with real l i f e , begin with the real l i v i n g individuals themselves, and con-sider consciousness only as their consciousness. Likewise, art consciousness i s only the consciousness of the man making art, and this i s seen as the content of art. Thus, the importance of Duchamp's Headymades, as context becomes content. The work of art has no existence except as a conscious h i s t o r i c a l act. It does not necessarily partake i n the myth of the beautiful object nor of that of the message from the beyond. Its relation-ship with i n f i n i t y i s i r o n i c , i t s relationship to i t s own importance skeptical. Like Duchamp, Huelsenbeck i s the consummate skeptic. "Skepticism" i s a term used to denote process-awareness, which i s h i s t o r i -c a l , c r i t i c a l awareness. This skepticism i s very sensitive to definitions, and to frames of reference to systems. The Berlin Dadaists' c r i t i c a l focus on the avant-garde i s a result of such thinking. With this i n mind, l e t us return to the discussion of the manifesto, with . the object of arriving at a definition of i t i n relationship to the work of art, i.e . , to see i t s difference from a work of art. As stated above (p. 12), the function of the manifesto i s to antagonize i n the domain of definitions. Its primary and authentic role i s contextual. This implies a situation of struggle and c o n f l i c t , not development according to a pre-organized pattern of formal relationships that i s , the manifesto emerges as a polemical tool only i n a d i a l e c t i c a l situation of c o n f l i c t . ^ 34 Such a situation i s synthetic: that i s , i t i s the product of particular h i s t o r i c a l acts definitions. In this struggle, everything i s dynamic, and de-pends for i t s intensity upon the determined opposition of fully-delineated com-ponents. In terms of the d i a l e c t i c , the more fully-developed the conflicting components are, the more deep and acute the encounter w i l l be, and the more fu-l l y resolved w i l l be the synthesis or resolution.^ 1 The arena of this c o n f l i c t -— i n this case, between existing art-definitions and emerging a r t - d e f i n i t i o n s — -brings the manifesto as a phenomenon of art, into existence. The effectiveness of the manifesto i s absolutely related to a particular context, a particular struggle. Beyond these concerns, i t has no interest. The manifesto, l i k e any factor within a struggle, i s less interested i n the f i e l d of conflict as a f i e l d , than i t i s i n forging the necessary resolution of the situation. The battle-ground i s engaged at a l l only to move past i t . The manifesto i s t o t a l l y a means, just as i n the t r i a d i c d i a l e c t i c a l reading, the thesis and antithesis can be seen as means to synthesis. As a means, the manifesto i s fundamentally different from a work of art. The work of art indeed carries a c r i t i c a l function, which necessitates that i t , too, antagonize i n the realm of meaning, but simultaneously i t also includes other functions at other levels, whose role appears more neutral because of the higher level of abstraction. The work of art as a work of art can reconcile opp-osites, which, on the immediate contextual le v e l , cannot be reconciled; this occurs because the work takes the abovementioned " f i e l d of co n f l i c t " as i t s subject-matter. Thus the work i s simultaneously transparent and opaque, i s look-ed at, as a product, and looked through, as an indicator of method. As Robert Morris suggests, one does not look at a new formal-methodological a r t i s t i c dev-62 eolment, but through i t , using i t to see the world. Therefore, I would sugg-35 est that there are possible but not necessary, as Duchamp demonstrated inter-nal relations within the work of art which operate on a level at which immediat-ely opposed factors are not significant as opposites, but rather as simple asp-ects i n a meridian of p o s s i b i l i t i e s . In works of art such as these, content i s distinguishably different from context, i n that i t i s s t i l l possible to d i s -tinguish the specific content of a work of art (for example, the concern with " i r r a t i o n a l " image-combinations i n Max Ernst's collages, or the relationship between object-shape and depicted image i n Frank Stella's work) from the level at which the work, as a raw f a c t — — a s an abstraction simply i s . This " i s " i s no metaphysical i s , but rather refers to the minimum standards necessary for the recognition of the particular art work as an art work. That this l a t t e r concern i s a broader and more general one than that of specific content i s demonstrated by the fact the specific content can be obliterated by the mere fact of art-ex-istence, by the intensity of relationship to context, to i t s e l f as art. "Art stands against history, withstands''ihistory which has been the history of oppression, for art subjects r e a l i t y to laws other than the established ones: to the laws of the Form which creates a different r e a l i t y negation of the established one even where art depicts the established re-a l i t y . But i n i t s struggle with history, art subjects i t -s elf to history: history enters the definition of art and enters into the distinction between art and pseudo-^art. Thus i t happens that what was once art becomes pseudo-art. Previous forms, styles, and qualities, previous modes of protest and refusal cannot be recaptured i n or against a different society. There are cases where an authentic oeuvre carries a regressive p o l i t i c a l message Dostoevski i s a case i n point. But then the message i s cancelled by the oeuvre i t s e l f , aufgehoben i n the a r t i s t i c form: i n the work as literature."°4 I t i s when, by a specific i n t e l l e c t u a l process, the work of art can become an abstraction of i t s e l f that the contextual-critical question becomes meaning-f u l . At this point we deliberately put aside questions of "appreciation" and so o n 36 on, and focus attention upon the work as a representative, i n a manner of spea-king, of the category "work of art", a construct of definitions, a result of 65 the "metaphoric" nature of mental a c t i v i t y . At this point, what art i s i s the 66 "art condition"; the art process i s seen as a limited system i n a particular context. "Works of art are analytic propositions. That i s , i f viewed within th-e i r context—as art—they provide no information what-so-ever about any matter of fact. A work of art i s a tautology i n that i t i s the presentation of the ar-t i s t ' s intention, that i s , he i s saying that that particular work of art i s art, which means, i s a definition of art. Thus, that i t i s art i s true a p r i o r i (which i s what Judd means when he states that ' i f someone c a l l s i t art, i t ' s 67 a r t ' ) . " We must realize, however, that such a reading depends upon, as i s ad-mitted by the invocation of an a p r i o r i , the existence of an h i s t o r i c a l l y est-ablished and agreed-upon context. The art work i n this abstract state (exempli-fied by the Bottle Rack or a work by Kosuth) exists as the result of nothing more than the recognition of the presence of context, which i t s e l f i s necessar-i l y seen as the resume of the metaphorical, analogical and material process of thought and meaning-application. Therefore, within the art-context (now a spec-i f i c a l l y , technically delimited zone of a c t i v i t y ) , the work of art needs do no 68 more than simply exist ( i t does not even have to be present ), that i s , f u l f i l a l l d efinitional requirements, cause no l i n g u i s t i c contradictions. Duchamp pro-ved Marx's statement that art i s necessarily a social phenomenon. In an i n t e l l -ectually organized society (and society i s by definition an i n t e l l e c t u a l organ-ization), a l l that needs to exist i s a context, a definition, a ground of prec-edent and discourse. With this, the p o s s i b i l i t i e s for the definition are l i m i t -less, but only through the movement of context i t s e l f , which i s a specific pro-cedure (see pp . 8 f - 8 Z ) . 37 However, i t i s imperative to recognize that the context i t s e l f i s a deter-minate h i s t o r i c a l product, an not an unquestionable a p r i o r i . Whenever limits are drawn around a situation or an a c t i v i t y , the most important area becomes the edge, the interfeace where that which i s within the l i m i t interfaces with or confronts that which i s not. In opposition to the position held by Kosuth, I would argue that the existence of art i n this contextual state depends ultimat-ely upon the c r i t i c a l recognition at every moment of the h i s t o r i c a l nature of the context i t s e l f . In the d i a l e c t i c a l arena, nothing can exist independent-l y . That which i s A i s simply, by the fact of i t s being, something not only ot- her than B, but opposed to B, antagonistic to B, c r i t i c a l of B. Each bounded defined being i s not only passively i t s e l f , but i t i s actively hot that which i t i s n o t . ^ Therefore, Duchamp, i n the creation of the f i r s t unassisted Readymades, attacked ostensibly an established context (in part, the "morphological"); but as well, with this move he set up a continuous critique of the notion of cont-ext i t s e l f . He established a new a r t i s t i c methodology, similar to that of Berl-i n Dada, which related to the conscious art-context i n a new way: by treating i t as sub.iect-matter. In the same way i n which myth attains a"new identity when i t s mystifying, magical powers are understood and thereby destroyed, context, which i n the definition of Kosuth has similar powers, i s transformed. Like the myth, and indeed as a subverted myth, i t takes on the character of a self-con-scious process result, as does the art-object or situation created within i t . As Kosuth suggests, each art work, by presenting i t s e l f as the "definition" (or a definition) has the potential to change the definition of art. However, such changes do not take place solely within the pre-established context; simultan-eously with the following of p o s s i b i l i t i e s within the context and the redefining 38 of configurations within the definition, each such change-act i n fact reverber-ates upon the context i t s e l f as an entirety, as a notion, as a concept. "...the propositions of art are not factual, but l i n g u i s t i c i n character—that i s , they do no describe the behaviour of physical, or even mental objects; they express definitions of art, or the formal consequences of definitions of art. Accordingly, we can say that art operates on a logic. For we shall see that the characteristic mark of a purely lo g i c a l enquiry i s that i t i s concerned with the formal consequences of our definitions (of art) and not with questions of empir-i c a l f a c t . " ? 0 While this suggestion i s acceptable as far as i t goes, I would suggest that i t does not go far enough. While the specific content of "logic" as a pro-cess i s not under question, the process as & process. i n a certain sense as a "game" of thought, needs to be comprehended i n the light of man i n history. To i n s i s t upon this i s not to relegate apparent universals to the status of condi-tioned reflex; far from i t . Rather, to i n s i s t such i s to point out the inescap-able connection of thought with "empirical fact". Again, this does not deny the existence of thought-process which are not apparently concerned with particular issues of empirical fact. However, i t makes e x p l i c i t l y conscious that the proc-ess i n question actively separates i t s e l f from questions of an empirical nature, and that this separation must be seen as conscious and deliberate and therefore part of the procedure i t s e l f . That i s , the differentiation between analytic and 71 synthetic propositions i s i t s e l f a synthetic proposition. Context i t s e l f i s no a p r i o r i condition, but i s much a product of determinate h i s t o r i c a l acts as are the works and definitions which operate within i t . Like any language, how-ever, context acts as the "unquestioned horizon" i n which particular acts seem naturally immersed. And we have understood (Marshall McLuhan) that i t i s the most immediate and pervasive environment which i s most d i f f i c u l t to objectivize and perceive c r i t i c a l l y . 39 To bring the discussion back immediately to the manifesto, we should note that, unlike the work of art, there i s nothing i n the manifesto which can be separated from the immediacy of direct contextual concerns. Where the art work can exist i n a more highly abstracted state and therefore participate to a cer-tain extent i n a wider, more general context, the manifesto i s a l l d i a l e c t i c . a l l specific content. The manifesto not only does not participate i n the "art condition", i t i s antithetical to i t . I t i s correct to claim that the manifesto succeeds to the extent that i t does not exist as art, to the extent to which i t repudiates the p o s s i b i l i t y of existing as art. As art, art present necessarily no thesis, no argument; instead i t remains " i t s e l f " , within the context, and any polemical aspect the work might have emanates from this state. No matter how logica l and rationalized the work might be (for example the "sculpture" of Judd), i t does not reach i t s l i m i t of a c t i v i t y i n the problem-solving practice. As Du-champ said, "There i s no solution because there i s no problem". I t i s i n this l i g h t that we understand the role-changing capacity of art works, their l i f e and death?, and their l i f e after death, as "history". The l i f e of the manifesto i s , contrarily, a l l c o n f l i c t , a l l problem, a l l solution. I t i s only when the authors of a manifesto realized this to i t s ut-most that their product takes on f u l l value and i s most successful. I t i s again-st this background that the manifestoes of Huelsenbeck and Tzara should be com-pared; a comparison of the manifestoes leads us a s surely to this t r a i n of th-ought as this train of thought leads to the consideration of their manifestoes. While the German Dadaists made i t their objective to r i p apart.what they saw as a repressive culture ("Instinctively he (the Dadaist) sees his mission 72 i n smashing the cultural ideology of the Germans." ), the Parisian group, ben-eath the horizon of the notion of the avant-garde, understood their assault as 40 issuing from that avant-garde position. Tzara's a c t i v i t i e s i n Zurich as well as i n Paris are sufficient evidence of this ; they are aimed at so l i d i f y i n g the av-ant-garde out of which any cr i t i c i s m , carried out i n the name of art, would be achieved. The nature of their own position as such was not an object of c r i t i c -ism, i t was rather the standard of measurement. Consequently c r i t i c i s m of other movements or branches was carried out withimhthe framework of an unquestioned context^ i n a sense Tzara's notions of the relationship of advanced art to so-ciety create a mystification of the avant-garde i t s e l f . In no manner do the Pa-ri s i a n Dadaists or their Zurich predecessors renounce art; their motivation i s continually to affirm i t i n the most absolute sense. This attitude, and i t s Fr-ench poetic a f f i n i t i e s , i s revealed by Tzara i n his famous Dada Manifesto 1918; "Art i s a private a f f a i r , the a r t i s t produces i t for him-self; an i n t e l l i g i b l e work i s the product of a journalist, and because at this moment i t strikes my fancy to combine this monstrosity with o i l paints: a paper tube simulating the metal that i s automatically pressed and poured hatred cowardice v i l l a i n ^ . The a r t i s t the poet rejoice at the venom of the masses condensed into a section chief of this industry, he i s happy to be insulted: i t i s a proof of his immutability. When a writer or a r t i s t i s praised by the newspapers, i t i s proof of the i n t e l l i g i b i l i t y of his work: wretched linings of a coat for public use; tatters cover-ing brutality, piss contributing to the warmth of an ani-mal brooding v i l e instincts."?4 Art exists for Tzara i n what we have seen Huelsenbeck characterize as a "traditional view", a view which had to be destroyed i n order to form a new con-75 ception of "art as moral and social phenomenon." Note that Tzara i s not asser-ting s p e c i f i c a l l y that art's language i s opposed to the social r e a l i t y for con-crete reasons, and that these reasons are beyond the control of a r t i s t s just as they are beyond the control of the bourgeois and the masses. To do so would be to recognize that the a r t i s t i s no super-human creature, aloof from the materi-41 a l and i n t e l l e c t u a l d i f f i c u l t i e s of those social groups, but instead that, i n being active i n an inherently social enterprise, he i s as much a victim of c u l -ture as they are. To accept this would mean ultimately to envisage a different situation, and therefore a very different definition of art and the a r t i s t . Thus Tzare's manifestoes are documents of a no-revolt, one i n which no so-lution i s offered, and no discussion i s generated beyond that of the absolute affirmation of the " a r t i s t " (which obviously means the a r t i s t as he exists) ab-solutely against the bourgeois and the working class. "I write a manifesto and I want nothing, yet I say certain things, and i n principle I am against manifest-oes, as I am also against principles (half-pints to measure the moral value of every phrase too too conven-ient; approximation was invented by the impressionists). I write this manifesto to show that people can perform contradictory actions together while taking one fresh gulp of a i r ; I am against reaction; for continuous con-tradiction, for affirmation too, I am neither for nor against and I do not explain because I hate common sen-se."? 6 Huelsenbeck sees Tzara's position simply as the result of a lack of con-sciousness or development. In Tzara's writing there i s no conscious move away from an authentic c r i t i c a l position; rather, the whole of his a c t i v i t y was org-anized without the t o t a l conceptual grasp of the situation. Tzara's Zurich car-eer operated, i t seems, on a c e l l u l a r , instinctive l e v e l , i n which formulated c r i t i c a l and s e l f - c r i t i c a l concepts did not arise. As Huelsenbeck says, "Trist-an Tzara had been one of the f i r s t to grasp the suggestive power of the word Dada. From here on he worked indefatiguably as the prophet of a word, which on-77 l y l a t e r was to be f i l l e d with-a concept." In this context, Tzara's "DADA NE SIGNIFIE RIEN" (1918) takes on a particular h i s t o r i c a l meaning for us. This d i f f i c u l t y i s apparent throughout the manifestoes written by Tzara. 42 While never e x p l i c i t l y a n t i - d i a l e c t i c a l , they never attain an authentic c r i t i c -a l position because they never take up a true c r i t i c a l method. The Dada Manife- sto 1918 or the Manifesto on feeble and b i t t e r love of 1920 are cases i n point: their focus i s diffuse, they direct themselves to question whose range makes i t possible for them only to be mentioned i n passing: "A manifesto i s a communication addressed to the whole world, i n which there i s no other pretension than the discovery of a means of curing instantly p o l i t i c a l , astro-nomical, a r t i s t i c , parliamentary, agronomic, and l i t e r a r y syphlis. I t can be gentle, good natured, i t i s always right, i t i s strong vigorous and l o g i c a l . " 7 ^ In addition to this, Tzara uses overtly "poetic" language, language whose comp-le x i t y and irregularity, imagery and conceit, prevents the manifestoes from be-ing clearly and directly comprehended. "I have given a pretty f a i t h f u l version of progress, law, morality and a l l other fine qualities that various highly intelligent men have discussed i n so many books, only to conclude after a l l that everyone dances to his own personal boomboom, and that the writer i s entitled to his boomboom: the satisfaction of pathological curiosity; a private b e l l for inexplicable needs; pecuniary d i f f i c u l t i e s ; a stomach with repercussions i n l i f e ; the authority of the mystic wand formulated as the bouquet of a phantom orchestra made up of silent fiddle bows greased with philtres made of chicken man-ure. "79 Tzara's manifestoes i n fact tend toward that which i s the very antithesis of the manifesto: poetry. I t i s f a i r to say that Tzara's intentions had been directly poetic from the beginning of the Zurich a f f a i r , as had been those of the rest of the Cabar-et Voltaire g r o u p — B a l l , Janco, Huelsenbeck, Hennings, Arp. The f i r s t issue of Cabaret Voltaire, the f i r s t Dada publication, included Apollinaire, Picasso, 43 Modigliani, Kandinsky, Marinetti and Cendrars as well as the Cabaret group them-selves. Huelsenbeck's disillusionment with Zurich and the Cabaret Voltaire seems to stem from their overriding belief i n art and poetry: he sees this as a naiv-ety, a lack of skepticism i n the sense used above. Huelsenbeck knew that to be-lieve i n art this way was to accept a r e i f i e d context. In an interview of May, 1950, Tzara states: "II s'agissait de fournir l a preuve que l a poesie etait une force vivante sous tous les aspects, meme antipoetiques, 1' ecriture n'en etant qu'un vehicule occasionnel, nullement indispensable, et l'expression de cette spontaneite que faute d'un q u a l i f i c a t i f approprie, nous appelions dadaistes."^ In a situation where art i s i n question i n i t s contextual sense, "belief" i s of l i t t l e importance, for belief i n s i s t s upon the unconditional character of i t s object. The "conservative" characteristics of this argument are, I hope, evident. Something i s conceived as absolute, unconditionally necessary, etc., i n a particular frame of reference. I t i s , h i s t o r i c a l l y , not separable from that frame: to i n s i s t that i t exist unconditionally i s to do one of two things: either to i n s i s t i m p l i c i t l y that the context, irrespective of i t s nature, be retained without question, or else to be ignorant of the function of context i n the process of thought. Either way, what emerges i n practice i s at least the p o s s i b i l i t y of an excuse to reatin, more or less consciously, the'existing sta-te of a f f a i r s . Tzara's belief i n poetry i s then, naturally enough, a belief i n a certain poetry, which implies a particular contextual f i e l d . Tzara's thinking i n 1919 was strongly influenced, as mentionedjby French poetic ideas, from the sense of absolute revolt engendered by Rimbaud, to the notion of " d i f f i c u l t y " and aestheticism, which i s part of the program of the Symbolist movement and related activites (cf. Mallarme). This influence shapes 44 his manifestoes down to the details. After the Dada Manifesto 1918, which was his second work (the more poetically structured Manifesto of M. Antipyrene was 81 presented at Waag Ha l l , Zurich, July 14, 1916 ), the writings take on a more overtly "poetic" structure and syntax. XI Dada i s a dog—a compass—the abdominal clay—neither new nor a Japanese nude—a gas meter of sentiments rolled into pellets —Dada i s brutal and puts out no propaganda—Dada i s a quantity of l i f e undergoing a transparent transformation both effortless and giratory XII ladies and gentlemen buy come i n and buy and do not read you w i l l see the man who holds i n his hands the keys of niagara the man who limps i n a blimp with the hemisphere i n a suitcase and his nose shut up i n a Japanese lantern and you w i l l see you w i l l see you w i l l see the stomach dance i n the massachusetts saloon the man who drives i n a n a i l and the t i r e goes f l a t the s i l k stockings of miss atlantis the trunk that navigates the globe 6 times to reach the addressee monsieur and his fiancee and his sister-in-law you w i l l find the address of the carpenter the frog-watch the nerve shaped l i k e a paper-cutter you w i l l learn the address of the minor pin for the feminine sex and the address of the man who furnishes the king of greece with f i l t h y photo-graphs and address of action francaise. XIII Dada i s a v i r g i n microbe Dada i s against the high cost of l i v i n g Dada a joint stock company for the exploitation of ideas Dada has 391 different attitudes and colors depending on the sex of the chairman I t transforms i t s e l f affirms simultaneously says the opposite i t doesn't matter screams goes fishing. Dada i s the chameleon of rapid, interested change Dada i s against the future. Dada i s dead. Dada i s i d i o t i c . Hurrah for Dada. Dada i s not a l i t e r a r y schbol roar Tristan TZAEA82 This outlook takes over completely by 1918; the three later manifestoes can 45 be seen to be completely i n this category, which i s not c r i t i c a l and which though some may disagree only approximates poetry: "Hypertrophic painters hyperaes-theticized and hypnotized by the hyacinths of the hypocritical-looking muezzins."83 The examination can be closed with the reproduction of one of Tzara's poems from the 1916 collection, Vingt-cinq Poemes, published at the time of the Caba-84 ret Voltaire. CINEMA. CALENDRIER DU COEUR ABSTRAIT MAISONS 2 avec tes doigts crispes s'allongeant et chancelants comme les yeux l a flamme appelle pour serre es-tu l a sous l a couverture les magasins crachent les employes midi l a rue les emporte les sonnettes des trams coupent l a phrase forte 3 vent desir cave sonore d'insomnie tempete temple l a chute des eaux at l a saute brusque des voyelles dans les regards qui fixent les points des abimes a venir a surpasser vecus a concevoir appellent les corps humains legers comme les allumettes dans tous les incendies de l'automne des vibrations et des arbres sueur de petrole 21 le foot-ball dans l e poumon casse les vitres (insomnie) dans le puits on f a i t b o u i l l i r les nains pour les vin et l a f o l i e picabia arp ribemont-dessaignes bonjour I t i s not necessary to press the point; i n comparison to contemporaneous 46 works, such as Huelsenbeck's Collective Manifesto, or i n recent and well-known pieces l i k e Marinetti's hist o r i c F i r s t Futurist Manifesto of 1909, and the con-tinuing series of manifestoes from the pens of Marinetti and the group of Futur-i s t painters (Severini, Russolo, Boccioni, Balla, Carra, etc .)t i t i s plain to see that the l i t e r a r y element i s dominant with Tzara. In being so, i t removes 85 his manifestoes from any corpus of c r i t i c a l a c t i v i t y . One may maintain i n the face of this that Tzara's method is, c r i t i c a l , and acceptably so, i n that i t i s the kind of " d i a l e c t i c a l " or "didactic" theatre mentioned ear l i e r when the works are read or performed, and possibly a similar genre of poetry when published. No separation i s permitted between the a r t i s t i c and c r i t i c a l functions of the work. However, i t should be seen that this objec-tion has already been answered, i t being an argument, essentially, for art, wh-ose c r i t i c a l function operates at at different l e v e l . Dialectical or didactic theatre i s , as with Brecht for example, an art form and nothing else. I t i s not cr i t i c i s m . The specific content might have, as i t has i n Brecht, a c r i t i c a l or social message even an exhortation and a threat as for example, i n the work of Genet or i n "Living Theatre" concepts but this function i s distinct from the c r i t i c a l function of art as art as discussed above (pp. 36-39). This c r i t i c a l a c t i v i t y i s carried out on a different level that of "art i n the abstract" so 86 to speak art (consciously and deliberately) i n context. The primarily l i t e r a r y preoccupations of the Parisian Dada group precluded the establishment u n t i l the organization of the conceptual basis for Surreal-ism i n 1925 and 1926 of a reasonable and effective position regarding the pr-oblem of art-context. Its ideological bases i t s "undefined assumptions" were those of the European avant-garde as i t developed s p e c i f i c a l l y i n French liter a t u r e , whose rebellions, no matter how copious, must be seen as essentially 47 bourgeois. The break with bourgeois cultural dicta was not effected with any sy-stematic, intellectual mediation until the fundamental engagement with Marxist thinking was created principally by Naville, Breton, Eluard, Soupault and Ara-gon around 1925. In this sense, the Parisian Dada movement can be characteri-zed as a "bourgeois" phenomenon in that, by resisting bourgeois society essent-i a l l y from within one of it s most prized definitions, they were doomed to social acceptance through the structure of already-created contexts which controlled the implications of their revolt. Their position created social antagonisms, to be sure, but these were produced within mangeable limits for the social organi-ation as a whole. The realization by the Berlin Dadaists of the bourgeois essence of avant-garde activity necessitated, as we have seen, the "cessation of art". But i t is cr i t i c a l to understand that this cessation could not really take place; that i s , the Berlin Dadaists could not just do nothing. It was imperative to use art ag-ainst art, to continue to make art, but only in order to exacerbate the conflict, to focus on the contradictions involved. This i s particularly cogent to the ext-ent that Marxist ideas were involved in the position of Dada in Berlin. The Marxist attitude toward art demands that i t be made in total lucidity, in f u l l possession of the awareness of putting oneself directly onto the horns of a d i -lemma, a contradiction. Marx analyzed bourgeois society and found i t to be the product of contradiction. The art as well is contradictory, even paradoxical, and the denial of art is necessarily "contradictory" as well in that i t had to be made by art, by the artist's activity in the realm of established art-defin-itions. The "art" produced by the Berlin Dadaists was produced, then, in a s i t -uation of great dialectical tension, truly at the breaking point. Art was seen as a social "product" and, insofar as i t was unconscious of this and the contra-48 dictions produced by th i s , i t was repudiated. "Dada i s German Bolshevism. The bourgeois must be deprived of the opportunity to 'buy up art for his j u s t i f i c a -t i o n 1 . Art should altogether get a sound thrashing, and Dada stands for this thrashing with a l l the vehemence of i t s limited nature." Unlike the Parisians, the Berliners held out no hope that art could be the "solution"; their understanding of i t s origins ruled this out. Art, for them, was not something to be believed i n ; i t was something to work with. The import- ance of art lay i n the contextual assumptions made by the bourgeois audience. The attack upon context was the attack upon art and, by obvious implication, up-on the context-generating and maintaining cultural ideology. Unlike the attack on culture made by Rimbaud, that of Berlin Dada was medi-ated and rationalized; they understood that tot a l rejection i n such terms was out of the question. These a r t i s t s , l i k e the French, were to t a l l y committed to art, but they had sufficient i n t e l l e c t u a l comprehension to observe the function-ing of art i n i t s necessary frame of reference. Any rejection was seen as aocont-extual, and therefore a d i a l e c t i c a l , a f f a i r , i n which development had to be achieved through direct confrontation with existent conditions. A truly revolu-tionary rupture could only be achieve through t o t a l engagement with conditions as they existed. As Sartre has said, " I t i s always true of course, that to fight something one must change oneself into i t ; i n other words one must become i t s 88 true opposite and not merely other than i t . " "Instinctively he (the Dadaist) sees his mission i n smash- ing the cultural ideology of the Germans. I have no desire to j u s t i f y the Dadaist. He acts instinctively, just as a man might say he was a thief out of 'passion', or a stamp-collector by preference. The 'ideal' has shifted: the abs-tract a r t i s t has become....a wicked materialist with the abstruse characteristics of considering the care of his stomach and stock jobbing more honorable than philosophy. 'But that's nothing new', those people w i l l shout who nev-er tear themselves away from the 'old'. But i t i s some-49 thing s t a r t l i n g l y new, since for the f i r s t time i n history the consequences have been drawn from the question: What i s German culture? (Answer: Shit), and this culture i s at-tacked with a l l the instruments of satire, bluff, irony and f i n a l l y , violence. And i n a great common action."®-* "Dada lost i t s p o l i t i c a l and aesthetic v i r g i n i t y i n the post war period. By f a l l , 1920, the war had been over two years and i t was obvious that the tab-ula rasa,for which Swiss-German Dada was s t r i v i n g could not be-achieved. The Dada attitude began to s h i f t , imperceptibly at f i r s t , to the potential nihilism 90 for which i t i s now known." This fact does not contradict the preceeding dis-cussion. As the p o s s i b i l i t y for revolution faded i n post-war Germany, the move-ment, tied to this p o s s i b i l i t y for their polemical belie viability, found i t s own outlook more and more depreciated.Cultural attack, at the level of intensity and directness at which i t was carried out i n Berlin, i s a product of i n s t a b i l i t y i n society and the proximity of catastrophic liberative change. As the image of catastrophe disappeared, new tactics began to become necssary. In France, these were to be Surrealist tactics, which would enliven the Paris horizon soon after the "death" of Dada (Breton's F i r s t Manifesto of Surrealism i n 1924, the appea-rance of La Revolution Surrealiste on December 1 of the same year, the r i o t at the Closerie des L i l a s banquet i n honor of Saint-Pol-Roux i n July, 1925, for 91 \ example ). In Germany, no Surrealism was apparent, and Dada simply ceased op-erations.^ 2 "Dada come-to p o l i t i c s through poetic revolt, and p o l i t -ics absorbed Dada. Dada died of i t s transposition into rea-l i t y , for i t may be said that after 1920 Dada no longer ex-isted. What was to take place i n France some years later when, after the death of Dada, surrealism subdued and u t i l i z e d i t s anarchic drive, occurred much sooner i n Germany, where Dada was only a flash i n the pan, by the light of which a world was revealed. Dada's end was hastened by p o l i t i c a l events and the resulting transformation of i t s originally i n d i v i d u a l i s t i c sense of rebellion and separation. An end worthy of Dada's 50 grandeur and isolation, a normal end, inevitably brought about by the metamorphosis of i t s idealism and by i t s active intervention i n society. I t was Dada and i t s disorder versus a l l the unworthy forces that lay i n wait to destroy i t : the embourgeoisment of i t s combativeness and the d i s t -ortion of i t s liberating energy; an aestheticism emerging from Dada through i t s annulment, of which abstract art i s the most disastrous example. Dada and i t s refusal to establ-ish an aestheticism of any kind, because aestheticism i s always an absence of any attitude toward l i f e , and an end i n i t s e l f , were defenseless. Dada had never been a r t i s t i c , but i t had always been a state of mind, and i t had always been human: what happened i n Germany clearly proves thi s . And the Communists, powerful i n Germany owing to their or-ganization, showed that they understood this fact by accep-ting representatives of Dada into their ranks which on their part was no mistake."93 I I ALIENATION AND IDEOLOGY 51 The understending of the contextual nature of art, its status as a social process, is but one part of the necessary analysis. We have established that to consider art except contextually is meaningless; i t is essential to indicate, in the same breath so to speak, the basis of the context of art itself. The fr-ame of reference for art is not an a priori construct; i t is historical (see note 71), the result of determinate actions and relationships. Society preci-sely analogous with language is the horizon under which a l l these relationsh-ips take place and resolve themselves; yet, at the same time, society is compl-etely a product of these relationships. The relations create society; that is, the real actions of real men create the horizon in the same time as they live under i t . Marx understood society as this simultaneously concrete and reflexive phenomenon. In the same process in which men create society and language, these products in their turn, as completed constructs, reflect back on the original process, casting their image upon i t and modelling i t in that image. As a reflexive process, society is understood as the objectification of the labour process of production, and therefore, in a certain sense, as an as-pect of the "objectification of consciousness" mentioned earlier (see note 34). Art, like language, likewise is an aspect of the objectification of conscious-ness, the articulation of consciousness. There is no question of identifying the articulation with that which i t is to articulate. However, the separation between articulation of consciousness and consciousness must be considered in terms of process. While i t is possible to suggest that art or language is such an articulation, i t is not valid to postulate a schism between the two because in the necessarily social context of thought and action consciousness takes on meaning primarily as i t exists among individuals. Therefore, language ought not to be seen "additively" as something which simply makes consciousness accessib-52 le to other people. Rather, language should be seen d i a l e c t i c a l l y and re f l e x i v -ely, as an integral part of consciousness i n that consciousness takes on s i g n i -94 ficance only through i t s relationships with other subjects. Furthermore, i n practice, the issue of language and art does not arise except i n a social ambi-ence . "...we find that man....possesses 'consciousness*; but, even so, not inherent, not 'pure' consciousness. From the start the ' s p i r i t * i s a f f l i c t e d with the curse of being 'burdened* with matter, which here makes i t s appearance i n the form of agitated layers of a i r , sounds i n short, of language. Lan-guage i s as old as consciousness; language i s practical con-sciousness, as i t exists for other men, and for this reason i s really beginning to exist for me personally as well; for language, l i k e consciousness, arises only from the need, the necessity of intercourse with other men. Where there exists a relationship, i t exists for me: the animal has no 'relat-ions' with anything, cannot have any. For the animal, i t s relation to others does not exist as a relation. Conscious-ness i s therefore, from the very beginning a social product and remains so as long as men exist at all."95 The social ambience and system of thought the context i n which art ex-i s t s i n the modern era can be discussed i n terms of one word: alienation. Obvi-ously much has been said on the topic, and i t i s not my intention to add to a description of a r t i s t i c alienation as such here. Rather, the topic must be seen, not as an isolated a r t i s t i c phenomenon, but as a direct function of a more general condition which animates and enervates society as a whole. The concept of alienation, while not original with Marx, finds i t s concrete explication i n his critique of p o l i t i c a l economy. "...man's relationships with that which he produces by his unaided efforts are twofold. On the one hand he realizes himself i n them. There i s no a c t i v i t y which does not give form to some object, that does not have some issue or res-u l t which i t s author enjoys directly or indirectly. On the other hand or, rather, at the same time man loses himself i n his works. He loses his way among the products of his own 53 effort, which turn against him and weigh him down....At one moment, he sets off a succession of events that carr-ies him away: this i s history. At another moment, what he has created takes on a l i f e of i t s own that enslaves him: p o l i t i c s and the state. Now his own invention dazzles and fascinates him: this i s the power of ideology. Now the thing he has produced with his own hands—more accurately, the abstract thing—tends to turn him into a thing himself, just another commodity, an object to be bought and sold."° Alienation exists i n twentieth century c a p i t a l i s t society not as a malfun-ctioning of the society, nor, real l y , of the individual i n relation to that so-ciety. Indeed, to attempt such an analysis on these terms leads nowhere, except to the useless notion of a "fundamental co n f l i c t " . A very much more profitable f i e l d presents i t s e l f when one understands this contradictory situation to be a logi c a l and necessary outcome of the workings of a social organization whose 97 essence i s alienated. Such a situation has an economic, material basis: mat-e r i a l production, by the way i t organizes i t s e l f , creates specific relation-ships between men. These relationships•change as the organization of production develops, becomes more complex and so on. "The sum t o t a l of these relations of production constitutes the economic structure of society the real foundation on which rise legal and p o l i t i c a l superstructures and to which correspond d e f i -nite forms of social consciousness. The mode of production of material l i f e de-termines the general character of the s o c i a l , p o l i t i c a l and s p i r i t u a l processes of l i f e . I t i s not the consciousness of men that determines their existence, but, on the contrary, their social existence which determines their conscious-ness."^ Alienation i s an active component and i t i s centered around, of course, the process of production, which depends upon the division of labour and private property, which are seen as two aspects of the same process. 54 "With the division of labour, i n which all....contradictions are im p l i c i t and which i n i t s turn i s based on the natural division of labour i n the family and the separation of soci-ety into individual families opposed to one another, i s giv-en simultaneously the distribution, and indeed the unequal distribution (both quantitative and qualitative), of labour and i t s products, hence property: the nucleus, the f i r s t form of which l i e s i n the family, where wife and children are slaves of the husband. This latent slavery i n the fam-i l y , while s t i l l very crude, i s the f i r s t property, but even at this stage i t corresponds perfectly to the d e f i n i t -ion of modern economist who c a l l i t the power of disposing of the labour power of others. Division of labour and priv-ate property are, moreover, identical expressions: i n the one the same thing i s affirmed with reference to a c t i v i t y as i s affirmed i n the other with reference to the product of the activity."99 In social organization under these principles, working men are separated by an apparent structural necessity from involvement i n their work. When such a condition exists, labour, which i s the fundamental process of man, deeply conn-ected with time-and self-consciousness, becomes, i n the eyes of those with the power to purchase i t , a commodity, a raw material i n a certain sense, l i k e coal, steel or lumber; to those who are disposed to s e l l i t , i t becomes not l i f e i t -s e l f , not involvement, but a means to l i f e , and, as such, an obstacle to achie-vement, (see below, p.65). Leaving aside (necessarily) an h i s t o r i c a l recapitu-lation of the development of this state of a f f a i r s , l e t us examine what i t does to the worker. Nineteenth century p o l i t i c a l economy began from a situation i n which labour was already organized along the lines indicated above, i n which land and the major means of production were already i n private hands. It i s f r -om this point that we also begin. The crucial and obvious point to remember i s that Marx's work, while economically centered, i s a critique of p o l i t i c a l economy (cf. subtitle of Cap- i t a l ) . Marx points out that nineteenth century p o l i t i c a l economy i s by d e f i n i t -55 ion " c a p i t a l i s t " i n i t s assumptions (see p. 1), that i t i s i t s e l f a product of these particular relations. The problem with i t i n his eyes and this parallels Huelsenbeck's attitude toward the European a r t i s t i c avant-garde was that i t could not presume to be c r i t i c a l because i t could not move beyond the basic ass-umptions of the society which produced i t . " P o l i t i c a l economy begins with the fact of private prop-erty; i t does not explain i t . I t conceives the material process of private property as this occurs i n r e a l i t y , i n general and abstract formulas which then serve i t as laws. It does not comprehend these laws; that i s , i t does not ,JQQ show how they arise out of the nature of private property." The basis of the difference (and the conflict) between the two major class-es i n industrial c a p i t a l i s t society i s capital, and the processes which i t sets i n motion. Alienation might seem to be, then, only the province of the worker, for i t i s he who i s controlled by capital, while the c a p i t a l i s t controls i t . Capital determines everything for the worker: i n the f i r s t instance i t deter-mines whether or not he w i l l work at a l l , and after that, where, how long, how intensely, i n combination with whom, and so on. Nevertheless, we shall see that, i n the f i n a l analysis the organization i s circular and monolithic: i t includes the owner of property and capital as much as i t does the propertyless worker. The crucial difference i s one of immediacy and fundamentally. This difference i s s u f f icient, however, to understand that, while alienation i s a condition per-vading c a p i t a l i s t society, affecting a l l i t s members, i t does not appear to be a problem for those members of society whose interests are most directly and continually served by the t o t a l organization. Por these people the immediate effects, and consequently the immediate awareness of the situation i s vitiated by the processes i n society which are organized for their benefit. I t i s , there-fore i n our society as i t was i n the e a r l i e r c a p i t a l i s t nations directly under 56 Marx's gaze the non-propertied groups, the groups more f u l l y dependent upon the organization of society for their basic material existence, who undergo a significant alienation. The alienation of the ruling class i s an abstract alien-ation, something to be discussed and studied almost as a scholarly discipline; therefore i t i s not, i n Marx's terms, an h i s t o r i c a l force. This force i s or was potentially, i n Marx's day the very concrete alienation of the working class. These groups would feel the implications of their condition earliest and most powerfully. "The performance of work appears i n the sphere of p o l i t i c a l economy as a v i t i a t i o n of the worker, objectification as a loss and as servit- ude to the ob.iect. and appropriation as alienation."191 I t i s not the division of labour as such which Marx i s c r i t i c i z i n g ; i t i s a particular organization of the division of labour and the resulting conception of labour. "Further, the division of labour implies the contradiction between the interest of the separate individual or the indiv-idual family and the communal interest of a l l individuals who have intercourse with one another. And, indeed, this communal interest does not exist merely i n the imagination, as the 'ge-neral good', but f i r s t of a l l i n r e a l i t y , as the mutual inter-dependence of the individuals among whom labour i s divided. And f i n a l l y , the division of labour offers us the f i r s t examp-le of how, as long as man remains i n natural society that i s , as long as a cleavage exists between the common and the part-icular interest as long, therefore, as a c t i v i t y i s not vol-untarily but naturally divided, man's own deed becomes an-al-ien power opposed to him, which enslaves him instead of being controlled by him. For as soon as labour i s distributed, each man has a particular, exclusive sphere of a c t i v i t y which i s forced upon him and from which he cannot escape. He i s a hun-ter, a fisherman, a shepherd or a c r i t i c a l c r i t i c , and must remain so i f he does not want to lose his means of livelihood; while i n communist society, where nobody has one exclusive sphere of a c t i v i t y , but can become accomplished i n any branch he wishes, society regulates the general production and thus makes i t possible for me to do one thing today and another tomorrow, to hunt i n the morning, f i s h i n the afternoon, rear cattle i n the evening, c r i t i c i z e after dinner, just as I have 57 a mind, without ever becoming hunter, fisherman, shepherd or c r i t i c . " 1 0 2 Labour exists t o t a l l y i n terms of the external world, as a f i e l d of activ-i t y i n which man, the h i s t o r i c a l being, creates himself. It i s i n this sense that we understand Marx when he says that man creates the world, creates nature. But man carries out this process a l l the time, alienated or not. I t i s not a l i -enation which stops him from carrying out the a c t i v i t y of creating nature. But alienation i s a distorted condition which creates, therefore a false world. Wh-en the product of labour i s separated from the process of i t s production, a de-f i n i t e antagonism exists between the product and the process i.e. the worker finds his product standing opposed to him as an object over which he has no con-t r o l , yet, contradictorily, which he has created. I t i s apparent that this s i t u -ation w i l l extent from the immediate particular relationship between a specific worker and his specific product into more general realms. The relationship which entails between the particular worker and his particular product shapes the re-lationship between the general worker man, and his general product nature, the world, his l i f e . "...just as nature affords the means of existence of labour, i n the sense that labour cannot l i v e without objects upon wh-ich i t can be exercised, so i t also provides the means of ex- istence i n a narrower sense; namely, the means of physical existence for the worker himself. Thus the more the worker appropriates the external world of sensuous nature by his labour the more he deprives himself of means of existence, i n two respects: f i r s t , that the sensuous external world be-comes progressively less an object belonging to his labour or a means of existence of his labour, and secondly, that i t becomes progressively less a means of existence i n the d i r -ect sense, a means for the physical subsistence of the work-er. In both respects, therefore, the worker becomes a slave of the object;....Thus the object enables him to exist, f i r -st as a worker and secondly, as a physical object. The cul-58 mination of this enslavement is that he can only maintain himself as a physical ob.ject so far as he is a worker, and that i t i s only as a physical ob.ject that he is a worker." Through alienated labour, the relationship of man to a l l of nature is alt-ered (see p. 2). Instead of creating a continuum, in which labour and i t s prod-uct l i f e and nature are totally interrelated, the industrial world creates a tense discontinuum, in which the two are totally antagonistic. Furthermore, alienation is not just the property and quality of the prod-uct, i t does not become apparent only in the post-labour state. For, i f at the conclusion of a particular action of work, the worker i s faced with the object-ified product of his labour, and i f this work is totally out of his control, i t must follow that the entire process of creating this product was the process of destroying this control: "...alienation appears not merely in the result but also in the process of production, within productive activity i t s e l f . How could the worker stand in an alien relationship to the product of his activity i f he did not alienate himself in the process of production itself? The product is indeed only the • resume of activity, of production. Consequently, i f the pro-duct of labour i s alienation, production i t s e l f must be act-ive alienation....(labour is)...not the satisfaction of a meed, but only a means for satisfying other needs. Its alien charac- , ter i s clearly shown by the fact that as soon as there i s no physical or other compulsion i t i s avoided like the plague.... Finally, the external character of work for the worker i s shown by the fact that i t i s not his own work but work for someone else, that in work he does not belong to himself but to another person." 1^ In the Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, Marx extends his analysis to a further dimension of alienation: alienation of man from his "or-ganic essence", from his "species l i f e " . This species-life "has i t s basis in the fact that man (like animals) lives from inorganic nature, and since man is more universal than an animal so the range of inorganic nature from which he 59 105 lives i s more universal." Por man, the entirety of the world outside his bo-dy constitutes a basic part of his consciousness. "The universality of man app-ears i n practice i n the universality which makes the whole of nature into his inorganic body: (1) as a direct means of l i f e ; and equally (2) as the material object and instrument of his l i f e a c t i v i t y . Nature i s the inorganic body of man; 106 with which he must remain i n a continuous interchange i n order not to die." As we have seen, alienated labour removes man from nature, or nature from man, and man from himself. I t must, by a perfectly valid movement, alienate him from individual other men and from a l l other men the "species". "It makes sp-ecies l i f e into a means of individual l i f e , and secondly, i t turns the l a t t e r , as an abstraction, into the purpose of the former, also i n i t s abstract and a l i -107 enated form." The l i f e - a c t i v i t y that i s labour, appears to be, as stated ab-ove, now only a means to a l i f e - a c t i v i t y , and so "Life appears only as a means „ 1 . „ .,108 of l i f e . " I f nature i s the inorganic body of man, man must make his existence i n terms of nature. No opposition i s seen here; there i s no necessity to suppose that, i n the "abstract", nature by definition stands opposite man and forces him to wage war against i t for survival, and therefore to l i v e on the carnage of nature. "iWhile Marx p a r t i a l l y retains the common nineteenth century view that nature exists basically as the material of consciousness, he avoids the implic-ation to treat i t as an instrumentality, devoid of any meaningful existence out-side the particular aspirations of men. Man i s able to make workable abstract-ions about nature, to make definitions of i t . Once he achieves a definition of nature, he works i n i t s terms (see p. 51). I t should be apparent that this i s l i a b l e to lead to various kinds of d i f f i c u l t y , most of which have been realized i n the twentieth century. These d i f f i c u l t i e s result from, i n general, the inad-60 equacy of operational definitions of nature. Marx understood the deep r e l a t -ionship between man and nature; he knew that part of man's relationship with nature was passive, and very consciously so; i n a certain sense this passivity corresponds to the the aesthetic impulse. "Animals produce only themselves, while man reproduces the whole of nature. The products of animal production belong directly to their physical bodies, while man i s free i n the face of his product. Animals construct only i n accordance with the standards and needs of the species to which they belong, while man knows how to produce i n accordance with the standards of every species and knows how to apply the appropriate standard to the object. Thus man also constructs i n accordance with the laws of beauty." 1 1 0 The object of labour i s the creation of the world. This statement should be considered i n the same terms as those stated by Rimbaud when asked by his mother i n what sense his poetry meant "what i t said": "exactly and i n every sense". "The object of labour i s , therefore, the objectification of man's spe- cies l i f e ; for he no longer reproduces himself merely i n t e l l e c t u a l l y , as i n consciousness, but actively and i n a real sense, and he sees his own reflection i n a world which he has constructed."^ Therefore, alienated labour v i r t u a l l y deprives man of his species, or true community l i f e . We understand man now a l i e -nated i n every sphere. Throughout Marx's argument, alienation i s nothing other than a human process: "The alien being to whom labour and the product of labour belong, to whose service labour i s devoted, can only be man himself. I f the product of labour does not belong to the worker, but confronts him as an alien power, this can only be because i t belongs to a man other than the worker. I f this a c t i v i t y i s a torment to him i t must be the source of enjoy-ment and pleasure to another. Not the gods, nor nature, but only man himself can be this alien power over men."112 This statement throws a good deal of light on the positions of such cone-61 epts as "God" and "Nature", which are seemingly timeless, i n the development of h i s t o r i c a l systems of thought or systems of ideology. In Marx's sense, systems of ideology are codifications of specific a c t i v i t i e s of social organization, and, as Marcuse suggests, such systems produce controlled contexts i n which 113 "timeless" concepts of philosophy are used. Society produces an in t e l l e c t u a l superstructure i n which these concepts w i l l be used; the manner i n which they are used defines the context of their use, and therefore defines them. We shall see the implications of this observation i n a later section (see below, p.no). The relationship of man to nature, and hence to other men, we have seen, i s the horizon under which in t e l l e c t u a l a c t i v i t y develops. Marx argues that when a so-ciety bases i t s existence on an alienated productive process, i t w i l l produce,, on every l e v e l , an alienated world including naturally, alienated i n t e l l e c t -ual a c t i v i t y , which centers on the contextual location of these universal conc-epts. Moreover, as i n t e l l e c t u a l production increases, the process becomes ref-ined and sophisticated: what might have been seen as an "arithmetic progression" of the dominance of certain abstract ideas becomes, with the advance of s e l f -validating ideology, a "geometric progression", i n which the reflexive nature of abstraction turns back onto the process of material production, re-forming i t i n i t s image with continually increasing speed and intensity. This procedure i s encased i n history while being the motive force of history. The production of universal concepts i s not an unnatural phenomenon; Marx i s not attempting any spurious debunking of abstraction as such. Rather, his intention i s to pla-ces such concepts i n terms of their position and function more than of their specific content i n the context of a c t i v i t i e s which i n fact produced them, and to which they owe their existence. "Such universals thus appear as conceptual instruments for 62 understanding the particular conditions of things i n the l i g h t of t h e i r p o t e n t i a l i t i e s . They are h i s t o r i c a l and supra-histori-c a l ; they conceptualize the st u f f of which the experienced wor-l d consists....The philosophic concepts are formed and develop-ed i n the consciousness of a general condition i n an h i s t o r i c a l continuum; they are elaborated from an individual position with-i n a s p e c i f i c society. The st u f f of thought i s h i s t o r i c a l stuff no matter how abstract, general, or pure i t may become i n philosophic or s c i e n t i f i c theory. The abstract-universal and at the same time h i s t o r i c a l character of these 'eternal objects' of thought i s recognized...in Whitehead's Science and the  Modern World: 'Eternal objects are....in their nature, abstract. By "abstract" I mean that what an eternal object i s i n i t s e l f that i s to say, i t s essence i s comprehensible without reference to some one part-i c u l a r experience. To be abstract i s to transcend the particular occasion of actual happening. But to transcend an actual occasion does not mean be-ing disconnected from i t . On the contrary, I hold that each eternal object has i t s own proper conn-ection with each such occasion, which I term i t s mode of ingression into that occasion.' 'Thus the metaphysical status of an eternal object i s that of a p o s s i b i l i t y f o r an actuality. Every actual occasion i s defined as to i t s character by how these p o s s i b i l i t i e s are actualized f or that occa-sion. '"IH That Marx would concur essentially with such ideas i s made obvious by the following: "It should be noted....that everything which appears to the worker as an a c t i v i t y of alienation. appears to the non-wor-ker as a condition of alienation. Secondly, the r e a l , prac- t i c a l attitude (as a state of mind) of the worker i n produc-tion and to the product appears to the non-worker who conf-ronts him as a theoretical a t t i t u d e . 5 "Division of labour becomes tru l y such only from the mo-ment when a d i v i s i o n of material and mental labour appears. From this moment onwards consciousness can r e a l l y f l a t t e r i t s e l f that i t i s something other than consciousness of ex-i s t i n g practice, that i t i s r e a l l y conceiving something with-out conceiving something re a l ; from now on consciousness i s i n a position to emancipate i t s e l f from the world and to pro-ceed to the formation of 'pure' theory, theology, philosophy, 63 ethics, etc. But even i f this theory, theology, philosophy, ethics, etc., comes into contradiction with the existing relations, this can occur only as a result of the fact that existing social relations have come into contradiction with the existing forces of production..." 1 1" Such abstract thought attempts to renounce i t s material causes, and to re-place the acknowledgement of this with the idea that the material world i s for-med from the concept, which exists prior to any actual thing, and which informs the structure of the material world as i t s essence. This i s the basis of the tightly-structured ideology i n which processes exist as they are defined i n su-perstructural language, outside of whose system of maintained definitions one cannot venture. The alienated social organization has removed the "natural" sources of men's wealth, and l e f t them with a false consciousness of wealth and poverty. "Private property has made us so stupid and pa r t i a l that an object i s not ours unless we have, when i t exists for us as capital or when i t i s directly eaten, drunk, worn, inhab-ited, etc., i n short, u t i l i z e d i n some way. But private pro-perty i t s e l f only conceives these various forms of possessi-on as means of l i f e , and the l i f e for which they serve as means i s the l i f e of private property labour and the crea-tion of capital. Thus a l l the physical and int e l l e c t u a l senses have been replaced by the simple alienation of a l l these senses; the sense of having. The human being had to be reduced to this absolute poverty i n order to be able to give birth to a l l his inner wealth." 1 1 7 The theoretical structure of alienation creates the dehumahization of the senses (and therefore of thought i t s e l f ) as a universal condition, whose truth i s proved i n that i t works i t s e l f out reflexively i n society. Thus, alienated thinking recognizes i t s e l f , but, l i k e the ca p i t a l i s t p o l i t i c a l economy which i s one of i t s aspects, i t "takes for granted that which i t should explain"; that i s , i t posits as a universal a p r i o r i that situation within which i t was creat-64 ed, and which i t is bound, as intellectual activity, to explain. The dehumanization of the sense is a function of the ruin of the species l i f e of man; the senses therefore, do not really exist in this society; their creation is the project of society, which, in effect is destroyed or thwarted by organized alienation. In the alienated world, society, in Marx's sense of the term, cannot exist; the universe shows i t s face as foreign and antagonistic, and the soundest ad-vice comes from Beckett: "don't wait to be hunted to hide." In society, as Marx defines i t , every act is social; i t is the species l i f e of man to be social: "...the social character is the universal character of the whole movement; as society produces man as man, so i t is produced by him. Activity and mind are social in their con-tent as well as in their origin; they are social activity and social mind. The human significance of nature only ex-ists for social man, because only in. this case is nature a bond with other men, the basis of his existence for others and of their existence for him. Only then is nature the ba- sis of his own human experience and a vital element of hum-an reality. The natural existence of man has here become his human existence and nature i t s e l f has become human for him. Thus society i s the accomplished union of man with nature, the veritable resurrection of nature, the realized natural-ism of man and the realized humanism of nature. Social activity and social mind by no means exist only in the form of activity or mind which is directly communal. iV. Even-when I-carry out scientific work, etc., an activi-ty which I can seldom conduct in direct association with other men, I perform a social, because human, act. It is not only the material of my activity such as the language its e l f which the thinker uses which is given to me as a social product. My own existence is a social activity. For this reason, what I myself produce, I produce for society, and with the consciousness of acting as a social being. My universal consciousness is only the theoretical form of that whose living form is the real community....although at the present day this universal consciousness is an ab-straction from real l i f e and is opposed to i t as an enemy. That is why the activity of my universal consciousness as such is my theoretical existence as a social being. It is above a l l necessary to avoid postulating 'society' once again as an abstraction confronting the individual. The individual is_ the social being."^^ 65 The significance of the situation which Marx is describing is that i t does not exist. The life which does exist is of a distinctly different kind. The in-tellectual activity of this life its universities, publishing houses, cultur-al institutions, its art, necessarily is bound to and partakes of this alienat-ion. If the consciousness of the chasm between the potential and the actual is the measure of the state of conflict in which a human individual exists in our world, we must begin to recognize as the Berlin Dadaists did, the inherent ten-sion in art. It makes no sense to insist that the "essence" of art is not alien-ated, that artistic alienation is a surface phenomenon peculiar to the times. In the twentieth century art exists as a function of an alienated context-univ-erse; i t is inherently alienated as no other previous art-system has been. For us to conceive an art which is not alienated, i t is necessary to conceive of a fundamentally different organization of society. "The fact that the growth of needs and of the means to satisfy them results in a lack of needs and of means is dem-onstrated in several ways by the economist....First, by re-ducing of the worker to the most miserable necessities re-quired for the maintenance of his physical existence, and by reducing his physical activity to the most abstract mechanic-al movements, the economist asserts that man has nonneeds, for activity or enjoyment, beyond that; and yet he declares that this way of life is a human way of li f e . Secondly, by reckoning as the general standard of life (general because it is applicable to the mass of men) the most impoverished life conceivable, he turns the worker into a being who has . neither senses nor needs, just as he turns his activity in-to a pure abstraction from all activity. Thus all working-class luxury seems to him blameworthy, and everything which goes beyond the most abstract need (whether i t be a passive enjoyment or the manifestation of a personal activity) is regarded as a luxury. Political economy, the science of wea- lth, is, therefore at the same time, the science of renunc-iation, of privation and of saving, which actually aucceeds in depriving man of fresh air and of physical activity. The science of a marvellous industry is at the same time the science of asceticism. Its true ideal is the ascetic but usurious miser and the ascetic but productive slave. Its 66 moral ideal i s the worker who takes a part of his wages to the savings bank. I t has even found a servile art to embody this favourite idea....Thus, despite i t s worldly and pleasure-seek-ing appearance, i t i s a truly moral science, and the most mor-a l of a l l sciences. Its principle thesis i s the renunciation of l i f e and of human needs. The less you eat, drink, buy books, go to the theatre or to b a l l s , or to the public house, and the less you think, love, theorize, sing, paint, fence, etc., the more • you w i l l be able to save and the greater w i l l become your treas-ure which neither moth nor rust w i l l corrupt your capital. The less you are, the less you express your l i f e , the more you have, the greater i s your alienated l i f e and the greater i s the saving of your alienated being. Everything which the economist takes from you i n the way of l i f e and humanity, he restores to you i n the form of money and wealth. And everything which you are un-able to do, your money can do i t for you; i t can eat,drink, go to the b a l l and go to the theatre. It can acquire art, learning, h i s t o r i c a l treasures, p o l i t i c a l power, and i t can travel. I t can appropriate a l l these things for you, can purchase every-thing; i t i s the true opulence. But although i t can do a l l t h i s , i t only desires to create i t s e l f , and to buy i t s e l f , for every-thing else i s subservient to i t . When one owns the master, one also owns the servant, and one has no need of the master's ser-vants. Thus a l l passions and a c t i v i t i e s must be submerged i n avarice. The worker must have just what i s necessary for him to want to l i v e , and he must want to l i v e only i n order to have t h i s . " " ? As mentioned above, c a p i t a l i s t society produces men; the fact that moral judgements render the society imperfect or worse does not change this fundamen-t a l fact. As Marx outlines, society's members are placed into positions of ad-ministered need and gratification; as subjectsof analysis and manipulation they are t o t a l l y dependent. This dependence has i t s roots i n specific relationships between men. The knowledge of this implies cr i t i c i s m , and we have noted Marx's role as c r i t i c i n the f i e l d of p o l i t i c a l economy and philosophy. The c r i t i c a l role i s secular and rational, and does not allow the obscurity of abstraction. Criticism as well i s contextual i n nature. In the a c t i v i t y of c r i t i c i s m contexts are exploded and re-established on more general grounds. That i s , a particular system i s surpassed only by a system of greater functional generality, one which explains a l l that was explained by the original system, and which explains the 67 original system i t s e l f . In this movement i s contained the "development" of ideas. Dialectical c r i t i c i s m , as introduced by Marx through the critique of Hegel, est-ablishes the process of existence i n distinction from the "fact" of r e a l i t y , sees the world i n a state of constant development and change. This change i s not carried out at the level of abstraction, but at the level of practice, i n the ac t i v i t y of creating the material conditions of l i f e , and their corresponding int e l l e c t u a l conditions. Changes i n the conduct of a l l levels of l i f e occur for Marx not when revisions are made i n the configuration of a context for example when the management of a corporation enlarges the definition of their a c t i v i t y to include provision of care for i t s employees' children er subsidy.:for an art-i s t to work with equipment i n their factories but when the entire outline of context i s redrawn. Art's participation i n this process of re a l i t y should be apparent, for i t i s much more readily accepted that art l i v e s by revolutionary development (whi-ch i s the breaking of the t o t a l i t y of context) than i t i s that society as a wh-ole does so. Art's breath of l i f e i s constant change; "Only the present blows 120 fresh; a l l else i s faded and more faded." Furthermore, change i s realized only through practice, through the creation of new works of art. "Art" as a pu-rpose or as an independent (reified) entity i s obviously an i l l u s i o n . Theory i s reduced from the existence and function of actual works of art and, i n the ref-lexive manner outlined above, moves into the re a l i t y of the process to inform further work. The theory of a particular art, obviously, never preceeded the appearance of concrete works of that art, but followed from the realm of fact created by the active a r t i s t s . However, once theory makes i t s appearance the role of the facts i s irrevocably changed: the truth of theory makes the world of fact also the world of appearance. The achieved work of art i s the arti f a c t 68 of an apparently imperceptible process. One i s conscious, with the appearance of the role of theory, of a l l that which, i n a work of art, cannot be seen or apprehended i n direct experience of the work. This imperceptible component i s process, and the work stands tied by definition to this imperceptible r e a l i t y . Theory and "a r t i f a c t " stand together; the question of primacy between them i s meaningless. The most d i f f i c u l t area of any work of art painting, novel, son-ata and so on i s i t s edge, the area where theory interfaces with f a c t i c i t y . The value and truth of theory i s to illuminate this edge, to bring i t into foc-us, to show the r e a l i t y and consequences of the process with which the product stands i n d i a l e c t i c a l relationship. This outlook undermines any notions of " i n -e v i t a b i l i t y " regarding the achieved state of fact. Theory reveals the truth that every work of art, despite i t s appearance of f i x i t y , as object, has i t s center i n process, or practice. The above i s not a theory of art, but i s more an approach to a theory of theory. The consideration of theory, i t w i l l be appreciated, brings us into con-tact with the problem of ideology. While the term "ideology" originated with the attempt to found a ^science of ideas", on generally empiricist terms i n the later eighteenth and early nin-eteenth centuries i n France, Marx and Engels i n the middle of the nineteenth 121 century transformed i t s meaning. Their meaning was twofold: on the one hand, i t i s a term which, instead of denoting a particular theory or f i e l d of study, as that of the French ideologues had, " i t came to denote a phenomenon the theory accounted for. This phenomenon now took on entirely different dimensions. As interpreted by the French ideologists, ideology was limited to accounting for individual representations by a causal psychology. To Marx and Engels, the phe-nomenon under study became a collection of representations characteristic of a 69 122 given epoch and society. For example: The German Ideology." On the other, the term was used to designate a process of thinking which, for various reasons, i s incapable of comprehending the t o t a l i t y of i t s particular situation or confri ext. This "false consciousness" can be seen as, i n a certain sense, the narrow definition of the term "ideology", and includes the seemingly mundane problem of conscious and deliberate distortion of supposedly available facts by inter-est groups or classes against other groups or classes. In establishing the c r i t i c a l category of false consciousness, Marx set up a judgemental structure which ultimately depends upon a kind of "logic of h i s t -ory", a belief that within history, but "behind" appearance, moves a structured process which can be known by, and which i s , true consciousness. This purpose, however, i s not necessarily a particular state or object; i t i s rather a partic-ular process. The connections with Hegel are obvious: "The Marxian concept of ideology....fuses two different principles: Hegel's insight into the transitory nature of the successive manifestations of the s p i r i t , and Feuer-bach's materialist inversion of Hegel, with i t s stress on the this-worldly character of natural existence. Separat-ed from each other these concepts remained speculative; joined together they yielded an explosive mixture."123 At this point a d i f f i c u l t y must be discussed, i f only summarily; i t s pres-ence indicates a c r i t i c a l juncture of Marxist thought and, by?extension, a sim-i l a r lever i n the development of this thesis, revealing, as i t does, several central undefined assumptions i n i t s structure. This problem i s discussed more f u l l y i n the essay by Lichtheim noted above, though i t was formulated independently by this author. Basically, "Marx's conc-eption of ideology as 'false consciousness' leads back to the problem of estab-l i s h i n g the true consciousness which w i l l enable men to understand their role. 70 There i s only one truth about history, and only one crit e r i o n for judging the discrepancy between what men are and what they might become; this c r i t e r i o n i s supplied by philosophy, sp e c i f i c a l l y by i t s understanding of man as a rational being. Thus philosophy, as the norm of r e a l i t y , entails an implicit critique of this r e a l i t y . Yet Marx also held that thellphilbSpphy of every age i s the 'ideo-logi c a l reflex' of determinate social conditions. How then could i t function as the source of normative judgements pointing beyond the existing state of aff* j . i ? a i r s ? " 1 2 4 Unlike the French ideologues, who opted against assigning a rational cont-ent to history, Marx, while i n accordance with them denying traditional meta-physics, retained this view. This can be seen as the basis of his Hegelianism. Marx maintains, i n his concept of ideology, the distinction between "Reality" and "Appearance"; this distinction, as a process, i s alienation. "Alienated social a c t i v i t y i s to Marx what alienated mental ac t i v i t y i s to Hegel. For both, the distinction between Real-i t y and Appearance i s involved i n the manner i n which real processes are transformed into apparently fixed and stable characters. Reality i s process, appearance has the form of isolated objects. The task of c r i t i c a l thinking i s to grasp the relations which constitute these apparent o b j e c t s . " 1 ^ In terms of the Marxian dialectic a contradiction exists, stemming from the fact that "there i s not as Feuerbach had thought a single universal hu-man standpoint from which to judge the alienations imposed by history; there are only particular human standpoints, corresponding to forms of society which 126 arise from the interplay of material conditions..." The dial e c t i c i s worked out i n history, i n practice; the problems raised and the conditions created are "mirrored" i n the varying modes of thought. "Th-ese modes are 'ideological' i n that the participants f a i l to comprehend the s i t -71 uation i n which they are involved." However, i t , as Marx i n s i s t s , " I t i s not the consciousness of men that determines their existence, but their social exis-tence which determines their consciousness." then the parallel declaration, made as well by Marx, that men's consciousness can rupture the continuum of this f a l -se consciousness, seems contradictory and impossible, an unresolved mixture of "sociological" r e l a t i v i t i e s and "philosophical" generalizations. Lichtheim explains: "The principle that social being determines consciousness must be understood as i t s e l f an h i s t o r i c a l one: i t refers to a state of a f f a i r s which has characterised history from the very beg-inning, but which i s due to disappear when a rational order has been created. For the attainment of such an order implies the conscious direction of social l i f e , hence the emancipation of consciousness from blind, uncomprehended necessity. Conscious-ness i s ideological because i t i s powerless. When i t becomes the determining factor, i t sheds i t s blinkers along with i t s dependence on material circumstances. A rational order i s one i n which thinking determines being. Men w i l l be free when they are able to produce their own circumstances. Historical mater-ialism i s valid only u n t i l i t has brought about i t s own d i a l -e c t i c a l negation."128 In regard to this, Marx's theories of history can be correctly interpreted as theories of a particular history: he called i t the period of "pre-history", to indicate that i s was the period of human aff a i r s when reason had not yet manifested i t s e l f i n practice, i n which the "realm of necessity" continued to overwhelm the "realm of freedom". In effect, the history with which Marx was concerned was not yet "human" history at a l l , because the basis of the human was only a theoretical construct, disconnected from practice. Marx's history can be seen as the analysis of that which i s not yet i n existence, i n that what does exist i s seen i n the c r i t i c a l l i g h t of a notion of i t s limitations. Marx's "h i s t o r i c a l laws", as Lichtheim establishes, hold for the period of "pre-histo-72 ry", when men are i n conflict with the material world, when i t i s out of their control. Ideology, born out of an apparently chaotic situation and chaotic pra-ctice, i s necessarily the system of thought of pre-history. "Marxian theory i s , then, incompatible with f a t a l i s t i c determ-inism. True, h i s t o r i c a l materialism involves the determinist principle that consciousness i s conditioned by social exist-ence. ...however....the necessary dependence enunciated by this principle applies to the 'pre-historical' l i f e , namely, to the l i f e of class society. The relations of production that rest-r i c t and distort man's potentialities inevitably determine his consciousness, precisely because society i s not a free and con-scious subject. As long as man i s incapable of dominating these relations and using them to gratify the needs and desires of the whole, they w i l l assume the form of an objective, indepen-dent entity. Consciousness, caught i n and overpowered by these relations, necessarily becomes ideological." 129 Ideology and alienation, l i k e private property and the cap i t a l i s t division of labour, are aspects of the same process. Just as alienation i s an incomplete condition of the process of social production, ideology i s an incomplete condi-tion of the crresponding process of mental production. "False consciousness" i s thecorresponding thought-pattern and structure to a specific social r e a l i t y . The judgemental aspects of the notion of "false consciousness" stem from a spec i f i c a l l y transcendent idea: "Marx preserved the original motive of his thinking (togeth-er with the conception of history he had inherited from Heg-el) by refusing to recognize the dilemma inherent i n the principle that modes of thought are to be understood as 'ex-pressions' of changing social circumstances. He took i t for granted that, though consciousness i s conditioned by exist-ence, i t can also rise above existence and become a means of transcending the alienation which sets the h i s t o r i c a l process i n motion. The truth about man i s one and the same for a l l stages of history, even though every stage produces i t s own i l l u s i o n s . This truth i s likewise the crit e r i o n for the pra-c t i c a l a c t i v i t y which seeks to overcome man's alienation from his 'true' being. The concept of ideology illumines the hi s t o r i c a l circumstance that men are not i n possession of 73 the true consciousness which i f they had i t would enable them to understand the totality of their world and their p l -ace in i t . . . .The unity of mankind, and the universality of the truth, were as real to him as they were to Hegel..."^ 30 However, i t is equally apparent that this notion, while transcendent, is not s t r i c t ly metaphysical; that i s , i t does not contradict Marx's rejection of metaphysical notions of philosophy. Its frame of reference i s entirely within time, history and man himself, (see note 132) The quality of knowledge Marx at-tributes to man i s , again, definable contextually: that i s , the conviction that he possesses true consciousness (at least as a potential) i s based on the fact that particular men do in fact achieve contextual revolution, do transcend the limitations of the context in which their ideas were formed. It is likewise an historical problem and a truth that such revolution has not taken place in the total context, as i t has in more limited areas such as l inguistics, art or phy-sics, for example. The fact that thought maintains a dynamic relationship with context, that by establishing context while being created by context, demonstr-ates the reflexive nature of thought, as discussed above (pp. 51-52). Just as men become aware of the limits of their language, they become conscious, i n the same procedure, of the nature of their own consciousness. The fact that men find language interesting in i t se l f , and not just for the representations and depictions, etc., that i t makes possible, i s evidence for this fact. This self-consciousness exists not on the "spir i tual" plane, as i t did with Hegel, but on earth, at the level of practice, of factual interaction in daily l i f e ; in short, in society. "Marx discovers that language is not merely the vehicle of a pre-existent consciousness. It is at once the natural and the social medium of consciousness, i t s mode of existence. It comes into being with the need for communication, with human intercourse in the broadest sense. Consequently, being 74 inseparable from language, consciousness i s a social cre-a t i o n . " ^ This does not deny the existence of non-verbal, "private" states of consci-ousness; i t simply indicates the realm of their significance, and the sources of 131 A their structure. Self-consciousness, and the correspondent "overcoming of alienation, acts by definition i n society, human time, and history, and i s cre-ated out of these. Hence, something l i k e "essence" i s conceivable only i n terms of practice, and hence also the claim that, for Marx, transcendence i s a valid 132 notion without metaphysical implications. Ideology as a process i s identifiable with alienation i n that ideology i s alienated thought,•or thought formed within the alienated context which estab-lishes i t s structural l i m i t s . Thought i t s e l f , as far as i t i s l i n g u i s t i c i n ch-aracter, i s a social product. The social organization, which for the ca p i t a l i s t world is" predicated upon the division of labour, reaches i t s apex with the div-is i o n of material and in t e l l e c t u a l labour (see note 116). At this point thought loses i t s way i n the process of producing abstractions, becomes capable of det-achment from process i t s e l f , and creates what seem to be "theories" (and i n ce-rtain aspects are), but which are components of ideology abstract structures of false consciousness. These structures are not really independent, but are connected organically to the r e a l i t y of the context. The division between lev-els of ideological a c t i v i t y i n society i s seen to be an a r t i f i c i a l one (see note 107, and p. 1) i n that, due to the irrevocable attachment, abstract idea-production becomes a function of class c o n f l i c t . Philosophy, Marx showed, was ideological thought i n that i t had not comprehended the source of i t s e l f cf. Theses on Feuerbach. Philosophy, as i t had existed prior to Marx and Engels (particularly Germ-75 an philosophy) had been bound up i n this endless contradiction. A process, no matter what i t s nature, tends to become "real"; that i s , once set i n motion, an i l l u s i o n , for example, has the power to become an integral part of r e a l i t y . "Once ideology i s related to the real conditions that gave rise to i t , i t ceases to be completely i l l u s o r y , entirely false. For what i s ideology?.Either i t i s a theory that i s unconscious of i t s own pre-suppositions, i t s basis i n r e a l i t y , and true meaning, a theory unrelated to action, i.e., with-out consequences or with consequences different from those expected or forseen. Or i t i s a theory that generalizes spec-i a l interests class interests by such means as abstract-ion, incomplete or distorted representations, appeals to fetishism. If so, i t i s erroneous to maintain that every ideology i s pure i l l u s i o n . I t appears that ideology i s not, after a l l , to •rs be accounted for by a sort of ontological fate that compels consciousness to d i f f e r from being. Ideologies have a truly h i s t o r i c a l and sociological foundation i n the division of labour on the one hand,?iri language on the other."133 Ideology reflects back upon praxis and holds the power to influence subse-quent a c t i v i t y . This i s a problem because ideological consciousness i s incompl-ete, and through i t s incompleteness becomes i n a sense powerless, and an imple-ment of untruth, either deliberate or otherwise. Simply, the ideological consc-iousness comes out of a p a r t i a l r e a l i t y . To take up Marx's terminology, thought has the power to reflect r e a l i t y clearly, language has the capacity to render the structure of human relationships transparent. or comprehensible to a l l . As well i t has the capacity to obscure these relationships (more or less deliber-ately) through the retention of abstractions produced i n a particular product-ive social stage, which take on the appearance of immutable ent i t i e s . Ideology thus becomes part of language as i t becomes part of the social organization, part of praxis. We know that language i t s e l f i s a product of pra-x i s , that action determines what people say. Nevertheless, i t i s only when act-ions are moved to the l i n g u i s t i c realm that they become genuine social property. 76 For example, an art work i s the product of practice, of the creative work of an individual. The creative work issues i n the work of art, whether i t i s "object" or not. As such, the creative process enters (or re-enters) the social continuum, becomes e x p l i c i t social property, generates language, influences people. Ideolo-gy can be seen as a d i a l e c t i c a l mediator between actions and language. This me^  diation, when ideological, i s a¥barrier or screen between language and the act-ions which brought i t into existence. Non-ideological thought true "theory"— i s likewise a mediator, but i t i s disti n c t from ideology i n that i t i s conscious 134 of the nature of i t s own creation, so can never be a screen. This "barrier" aspect of ideology i s necessarily bound up with the antagon-i s t i c structure of the society i n which i t develops. The barrier works "via pre-existing representations, selected by the dominant groups and acceptable to them. Old problems, old points of view, old vocabularies....stand i n the way of the 135 new elements i n society and new approaches to i t s problems." The connection between ideology and bureaucracy (the tendency to become self- s u f f i c i e n t wholes) i s apparent here. The two-leveled operation of ideology gives i t a double function: on the one hand, as Lefebvre points out, they are general, speculative and abstract, i n that they purport to formulate a comprehensive view of the world; on the ot-her, they are representative of specific interests, and,.while attempting to explain the world, they reinforce and maintain the existence of a particular world, a particular context or "system of values". "...Ideological representations invariably serve as instrum-ents i n the struggles between groups....and classes. But th-e i r intervention i n such struggles takes the form of masking the true interests and aspirations of the groups involved, universalizing the particular and mistaking the part for the whole."136 77 Thus i t can be seen that the "class interest" aspect of ideology invol-ving more or less deliberate f a l s i f i c a t i o n s and distortions as t a c t i c a l maneuv-ers and the broader "comprehensivist" tendencies cannot be considered separa-tely, because the world concept, i n a class society, cannot develop under any ,other horizon but that sanctioned (and created) by the dominant class. This class weapon, as we have seen, contains as a necessary part of i t s s t -ructure certain elements of truth, some " s c i e n t i f i c concepts", mixed up with amalgams of myth, religious incantation, l i n g u i s t i c contradictions and deliber-ate distortions. Radical c r i t i c a l theory i s charged with the responsibility of distinguishing between these various elements and delineating the process of their combination. In a post-revolutionary situation i t aids i n a salvage oper-ation, just as Marx and Engels "salvaged" the d i a l e c t i c a l process from the met-aphysical German philosophical tradition. This "salvage" aspect indicates the truth of the statement that ideology cannot be seen as simply true or false; i t i s clear that truth and falsehood, profundity and deception are linked together i n these systems of thought i n a unique manner. True and false consciousness are likewise interconnected i n this contextual-dialectical way. True consciousness i s irrevocably bound to false consciousness; i t i s only through engagement with the l a t t e r that the former realizes i t s e l f . As Lefebvre says, "...emergent truth i s always mixed up with i l l u s i o n and error. The theory discards the view that error, i l l u s i o n , f a l s i t y stand off i n sharp and obvious distinction from knowledge, truth, certainty. There i s continual two-way di a l e c t i c a l movement between the true and the false which transcends the h i s t o r i c a l situation that gave rise to these representations. As Hegel had seen, error and i l l u s i o n are 'moments' of knowledge, out of which the truth emerges."137 Previously, we have used the term "myth" or "mystification" i n connection 78 with the ideological process (see pp. 25-35) as i t had manifested i t s e l f i n the actions of the Parisian Dadaists. Let us c l a r i f y the relationship between ideo-logy and "myth". We have seen (pp. 74-75) how ideology enters language, and th-erefore, culture; becomes i n fact a part of the l i f e of a nation or society. An ideology's success depends upon the degree to which i t manages to obliterate antagonism. That i s , i t i s a substitute, a necessary replacement for outright physical force i n an antagonistic situation. Ko society can survive i f a l l that holds i t together i s force and the threat of violence, unless this force i s re-shaped and becomes an organic part of the productive organization of the socie-ty. Those who rule must secure the consent of the ruled. This sounds suspiciou-sly l i k e democratic theory, and i s at the basis of "democratic ideology". "It i s the role of ideologies to secure the assent of the oppressed and exploited. Ideologies present the l a t t e r to themselves i n such a way as to wrest from them, i n addit-ion to material wealth, their ' s p i r i t u a l ' acceptance of this situation, even their support. Class ideologies cre-ate three images of the class that i s struggling for dom-inance: an image for i t s e l f ; an images of i t s e l f for oth-er classes, which exalts i t ; an image of i t s e l f for other classes, which devalues them i n their own eyes, drags them down, trie s to defeat them....without at shot being fired?" We can see that the ideology attempts i n a single action to immortalize his-t i c a l d i f f i c u l t i e s between groups, and to establish a sense of collective iden-t i t y which i s centered i n the outstanding qualities of a particular group within the collective. The f a l s i t y of the collective i s apparent; the notion of the collective has i t s origin i n mythic formulations of pre-technological societies i n which the ideology was intended to articulate the status of the society as a whole. Myth, i n this sense, i s the thought-structure of societies which have not undergone a delineation of classes and the attendant antagonisms. Lefebvre, i n 79 his analysis of the o r i g i n and development of ideological systems, points out that although myth (as the i l l u s o r y representations of societies l i v i n g under conditions of production which preclude the p o s s i b i l i t y of formulation of conc-139\ epts ; i s a factor i n the h i s t o r i c a l development of ideology, i t i s not iden-t i c a l to ideology. Although mythologies and similar contructions (cosmogonies and theogonies) display similar characteristics of ideology, they cannot be c l -assed as ideology because mythological societies have not yet divided into c l -asses i n their means of production, "...these constructions of the mind are more l i k e works of art more l i k e monuments than abstract systems. They belong to the same category as styles i n art history, compendia of moral wisdom, 'cultur-s 140 es'." Lefebvre suggests that ideologies result when myth becomes an element i n systems of organized r e l i g i o n : "The the images and tales are cut off from the s o i l that nourished them, the beauty of which they represented to the eye 141 and mind." Their meaning i s transformed as their use and function i s trans-formed. They are characterized by philosophical inclusiveness and t o t a l i t y , and this manifests i t s e l f i n abstractness and the increment and i n s t i t u t i o n a l i z a t i o n of the divisions between individuals, groups and classes. "The great religions were born concomitantly with the consolidation of the power of the state, the 142 formation of nations, and the r i s e of class antagonisms." Thus, ideology can be related to "myth" only i n a particular sense. Within ideological systems, myths continue to operate. As components of the system, they advance the cause of "false consciousness", and the d i v i s i o n of the genuine c o l l e c t i v e . The ideo-logy of the modern i n d u s t r i a l state stands as a prime example of how ideology reacts against knowledge and reason and how as "false consciousness" i t resorts to mystification as a means of f o r t i f y i n g i t s e l f against knowledge. Ca p i t a l i s t production has created i n a sense, beyond i t s own control (implying there-80 for i t s own i r r a t i o n a l i t y ) a class conflict which threatens i t s unitarian sec-u r i t y , the security of the ideological collective, the self-image of the system as perfectible. The demonstrable i n a b i l i t y of ideology to contend with skeptic-ism, demystification and knowledge forces i t to disguise i t s inner falseness with an absorption of conflicting forces within i t s comprehensive perspective. This i s the basis of democratic liberalism and, as one of i t s specific products, the mystification of the avant-garde. Earlier i n this essay we have seen that i t was the program of Berlin Dada to reveal the mystification of the avant-garde and Tzara's role i n extending that mystification to Dada i t s e l f . In this way, an ideology attempts to secure i t s self-image as a perfectible system by securing the context the conceptual limits of the co n f l i c t , allow-ing for contention within a prescribed frame of reference. "Modernism", as a progressive scheme of incorporated c o n f l i c t , channels and distorts the implica-tions of the d i a l e c t i c a l nature of art. Ideological thought i s thought i n the realm of necessity. Thought i s incom-plete insofar as i t i s determined by the contingent nature of the means of pro-duction (see pp. 71-72). This determined thought and action i s the necessary negation of freedom, which i s t i t a l l y self-conscious and cognisant of history as the procedure of thelcoming into being and fading away of representations and meanings. ,This Marx defines as knowledge, and this knowledge i s by d e f i n i t -ion contextual, as I have tried to show. Ideology, by denying contextual s e l f -consciousness, denies knowledge. Ideology and reason, while mingled i n ideology, are completely antagonistic. Thus, ideologies propose and maintain themselves as perfectible systems, which might need adjustment i n d e t a i l , but never revision or negation i n princ-i p l e . "This gives rise to passionate and passionately interesting discussions 81 between conservatives and innovators, dogmatists and heretics, champions of the 143 past and champions of the future." While specific contents of a particular structure are open to change, the structure i t s e l f i s maintained as a constant, which does not participate, as such, i n change. In just this sense we discussed Kosuth's notion of context, which denies the d i a l e c t i c a l relationship between the whole and i t s parts, between "form" and "content". Context as a whole must be seen as simultaneously context as a part; that i s , i t must be seen as histor-i c a l l y created and changeable by events originating wholly within i t s boundaries. These events w i l l t o t a l l y destroy the original boundaries, making the f i r s t con-ext now a closed episode i n the history of the development of a larger context. Any art work which creates a contextual rupture, such as the Readymades, begins i t s development within the frame of reference which i t w i l l supercede and rend-er obsolete. Thus the definition of art, far from being a coherent definition, i s not really even a coherent context of definitions because definitions arising from within the context or i t s definitions can cause the entire frame of reference to be reorganized. Therefore, i t i s perfectly sensible to speak of works of art which are "the negation of art", as we speak of the Readymades. Just as Marx designated the industrial proletariat of the nineteenth century as "a class whi-144 ch i s the negation of a l l classes" because a l l that was distorted i n social organization was the birthright of this particular group, we can speak of works of art which are the "dissolution of a l l art". A l l that art defines i t s e l f to be creates an edge, a horizon. Because any such horizon i s the specific creat-ion of determinate actions i n history and not an absolute category, every hori-zon,awheniit appears i n history, implies i t s own dissolution. Under this horiz-82 on axe created works which are generated t o t a l l y i n connection with this horiz-on, but which quite suddenly extend beyond i t , thereby causing not just adjust-ments i n the organization of the context, but i t s entire reorganization around new definitions. In the same sense that the nineteenth century proletariat could only realize i t s e l f i n the tot a l dissolution of the existing order, these works of art, of which the Readymades are the finest example, can only come into ex i -stence by taking as their specific content, or subject-matter, the whole of the pre-existing context which i n fact produced them. Thus with the Readymades, as with Berlin Dada,context becomes content. A new methodology i s consciously cre-ated. So we see the d i a l e c t i c a l process as being the art process, and art part-icipates, by definition, i n the "doctrine of revolution". The relation of system (methodology i n the product state) i s apparent: sys-tems have a. valid existence only when they are created with f u l l recognition of the h i s t o r i c a l nature the necessary impermanence of the horizon they estab-l i s h and maintain. Art i s .a function of knowledge. "While the mist surrounding natural phenomena are being dispelled, the mystery (the opacity) of social l i f e keeps thickening. While increasing human control over nature (technology, the division of labour) makes i t possible to elaborate nonideological concepts of physical nature, the actions of the ruling classes throw a v e i l of obscurity over social l i f e . Praxis expands i n scope, grows more com-plex and harder to grasp, while consciousness and science play an increasingly effective part i n i t . Thus i t has be-come possible for i l l u s o r y representations....to become an integral part of styles and cultures....They must now give way to knowledge. Revolutionary praxis and Marxism qua kn-owledge do away with the ideologies. According to Marx, Marxism has gone beyond ideology i t signals and hastens the end of ideology. Nor i s i t a philosophy, for i t goes beyond philosophy and translates i t into practice....It i s on the basis of conscious revolutionary praxis that thought and action are articulated d i a l e c t i c a l l y , and that knowledge 'reflects' praxis, i.e., i s constituted , as reflection on praxis. U n t i l then knowledge was charac-83 terized precisely by i t s f a i l u r e to 'reflect' r e a l i t y , ...could only....distort i t , confuse i t with i l l u s i o n s — i n short, knowledge was ideological.""145 I t was mentioned earlier that the "state of tension" or conflict i n which an individual exists i n this society might very well be the measure of the dep-th of his realization of the abyss between what exists and what i s possible, but unrealized. In light of the concept of ideology, the statement can be refor-mulated i n different terms: the level of tension for an individual i s directly proportional to the degree to which the ideological nature and sources of his thought are revealed to him. In the case of the production of art, we see that art exists i n a continuous state of conflict once the ideological nature of con-text and function of culture becomes truly apparent for the a r t i s t . The assert-ion that art exists i n a state of conflict with language (p. 4) indicates the f i e l d of art's interface with culture. I l l ART VS. CULTURE 84 "Art i s what we do; culture i s what i s done to us." Carl Andre 1 I t i s necessary to outline the notion of the ideological function of c u l t -ure. I t i s not necessary to j u s t i f y the assertion that the notion of "Culture" i s i t s e l f a product of r e i f i c a t i o n . This i s apparent throughout the discussion. In the same way i n which concrete labour becomes abstract labour, and therefore a commodity, the concrete a c t i v i t y of making art i s abstracted and becomes a similar commodity. "The products of labour become commodities, social things whose qualities are at the same time perceptible and imperceptible by the senses....But....the existence of the things qua commodities and the value relation of the products of labour which stamps them as commodities have absolutely no relation with their physical proper-ties and the material relations arising therefrom....A definite social relation between men....assumes, i n their eyes, the fantastic form of a relation between things. In order therefore, to find an analogy, we must have re-course to the mist-enveloped regions of the religious world. In this world the productions of the human brain appear as independent beings endowed with l i f e and en-tering into relations both with one another and with the human race. So i t i s i n the world of commodities with the products of men's hands. This I . c a l l the Fet-ishism which attaches i t s e l f to the products of labour as soon as they are produced as commodities, and which i s therefore inseparable from the production of commod-i t i e s . " 1 47 In the bourgeois and post-bourgeois world, "Culture" i s an abstraction and a f e t i s h i n this manner. "The pure abstractions to which men are reduced i n th-e i r social relations extends as well to intercourse with ideas....Just as each individual's relation to the market i s immediate (without his personal qualities and needs being relevant except as commodities), so his relations to God, to 148 beauty, to goodness and- to truth are relations of immediacy." Unlike the pre-"democratic" world, bourgeois culture i s equally available to a l l ; but i t i s 8 5 available in the same manner in which bourgeois "freedom" is available: in the abstract. Marx's philosophical criticism was directed at idealist conceptions of the world, and at the idealist concept of culture, which was segregated from social processes and considered superior to them: "Its decisive characteristic is the assertion of a univers-ally obligatory, eternally better and more valuable world that must be unconditionally affirmed: a world essentially different from the factual world of the daily struggle for existence, yet realizable by every individual for himself 'from within', without any transformation of the state of fact. It is only in this culture that cultural activities and objects gain that value which elevates them above the everyday sphere. Their reception becomes an act of celeb-ration and exaltation." 149 However, the modalities of alienation and reification have changed very es-sentially since the mid-nineteenth century, when Marx f i r s t formulated his ideas on culture and ideology, and have likewise changed since 1 9 3 7 , when Marcuse wr-ote "The Affirmative Character of Culture", which is basically a critique of the functioning of idealistically-oriented culture in a s t i l l classically-bour-geois world. I believe i t is valuable to maintain that Marx's analysis of alie-nation and reification, of the commodity and i t s fetishes is s t i l l basically sound, and that his insights into the contradictory, dialectical nature of his-tory and of capitalist society remain eminently workable, although, as George Lichtheim notes, they have unfortunately (but not accidentally) become part of 1 5 0 an academic discipline in the modern world. The ideology of advanced indust-r i a l society has grown out of the bourgeois ideology of the nineteenth century, but the change in the organization of society through the geometrically-proges-sing technology and the consciousness produced by technology has created a 86 new situation. Obviously, even to describe such a situation i s out of the range of this paper. Its most distinguished and controversial treatment i s Herbert Marcuse's One-Dimensional Man: Studies i n the Ideology of Advanced Industrial  Society (1964). This must be considered read i n the following discussion. Basic-a l l y , i t s thesis i s that contemporary c a p i t a l i s t society i s approaching the con-dition wherein the concrete provision of a reasonable standard of l i v i n g at the attained level of needs i s within the status of normal capability of the means of production. The incredible technological progress seems to transcend the ho-rizon of a l l previous cr i t i c i s m ; i t portends to accomplish the "end of history" (in the Marxian sense) through the normal development and refinement of i t s productive power. The contradictory aspects of i t s organization are n u l l i f i e d under the weight of the assertion of i t s material accomplishments. In accordan-ce with the preceeding discussion of ideology (and p. 1), the ideology of advan-ced technological c a p i t a l i s t society changes i t s nature. One of the central fac-tors i n this change i s the concept of class: "At i t s origins i n the f i r s t half of the nineteenth cent-ury....the critique of industrial society attained conc-reteness as a h i s t o r i c a l mediation between theoiy and practice, values and facts, needs and goals. This histor-i c a l mediation occurred i n the consciousness and i n the p o l i t i c a l action of the two great classes which faced each other i n the society: the bourgeoisie and the prole-t a r i a t . In the c a p i t a l i s t world they are s t i l l the basic classes. However, the c a p i t a l i s t development has altered the structure and function of these two classes i n such a way that they no longer appear to be agents of h i s t o r i c a l transformation. An overriding interest i n the preservat-ion and improvement of the i n s t i t u t i o n a l status quo uni-tes the former antagonists i n the most advanced areas of contemporary society. And to the degree to which technic-a l progress assures the growth and cohesion of communist society, the very idea of qualitative change recedes be-fore the r e a l i s t i c notions of a non-explosive evolution. In the absence of demonstrable agents and agencies of social change, the critique i s thus thrown back to a high level of abstraction. 1 , 15' 87 The overwhelming concrete success of the social organization, combined 152 with i t s traditional concept of "tolerance", manages to render ineffective cr-i t i c i s m of i t s operation i n principle. This situation renders obsolete for the most part the forcible silencing of principled opposition. The pre-eminent pos-i t i o n of strength occupied by the ruling class has, i n perfect hoarmony with Marx's formulation (p. 1), created a rationalized of a qualitative pervasive-ness unequalled i n history; the control of the means of int e l l e c t u a l production i s combined with extremely sophisticated media use to make possible a more tot-a l mobilization of consciousness than had ever before been accomplished. This tota l mobilization, i t i s maintained, i s the characteristic of totalitarianism; i n " l i b e r a l " theory which i s completely intertwined with the id e a l i s t cultur-a l ideology there i s a concrete region of private l i f e exempted from dominat-ion and control by the state. The abstract individual i n the ca p i t a l i s t labour process i s of interest to the controllers of the organization only insofar as the abstraction applies. The worker i s only dominated by the abstractions i n his capacity as worker; when he i s not at work he can (theoretically) exist i n a realm of freedom which i s restricted, but which within the restrictions i s reasonably intact (cf. J . S. M i l l ) . The l i b e r a l i t y presumes two important things: f i r s t , that consciousness i s s u f f i c i e n t l y mobilized i n the productive process and s u f f i c i e n t l y impotent i n other social areas, and secondly, that the current means of production have not outstripped the regions of discourse established by operative ideology. "Changes occur as soon as the preservation of the establish-ed form of the labour process can no longer gain i t s end with merely p a r t i a l mobilization (leaving the individual's private l i f e i n reserve), but rather requires 'total mobilization', through which the individual must be subjected i n a l l spheres of his existence to the discipline of the authoritarian state. 88 Now the bourgeoisie comes into conflict with i t s own culture. Total mobilization i n the era of monopoly cap-it a l i s m i s incompatible with the progressive aspects of culture centered around the idea of personality. The self-abolition of affirmative culture begins." •'•5 Marcuse suggests that advanced industrial society, energized by the same contradictions Marx pointed out i n i t s nineteenth century ancestor now raised to a much higher pitch as the process moves toward i t s h i s t o r i c a l negation, mo-nopoly capitalism has undertaken this t o t a l mobilization, and i s i n fact well along the road i n i t s applications. The development of these ideas i n their rigorously p o l i t i c a l aspects I l e -ave to the reader. We are attempting to formulate here something more specific, something which exists within the scope of the p o l i t i c a l horizon: the relation-ship between the process of art as art to culture seen as an ideological funct-ion. The terms stated for this examination were that art was to be seen as an expression of a l l that does not exist or i s denied i n culture. Art was to be seen as i n conflict with language. Society i s essentially contradictory: we have examined the structure of the labour process and discovered there the basis of a l l contradictions. Lang-uage, functioning as the "ideological reflex" performs an integrative duty for the defense of the established r e a l i t y . I f , as Marx i n s i s t s , lnaguage i s an Integral part of men's social practice, i t can be seen as an aspect of the social substructure, the material foundation of i n t e l l e c t u a l production. This, obviously, i s true only of language which v a l -i d l y reflects the relations of production. Ideological language, on the other hand, i s superstructural language i n that i t i s a barrier between real action and real language. Art i s one of the truest superstructural cultural phenomena; therefore, art and ideological language confront each other immediately i n ant-89 agonistic society. Art i s a direct antagonist to ideological language i n i t s function as knowledge (see p. 82). Art i s an aspect of labour, i n that labour i s defined as the "existential a c t i v i t y of man" by Marx. However, art i s a very particular kind of labour i n the c a p i t a l i s t world: i t i s the image of the p o s s i b i l i t y of a l l labour, the ne-gation of labour as i t exists. However, we have established the tota l importance of context i n the consideration of art. The problem of art and ideological cons-ciousness must be approached, therefore, through a further examination of the nautre of context, as i t has developed i n sophistication and complexity i n the advancement of contradictory society from the era of Marx and that of Berlin Dada to the present. In doing so, the nature of the Berlin movement as an h i s t -o r i c a l event w i l l be more completely delineated. The l i n g u i s t i c context for art i s necessarily generated by i t s dependence 154 upon society as audience, as Duchamp pointed out. Hence i t has the potentia-l i t y of becoming ideological; when this occurs, as i t has i n c a p i t a l i s t society, art must realize i t s e l f as art i n fundamental opposition to the ideological con-text. In contemporary society the outlines of context are often more d i f f i c u l t to determine than i n the society of outright c r i s i s facing the Berlin Dadaists, for, as Marcuse has established, the i d e a l i s t i c notion of culture has been fun-damentally altered. This alteration i s a twofold function, i n that much of the i d e a l i s t i c ideology has been retained i n the new context, and this combines with later developments. Where id e a l i s t culture r i g i d l y separated the higher, abstr-acted culture from the concrete world of necessity, the newer technological s t -ructure i s effecting an apparent closure of the gap. "Art" and " l i f e " , while i n actuality no closer together than ever before (and indeed i n many of the most important ways never further apart) are being subsumed under a single category, 90 which Marcuse terms the "material culture": "Today's novel feature i s the flattening out of the ant-agonism between culture and social r e a l i t y through the obliteration of the oppositional, alien, and transcendent elements i n the higher culture by virtue of which i t con-stituted another dimension of r e a l i t y . The liquidation of two-dimensional culture takes place not through the denial and rejection of the 'cultural values', but through their wholesale incorporation into the established order, through their reproduction and display on a massive scale."155 In the bourgeois-idealist era, culture as a commodity was rendered impot-ent to affect material l i f e through i t s removal to an ahistorical realm. "Cult-ure" i s analogous i n this case with Marx's "Philosophy": "Philosophy explains nothing; i t i s i t s e l f explained by hi s t o r i c a l materialism. Philosophy, a contemplative att-itude, accepts the existing. I t does not transform the world, but only interpretations of the world. The contem-plative attitude, one of the remoter consequences of the division of labour, i s a mutilated, fragmentary a c t i v i t y . Now, the true i s the whole. Philosophy cannot lay claim to being the supreme, the to t a l a c t i v i t y . The results achiev-ed by this contemplative a c t i v i t y are inconsistent with empirically-observed facts. There are no immobile absolut-es, there i s no such thing as a s p i r i t u a l beyond. Every absolute i s a mask jus t i f y i n g man's exploitation by man. Philosophical abstractions i n themselves have no value, no precise meaning. The true i s also the concrete. The propositions of philosophia perennis either are tautolog-ies without content, or receive concrete meaning from some hi s t o r i c a l empirically verifiable content. To rise above the world by pure reflection i s i n re a l i t y to remain imp-risoned i n pure reflections" 156 The bourgeois-idealist conception of culture i s irrevocably tied to that society's conception of freedom, because up to the present, culture has been identifiable with the exercise i n real l i f e of freedom. That i s , "culture", as an abstract condition of l i v i n g , i s a condition available only to those who have made concrete the bourgeois abstract concept of freedom. The abstract equ-91 a l i t y of men, created by the reduction of concrete labour i n the interest of formulating a conceptual basis for the commodity ( i . e . , the "free" hiring out of one's labour power) establishes "freedom" as an abstraction. In c a p i t a l i s t 157 practice, the freedom i s realized as concrete unfreedom and inequality. "Only a small number of men dispose of the purchasing power required for the quantity of goods necessary i n order to secure happiness. Equality does not extend to the 158 conditions for attaining the means." For the reigning nineteenth century bou-rgeoisie, just as today for the apparent new "multi-class majority", the abstr-act definition of freedom has been formulated "within the relationships of the ruling class" (see note 118); that i s , the definition of freedom was reduced to an abstraction from those previously-realized conditions which were the proper-ty of a certain group. Marx stated that ideology could exist only with the existence of the nec-essity for a certain class to represent the interests of i t s rule as "general". The abstract freedom of the bourgeois world i s an ideological construct. The positioning of art outside the predicament of concrete labour and freedom can be appreciated as a l o g i c a l and necessary development. But i n the newer context of the ideology of tot a l mobilization we perceive i t s d i f f i c u l t i e s . The Marxian critique of i d e a l i s t philosophy represents the attempt to des-troy the reign of abstraction insofar as abstraction sees i t s e l f as necessarily cut off from a c t i v i t y . The basis of Hegel's pre-eminent importance for Marx i s i n his comprehension of the abyss between abstraction and the realization of ab-straction. Hegel's insistence that there was nothing i n the universe beyond the powers of the individual mind asserted that man could know re a l i t y ; the obvious implication, made by Marx, was that, i f he knew i t , he could create i t ; to do 92 this i t was l o g i c a l l y necessary to change the world as i t existed. The abyss between the abstract realization and i t s concrete realization Marx understood as h i s t o r i c a l . Marcuse correctly perceives that the value and significance of id e a l i s t philosophy remains i n i t s constant attention to the realms which do not  exist upon earth. "...bourgeois idealism i s not merely ideology, for i t expresses a correct objective content. I t contains not only the j u s t i f i c a t i o n of the established form of exis-tence, but also the pain of i t s establishment: not only quiescence about what i t , but also remembrance of what could be. By making suffering and sorrow into great uni-versal forces, great bourgeois art has continually sha-ttered i n the hearts of men the f a c i l e resignation of everyday l i f e . . . . i t has planted real longing alongside poor consolation and false'consecration i n the s o i l of bourgeois li f e . . . . T h i s exaggeration contains the higher truth that such a world cannot be changed piecemeal, but only through i t 3 destruction. Classical bourgeois art put i t s ideal forms at such a distance from every-day occurrence that those whose suffering and hope re-side i n daily l i f e could only rediscover themselves through a leap into a t o t a l l y other world. In this way art nourished•the belief that a l l previous history had been only the dark and tragic prehistory of a coming existence. And philosophy took this idea seriously en-ough to be concerned about i t s realization. Hegel's system i s the last protest against the degradation of the idea: against playing officiously with the mind as though i t were an object that really has nothing to do 1: with human history. At least idealism maintained that the materialism of bourgeois practice i s not the last word and that mankind must be led beyond it." 159 In spite of the irreconcilable contradictions established by the i d e a l i s t philosophy as adapted by the bourgeois as ideology, i t retained i n i t s structu-re the consciousness of the difference between "essence" and "existence": stru-cturally i t simultaneously produced a nagging "existential" discontent and rem-oved the p o s s i b i l i t y of realizing the negation of that discontent. Nevertheless, idealism, especially with Hegel, i s inherently d i a l e c t i c a l . Dialectical thought, 93 as Marcuse maintains, i s negative thought, i n the sense that we have proposed i n connection with the nature of theory (pp. 67-68). That which " i s there" i s seen as "there" only i n connection with the process of i t s becoming, so that a l l significance of any particular fact, object or situation emanates from the t o t a l i t y to which i t belongs. While i d e a l i s t culture continually denies or postpones concrete g r a t i f i c a -tion, i t s d i a l e c t i c a l origins keep alive the notion of an alternative. Art's role i n this i s apparent: the i d e a l i s t conception of happiness contains i t s po-t e n t i a l to motivate revolt. Idealist r e l i g i o n and philosophy were consistent i n their aversion to this notion. Happiness was therefore the province of art, wh-ose subject remained "Ideal Beauty". Unlike theory, "the beauty of art i s comp-atible with the bad present, despite and within which i t can afford happiness."^ Unlike theory, art can be subjected to r e i f i c a t i o n ; i t has the potential to cr- eate i t s own r e a l i t y , i t s own universe outside of history, i n which the specta-tor can become absorbed i n an act of "consolation" for the continuously wretch-ed present. ("In a world without happiness....happiness cannot but be a consol-ation: the consolation of a beautiful moment i n an interminable chain of mis-f o r t u n e . " ^ ) Consequently, the project of bourgeois-idealist art i s the "immor-tal i z a t i o n of the ephemeral". The f a m i l i a r i t y of these sentiments as expressed even i n casual discussion about art even i n the immediate present need.not be stressed. Consolation i s d i a l e c t i c a l i n nature. The enjoyment of "happiness" (or any of the other abstractions) i s permitted only i n spiritualized form, but "ideal-ization annuls happiness. For the ideal cannot be enjoyed, since a l l pleasure i s foreign to i t and would destroy the rigor and purity that must adhere to i t i n idealless r e a l i t y i f i t i s to be able to carry out i t s internalizing, d i s c i -94 162 p l i n i n g function." Therefore idealism i n a single action creates desire, an image of freedom, and, more deeply veiled, the corresponding image of revolt and s t i f l e s and perverts these impulses. Its art i s a painfully perfect image of frustration, and i t s inevitable companion, mystification. Here the medium of beauty remains aneillusion, an abstraction. It i s an i l l u s i o n of r e a l i t y , and as such has the potential to participate i n the d i a l e c t i c a l operation of art as a function of knowledge (in that every i l l u s i o n can be self-conscious). The bour-geois-idealist context subverts this potential: the beautiful world represented i n art can exist only i n a s t r i c t l y delimited and controlled frame of reference. The p o s s i b i l i t y of making "a leap into a t o t a l l y other world" i s suppressed, as f a r as concrete a c t i v i t y i s concerned, and the significance of this art i s then completely controlled. Bourgeois-idealist art retains the notion of the potent-i a l break with r e a l i t y , even though the re a l i z a t i o n of this break i s prohibited by the enforced context. German Expressionism and Berlin Dada's c r i t i c a l destr-uction of i t should be seen i n this frame of reference. In i t s public, inflamm-atory character, Dada put into practice the truth of i t s theory that the c u l -tural ideology of the Germans was the ultimate degradation of the art process. With Duchamp, the Berlin Dadaists were the f i r s t to find their subject-ma-tter i n the contemporary art-process as such; they understood the c r i t i c i s m i n -herent i n art as art. The ephemerality of the art work produced i n Berlin, with the exceptionof Grosz, acts as a witness to the acute h i s t o r i c i t y of the move-ment. Like Duchamp*s Readymades, the actual work of the Berlin most particu-l a r l y the periodicals exist only i n terms of history, and are for a l l s i g n i f -icant purposes outside the realm of aesthetics proper, except as a kind of c r i -tique of the process of developing aesthetic canons. The Bottle Rack depends fo r i t s importance upon history, and nothing more; the a r t i f a c t s of B e r l i n i n t -95 erest us i n aesthetic terms, but only peripherally, i n contrast to Ernst for example, "...they have come down to us as documents relating to one episode of action and struggle and nothing more. They are arms abandoned on the f i e l d of 163 battle. What i s important i s now hidden elsewhere..." In the sudden awarene-ss of history and process, the object fades from prominence, i n 1919 as i n l a t -er periods. I t i s true to say that the significance of the Bottle Rack depends not at a l l i n i t s presence as an object; indeed, i t i s one of the most important objects i n the art of the twentieth century, though very few people have actual-l y experienced i t as any more than a photographic reproduction, that i s , as i d -ea. The revolution of Duchamp and Berlin Dada the discovery of the methodol-ogy of the negation of art by art was obviously the result of a d i a l e c t i c a l c r i s i s . Their art was the result of a t o t a l not p a r t i a l contextual challen-ge; the t o t a l i t y of their challenge, and their success at making i t good, effe-ctively destroyed the i d e a l i s t outlook, the false "innocence" of works of art. For the f i r s t time, art self-consciously threw i t s fate to the h i s t o r i c a l proc-? ess. The i l l u s i o n that art stood away from history, mastered history i n being cut off from i t , was shattered. This success stemmed from the a b i l i t y of Duchamp and the Berlin Dadaists to formulate accurately the terms of a confrontation. These people conceived that art as art denied the fragmentary truth of ideology. The art context of 1919 was ideological, but the a r t i s t ' s consciousness became contextual when the material world overwhelmed the organized truth; i n this sense the war was a ca-talyst for Dada. "Reality" and "Appearance" were thrown into sharp focus one against the other. In Marx's terms, action created a surfeit of language; ideo-logy, as a restricted region of l i n g u i s t i c a l l y structured "truths" was revealed. 96 In this extreme condition, the art of Duchamp and the Berlin group realized i t -self as knowledge; concurrently i t realized that knowledge was not something simply different from ideology and controlled categories. I t saw that knowledge was actively antagonistic to ideology. The new practice of art created a new theory. The l i m i t s of this new theory are indicated i n the situation of art i n advanced industrial society. To specify these l i m i t s , i t i s necessary to see how the ideology of this society differs from the that of 1919 Europe. The i d e a l i s t i c origins of bourgeois culture insured that a d i a l e c t i c tens-ion would persist i n cultural ideology even when the conditions for i t s r e a l i z -ation were eliminated. Although concrete alternatives to the established r e a l i -ty were s t i f l e d , the abstract notion of an alternative remained i n the unmista-keable gap between the condition indicated by art and that of material society. As Marx showed, a society which i s based i n contradiction must develop through contradiction: contradiction i s at once i t s energy and the source of i t s event-ual annihilation. Advanced cap i t a l i s t society renders "the struggle for exist-ence and the exploitation of man and nature ever more s c i e n t i f i c and rational."^' The sophistication of the organization of this society, i n accordance with i t s principles, produces a higher standard of l i v i n g and at the same time an inten-s i f i e d structure of exploitation, mobilization, and ideologization. Marcuse su-ggests that the manner i n which this i s being accomplished i s very similar to the p o s i t i v i s t philosophical procedure, i . e . , the quantification of man and na-ture. "The quantification of nature, which led to i t s explic-ation i n terms of mathematical structures, separated r e a l -i t y from a l l inherent ends and, consequently, separated the true from the good, science from ethics. No matter how s c i -ence may now define the objectivity of nature and the inter-97 re la t ion among i t s parts, i t cannot sc i en t i f i ca l l y con-ceive i t i n terms of ' f i n a l causes' . 1 , 1 65 The mode of thinking underlying the technological rationalism of soph is t i -cated indust r ia l capital ism i s correspondent i n many important ways to the n in-eteenth century posit ivism of men l i ke Auguste Comte, who insisted*that his task was to organize " fac ts " . The facts were seen as the data of immediate exp- erience ; the world i s considered as "given". We sha l l see that th is gesture i s the to ta l ant i thesis of d ia lec t i ca l thought, which i s by nature negative. "It had been the fundamental conviction of idealism that truth i s not given to man from some external source but originates i n the process of interact ion between thought and rea l i t y , theory and pract ice. The function of thought was not merely to co l lec t , comprehend and order fac ts , h& but also to contribute a qual i ty that rendered such act -i v i t y possible, a qual i ty that was thus a_ p r io r i to the fac ts . A decisive portion of the human world therefore consisted, the idea l i s ts held, of elements that could not be ver i f ied by observation. Posit iv ism repudiated th is doctrine, slowly replacing free spontaneity of thought with predominantly repet i t ive functions. This was not me-rely a matter of epistemology. The i dea l i s t i c idea of re-ason,. . .has been i n t r i n s i c a l l y connected with the idea of freedom and had opposed any notion of a natural necessity ru l ing over society. Posi t ive philosophy tended instead to equate the study of society with the study of nature, so that natural science, par t icu lar ly biology, became the archetype of soc ia l theory. . . .This posit ion d i rec t ly con^~ tradicted the view held by d ia lec t i ca l soc ia l theory, th-at society i s i r ra t iona l precisely i n that i t i s governed by natural l a w s . " 1 ^ Thus, the world becomes, i n Wittgenstein's words, " a l l that i s the case." I t i s inadvisable to become involved i n an expl icat ion of posit ivism per se he-re; the implications of pos i t i v i s t thought for d ia lec t i ca l theory are amply br-168 ought out by Professor Karcuse. The point i s that the pos i t i v i s t i c interpre-tat ion of society forms part and a cruc ia l part of the dominant interpret-98 ation made by contemporary ca p i t a l i s t society of the basis of i t s own actions. Furthermore, Marcuse i n s i s t s that this positivism has become an "operationalist" ration a l i t y , one i n which "objects", "situations", "beings" are understood p r i -169 marily i n terms of what can be done with them. Phenomena of the external wo-r l d tend to give up their "being-as-such" especially their d i a l e c t i c a l being-as-such for existence as instruments i n a structure of action which i s t o t a l -l y liberated from questions regarding notions of substance and value. These qu-estions are categorized as originating from a foreign context, whose questions are therefore considered meaningless i n that they transgress the limits of the established context. This i s , i n a sense, tautological, for, with the context under total acceptance, each statement made within i t i n effect verifies i t s e l f . This kind of self-validating, tautological method i s particularly useful i n i d -eological schemata, because i'tsiattitiide toward context i s identical to that of the general process of ideology, "...proved i n i t s effectiveness;} this concept-ion works as an a p r i o r i — i t predetermines experience, i t projects the direct-170 ion of the transformation of nature, i t organizes the whole." In the operat-io n a l i s t context Marcuse describes, the external world tends to lose integrity as an independent realm, with which man and thought interact. In opposition to to i d e a l i s t i c idea that subject and object related to each other i n a state of 171 tension, "saturated with concreteness", i n which "even the most monistic sys-tem maintained the idea of a substance which unfolds i t s e l f i n subject and obj-172 ect the idea of an antagonistic r e a l i t y " , the " s c i e n t i f i c " theory of modern technological development undermines the tension, participates i n effect, i n a dematerialization of nature. As the external world i s made more and more an ob-ject of abstracted manipulation i n the pressure of intensifying class-based co-ntradictions i n the productive process, the more i r r a t i o n a l the state of fact becomes. Ideologically, technological society resolves this problem, or attempts 99 to resolve i t by subsuming the problematic external world into the process of abstraction "...as the extended matter becomes comprehensible i n mathematical equations which, translated into technology, 'remake' this matter, the res ext-173 ensa loses i t s character as an independent substance." This i s similar to the inverted character of Hegel's di a l e c t i c : "...thought which i s alienated and ab-stract. .. .ignores real nature and man....Nature i s external to i t , loss of i t -s e l f , and i s only conceived as something external, as abstract thought, but a l -174 ienated abstract thought." The abstractions to which technological rational thought reduces " r e a l i t y " must be seen as the outcome of h i s t o r i c a l conditions. Like that of Comte, this kind of thought i s bound to "constantly establish and f o r t i f y the in t e l l e c t u a l order which....is the indispensible basis of a l l v e r i -175 table order." Comte's abstractions are reduced from the concrete social and material existence of a determinate group, and the understanding of the abstra-ctions and action upon the understanding i s naturally entrusted to experts cre-ated by the class i t s e l f : "Social questions, because of their complicated natu-176 re, must be handled 'by a small group of int e l l e c t u a l e l i t e ; ' " Unlike d i a l e c t i c a l thought, technological rationalist thought assumes that men are free by ignoring the existence of alienation i n the labour process. The dialect i c procedure begins from the consciousness of alienation on concrete, social grounds; concomitantly, i t perceives the unreality of the established so-c i a l organization. Therefore, i t perceives the unreality of the world as a whole, because particularly when technology i s very sophisticated the world i s the reflection of the men and history which has made i t . D ialectical thought under-stands the term "process of existence" and i t s distinction from " r e a l i t y " as an immutable meridian of fact, (cf. Wittgenstein's Tractatus: "The t o t a l i t y of ex-100 i s t i n g states of af f a i r s also determines which states of affair s do not exist." 177 "The world i s determined by the facts, and by their being a l l the facts.") Like Lenin's famous " d i a l e c t i c a l " water-glass, the facts have existence as the particular results of particular stages of a process. Any independent existence given them i s necessarily a r t i f i c i a l , the result of the contingencies of speci-f i c operations, l i k e controlled s c i e n t i f i c experiments, and so forth. I t i s this unself-conscious independent condition of the facts which i s achieved by r a t i o -n a l i s t technological thought. Thus the subject and object seem to be independent of one another, and the external world appears as immutably alien and " d i f f e r -ent". This, combined with the impulse to quantification generated by structur-alized control of the "object", produces the subject as a specific kind of ob- ject. And the definition of the world of objects i s carried out i n terms of what forces i t reacts to "We are defining matter as a possible object of man's ma-178 nipulation." Wittgenstein (whom Marcuse castigates as a representative of positive philosophy) has suggested that, although that which i s beyond language must be passed over i n silence, this does not imply i n any way that i t does not exist ("There are indeed things which cannot be put into words. They make them-179 selves manifest. They are what i s mystical." ) In contradistinction to this, the p o s i t i v i s t rationalism of the technological world i s committed to the crea-tion of a .structurally-complete r e a l i t y , i n which ideologically that which cannot be formulated i n the language of this rational r e a l i t y , cannot be of co-nsequence . The principles of this technocratic theory of advanced ca p i t a l i s t society are "pure" i n that, because of the abstractness which i s a result of their his-t o r i c a l development, they do not necessarily espouse one implementation over 101 another. That i s , as Marcuse suggests, they do not seem to imply domination as such, do not "by nature" imply i t . "However, there i s no such thing as domination per se. As theory proceeds, i t abstracts from, or rejects, a factual teleological context that i s the given, concrete universe of discourse and action. It i s within this universe i t s e l f that the s c i e n t i f i c project occurs or does not occur, that theory conceives or does not conceive the possible a l t e r -natives, that i t s hypotheses subvert or extend the pre-est-ablished reality." 180 Therefore, i t i s i n their own pureness that they are impure. Technological theory refuses to admit i t s h i s t o r i c a l context. This context insure that i t s ab-stract formulations would be structured to contribute perfectly to the motive forces of the contradictory h i s t o r i c a l r e a l i t y ; naturally, this precluded the po s s i b i l i t y that technological theory could be cognisant of that h i s t o r i c a l re-a l i t y which i t was created to serve. "Theoretical reason, remaining pure and neutral, entered into the service of practical reason. The merger proved beneficial to both. Today, domination perpetuates and ex-tends i t s e l f not only through technology as technology, but the la t t e r provides the great legitimation of the ex-panding p o l i t i c a l power, which absorbs a l l spheres of cu l -ture.... In this universe, technology also provides the great rationalization of the unfreedom of man and demon-strates the 'technical' impossibility of being autonomous, of determining one's own l i f e . For this unfreedom appears neither as i r r a t i o n a l nor as p o l i t i c a l , but rather as sub-mission to the technical apparatus which enlarges the com-forts of l i f e and increases the productivity of labour." 18 1 Science per se does not become ideology, i f by "science" i s meant specific propositions regarding subjects such as the structure of matter, energy and so on. However, i t i s Marx's claim that science has never existed per se, and that the abstractions of science take on significance as components i n an h i s t o r i c a l 102 project because this i s i n fact their context. Pure science, l i k e pure philoso-phy, theology, ethics, etc., becomes ideological because the claims to purity obliterate i t s contextual nature. The symbols of abstract science become analo-gous to the "barrier" of religious thought, for example, i n that they assert their absolute character. The reflexive character of ideology presents i t s e l f i n the image of s c i e n t i f i c prediction. Again, the ideology i t s e l f i s f u l l of tension, for i t i s obvious that the discoveries of science open new horizons and create a surfeit of language which tends to oppose ideology. This, however, runs into cancellation when the entire spectrum of p o s s i b i l i t i e s and projects i s determined beforehand, i n connection with the needs of a specific social organization. The context of s c i e n t i f i c work creates a horizon of assumptions i n which the valid hypotheses of science or, philosophy take on significance, i n which they become common property i n the lives of people, "...science, by virtue of i t s own methods and concepts, has pr-ojected and promoted a universe i n which the domination of nature has remained linked to the domination of man....Nature, s c i e n t i f i c a l l y comprehended and mas-tered, reappears i n the technical apparatus of production and destruction which sustains and improves the l i f e of the individuals while subordinating them to t 182 the masters of the apparatus." Abstractions, as Marx pointed out, never exist independently of practice, of the concrete relationships which they schematize. Abstract science i s a dev-elopment from such concrete relations, and we have seen that the logic of these relations has been the logic of domination, and therefore an ideology. "What appeared extreneous, foreign to the theoretical project, shows forth as part of i t s very structure (methods and concepts): pure objectivity reveals i t s e l f as 103 183 object for a subjectivity which provides the Telos, the ends." In this cont-ext, "technology has become the great vehicle of r e i f i c a t i o n . . . . i n i t s most ma-184 ture and effective form." Unlikesearlier bourgeois structures, the world do-es not appear the product of chance operations and blind necessity, but i t s l o -gic i s presented clearly as that of technological p o s s i b i l i t y : what can be acc-omplished i s that which i s to be done. The facts, divorced from the h i s t o r i c a l factors, reign unchallenged. The operationalist tone of the facts creates an "administered world", with i t s supply of experts, each of whom serve a context. The apparently objective empirical world of fact i s therefore ideological; the empiricism i s total and the realm of fact cannot, by i t s own definition, be t r -anscended . This non-transcendent realm i s anti-dialectic. Just as Hegel subverted the pos s i b i l i t y for d i a l e c t i c a l thought to realize i t s e l f i n i t s proper realm the world of practice—-by placing both "poles" of the movement, so to speak, with-i n that which i s only a single pole " S p i r i t " the ant i - d i a l e c t i c a l world of thought seems to separate subject and object, but really destroys the dynamic logic of this separation. Its separation of subject and object renders the two components absolutely distinct on the one hand, and on the other i t tends to subsume the "object" the sensuous, external world i n a series of pure abst-ractions; i n other words, creates the object only as an extension of the funct-ion of the subject. Or (and at the same time) i t renders the subject as no more than a particular kind of object (as mentioned above, p. 100), a sophistication of the basic c a p i t a l i s t procedure of treating men as commodities. Conflict i s eliminated; organization and manipulation of structures takes i t s place. In philosophy, abstract structuralism makes i t s e l f known i n linguis-t i c analysis. We have outlined the Marxian critique of this attitude toward lan-104 185 guage previously. Marx's concept and use of language i s c r i t i c a l ; just as phi-losophy i n comprehending the world i s a critique of the world, language, while a representation of practice, retains the capacity to abstract from, and c r i t i c i z e practice. Dialectical thought and language are thus "transcendent" i n that the relation established between subject and object i s dynamic: language renders pr-actice an object for analysis and at the same time, as a product of practice, i t s e l f can become an object for analysis. This implies different language levels. The Marxian critique of li n g u i s t i c analysis (which Marcuse carries out i n 186 part ) i s based upon the fact that this philosophical system proceeds to ana-lyze "common language" as i t i s found to be i n existence. In this sense common language philosophy takes language to be " a l l that i s the case". Dialectic an-alysis understands language as a system produced by man i n the same gesture as producing the world, society. Therefore, i t can never be " a l l that i s the case", just as a tradition, an i n s t i t u t i o n , an association can never be so, and i n the sense that the orbit of the moon, for example, can be so. The significance of language i s that i t i s not the case; Marcuse maintains that, i n common linguis-t i c use, the crucial sphere i s that which i s not stated, the "deep structure" of 18 structural assumptions which constitutes the generative nature of the language. The refusal or i n a b i l i t y to distinguish between ordinary and philosophical language i s attacked by Marcuse on the grounds that common language i s language 188 acting as an apparent object; for reasons of efficiency i n the conduct of daily l i f e an entire range and dimension i s eliminated from consideration i n the practical use of this language. Philosophical language, however, aims at bring-ing to the surface i n practice the entirety of i t s nature, "...exactness and c l a r i t y cannot be attained within the universe of ordinary discourse. The p h i l -osophic concepts aim at a dimension of fact and meaning which elucidates the 105 phrases or words of ordinary discourse. Or, i f the subject of ordinary discour-se i t s e l f becomes the object of philosophical analysis, the language of philos-189 ophy becomes a 1meta-language1." As Wittgenstein suggests, "A thing cannot 190 be at the same time a measure and the thing measured." Marcuse, as a Marxist, objects that l i n g u i s t i c analysis, l i k e a l l alienated philosophy, removes i t s e l f and i t s subject from the universal medium of the formation of concepts and wor-ds. "The philosopher, himself an abstract form of alienated man, sets himself 191 up as the measure of the alienated world." Positive language philosophy, with an a n t i - d i a l e c t i c a l methodology and approach, binds i t s e l f to the explication, the admittedly precise and detailed description of something which, to the dia-l e c t i c thinker, i n a sense does not exist. One i s reminded from a line from Ge-net 's Our Lady of the Flowers: "I lived i n the midst of an i n f i n i t y of holes i n the form of men." Dialectical analysis brings forward the history of everyday language and everyday constructs "as a hidden dimension of meaning the rule of 192 society over i t s language." Language i s constantly stressed as a social phen-omenon, i n which every de t a i l i s generated by determinate factors, even the i n -determinate details. In p o s i t i v i s t analysis the context exists as a l o g i c a l a p r i o r i under which a l l content i s judged. "But this radical acceptance of the empirical violates the empirical, for i n i t speaks the mutilated, 'abstract' individual who experiences (and expresses) only that wh-ich i s given to him (given i n a l i t e r a l sense), who has only the facts and not the factors, whose behaviour i s one-dimensional and manipulated. By virtue of the fact-ual repression, the experienced world i s the result of restricted experience, and the p o s i t i v i s t cleaning of the mind brings the mind i n line with restricted exper-i e n c e . " 1 ^ The closing of context i s apparent, and the closed context i s important for what i t excludes. Marcuse indicates examples of regions of thought relegat-106 194 ed to the status of " f i c t i o n " or "myth", and asserts that, i n accordance with the theory of ideology, there i s no reason why rational thought or true consc-iousness cannot at times be pressured into the category of myth. This can occur when i t s antithesis reaches a level of ideological productivity wherein grand contexts are tightly controlled (administration of universities, publishing hou-ses, i n s t i t u t i o n a l associations, teaching, 7etc.). D i a l e c t i c a l , negative thought i s i t s e l f negated by positive thought when positive thought holds the reifying power. Obviously, the level of forcible suppression s h i f t s ; i t i s apparent to a l l that every d i a l e c t i c a l , negative, revolutionary ideafls freely available i n certain sectors of advanced ca p i t a l i s t society. This a v a i l a b i l i t y denies the assertion that i n t e l l e c t u a l suppression i s practiced. But the denial i s i t s e l f annihilated when the truth of the Marxian idea that theory and practice must not be separated i s understood. In the controlled contextual scene of ideologic-a l culture, ideas separated from practice i n fact serve the ideology by destr-oying i t i i i the abstract. The world i t s e l f i s not changed, but descriptions of i t are changed. The Marxian concept of language renders l i n g u i s t i c analysis as i t exists transparent as a function of ideology, simultaneously produced by false consci-ousness and continuing and intensifying i t . Common language takes on sense only when i t i s comprehended i n the clear light of the factors which bring i t about. True consciousness and therefore true language study makes the established 195 language "speak what i t conceals or excludes." The h i s t o r i c a l condition of advanced industrial society challenges true consciousness. In the controlled context of ideology, thinking implies recogni-tion of the contradictions. Contemporary society, as mentioned e a r l i e r , cannot be seen d i a l e c t i c a l l y u n t i l the contradictory nature of i t s energy i s recogniz-107 ed; at the same time this contradictory nature makes i t s e l f known through d i a l -e c t i c a l consciousness. Dialectical thought, because of Marx's work, i s inheren-t l y h i s t o r i c a l . Likewise, the dial e c t i c of art, because of Berlin Dada and Duchamp, i s h i -s t o r i c a l . The task facing Duchamp and the Berlin Dadaists was to take the e n t i -rety of the art context as their subject-matter. They were producing the new  system, which supervenes the old. Their a c t i v i t i e s l a i d the foundation for a t o t a l l y new definition of art. This definition, as we have seen (pp. 81-82) i s not a s p e c i f i c a l l y delimited zone of a c t i v i t y ; rather i t i s a negative d e f i n i t -196 ion, or, i n Peckham's terms, an empty category, one which i s f i l l e d with the content which becomes necessary i n relation to current praxis and the abstract-ions which can be made out of i t (which necessarily generate both c r i t i c a l and anticipatory functions). However, the empty category i s not necessarily i n f i n -i t e ; the notion of the empty category might, on the other hand, generate a lim-i t l e s s method, as Jack Burnham points out i n a discussion of Robert Morris' work: "Earlier I mentioned that Morris has....transcended.... Duchampian strategies rather than revert to Duchampian forms. Quite obviously no one can choose another ur i n a l . Such an act carries not one iota of recognition ( i . e . , re-evaluation of the art situation). But there are other choices that can be made. One i s the act of 'bracketing' a l l art sub-sets so that art i s demonstrably seen to be a closed and exhausted category. When i t i s demonstrated that the art structure merely demands that a r t i s t s i n -vent a new sub-set or sub-sub-set ( i . e . , environmental systems, fabricated objects, piles of materials, paint-ings, sculptures, f i l e cards, motion pictures, or any other entity) then once and for a l l the art category i s closed. Perception of art's structure, as Levi-Strauss implies, dissipates art's societal function. Once the limits of the category are understood, or bracketed, c@ then a l l further a c t i v i t y i s residual, merely existing 108 for collectors and museum directors. Only by redefining  art away from i t s present focussing, tautological cond- i t i o n can the art category be made open again."157 This i s c r u c i a l . Duchamp's discoveries showed that whenever a new system i s created, the old remains as a r t i f a c t , a depleted energy-source. Wo new syst-em can claim infinitude because i t lives by the d i a l e c t i c a l principle. That i s , every empty category w i l l by definition have to become closed: this i s the s i g -nificance of these categories i n history. The empty category or new context cr-eated by Duchamp and the Berlin Dadaists i s i n i t s own turn closed as later ar-t i s t s ' practice includes a tot a l definition of their f i e l d of action. This con-text, as we have seen, was the bourgeois-idealist culture and i t s ideology. The new post-bourgeois culture has established a new ideology, which l i k e -wise includes a completed definition of the old. That i s , advanced industrial society or, more precisely, the ideologists who conceptualize i t s i l l u s i o n s — -understands d i a l e c t i c a l thought very well. The newer p o s i t i v i s t i c technologic-a l thinking i s a specific repudiation of the d i a l e c t i c a l qualities residual i n bourgeois-idealist culture, qualities which kept i n view the possiblity of an alternative existence. The new context includes a tot a l definition of the old: advanced industrial society makes i t s e l f an "empty category" i n a sense, with the moves ideology makes to prolong the l i f e of i t s energy source r e i f i e d con-tradiction. The destruction of dial e c t i c thought i s a necessary condition of the operation of this society: denial not only of the alternatives, but also of the consciousness which conceives the alternatives even i n the abstract. Art replenishes i t s e l f only through total revolution. As Burnham says above, an open category can be created not by extension or reform of treatment of a sp-e c i f i c context, but only by the establishment of a completely new context. There 109 i s no other method available. The entire range of categories i n contemporary society i s created and stimulated by alienation; alienation i s the force which makes society run, which runs the process of production. Art, as long as i t en-tertains any notions about making i t s e l f consequential i n the world, continually redirects i t s e l f i n accordance with the formulations of alienation. Ideology at-tains f l e x i b i l i t y through i t s method. Art does not manage to stand against soc-iety today even i n i t s most radical gestures. The reception of Duchamp's Fount- ain or of Hausmann and Huelsenbeck1s Central European tour of 1920 i s not repe-ated i n connection with the "revolutionary" art of today. The context has shif-ted; i t i s confronted with new ideological problems. The Fountain collided with an ideology already beginning to f a i l (1917): i t can be seen as evidence of the surfeit of practice i n the world at the time. The bourgeois-idealist ideology had been revealed as other than the world: the Fountain or the Bottle Rack ind-icate the depth of the ingression of praxis into verbal l i f e the degree of penetration of knowledge into ideology. Like the Berlin Dada movement which must be considered as a work of art the Readymade brings the non-existent cr-ashing into the safely-delimited world of "the facts". In the light of this ex-plosion, "a world i s revealed", the old category i s revealed as irrevocably c l -osed. Marcuse maintains that the nature of art as art makes i t possible for art to retain i t s negating quality i n the face of apparently tota l contextual cont-v. r o i . This i s because, just to make art at a l l the a r t i s t must more or less consciously recognize his consciousness for what i t i s : contextual and histo-r i c a l . Every a r t i s t struggles with the influence of other a r t i s t s . A r t i s t i c a l -ienation i s mediated, conscious alienation, alienation at a higher, more abstr-acted, self-conscious l e v e l . 110 In the i d e a l i s t culture of the bourgeois world, art remained a coherent vehicle of alienation, "sustaining and protecting the contradiction....They (the arts) were a rational, cognitive force, revealing a dimension of man and nature 198 which was repressed and repelled i n r e a l i t y . " The primary characteristic of bourgeois-idealist culture i s i t s difference from everyday l i f e . The museum, concert-hall and theatre were special occasions. "Now this essential gap between the arts and the order of the day, kept open i n the a r t i s t i c alienation, i s progressiv-ely closed by advancing technological society. And with i t s closing, the Great Refusal i s i n turn refused; the 'other dimension' i s absorbed into the prevailing state of a f f a i r s . The works of alienation are themselves incorporated into this society and circulate as part and parcel of the equip-ment which adorns and psychoanalyzes the prevailing state of a f f a i r s . Thus they become commercials they s e l l , comfort, or excite." 199 The reserved realm of i d e a l i s t culture removed art from material l i f e , but at the same time i t insured that the negative aspect of the remoteness would »• survive. "...this remoteness has been removed and with i t the transgression and the indictment....The a r t i s t i c alien-ation has become as functional as the architecture of the new theatres and concert halls where i t i s performed.... the cultural center i s becoming a f i t t i n g part of the sh-opping center, or the municipal center, or government center....It i s good that everyone can now have the fine arts at his fingertips, by just turning a knob on his set, or by just stepping into his drugstore. In this d i -ffusion, however, they become cogs i n a culture-machine which remakes their content."200 Marcuse articulates a crucial truth; upon i t hinges the understanding of art's content i n the twentieth century. In an ideological context, the social  function of the art work essentially transforms—or determines—its meaning. 111 The revolutionary move of Duchamp and the Berlin Dadaists established the awar-eness of the truth of this as the center of their methodology. Art becomes s i g -n i f i c a n t only when i t enters language and becomes an influence. Therefore i t i s true that the nature of the art's entry into language determines the influence i t has i t s "content". In a frame of reference which i s genuinely open "two-dimensional", i n Marcuse's terms a d i s t o r t i o n of the intended content w i l l not necessarily take place, because there i s no overriding system which must be served above a l l other considerations. However, i n the ideological context cru-c i a l aspects of content are obliterated i n the process of the work's entry into language, or culture. In the manner i n which art works function i n society res-ts t h e i r meaning, content and significance. The work, as content, then, i s tot-a l l y empty i n the one-dimensional ideology: i t awaits r e i f i e d society's verdict on i t s e l f . This i s the l i m i t of Duchamp's notion about the participation of the spectator put forward i n "The Creative Act". This substitution of the "empty work" for the empty category i s character-i s t i c of the operationalist structure Marcuse discusses. The "empty work" i s an icon for every ideology. As such, i t can be seen as a component i n the process of the dominance of "closed categories", the maintenance of codified frames of reference. The methodology of Berlin Dada and Duchamp i s e n t i r e l y v a l i d . As Burnham says, Duchampian strategies motivate the most advanced art of our time. The c r -i t i c a l difference l i e s i n the "angle" taken by the method. The strategy determ-ined that art necessarily assert i t s contradictory character. The contradictory character of art i n 1916-1919 determined that i t rupture the i d e a l i s t i c distance and establish i t s e l f as a function of material culture. As Duchamp stated at the time, "The best works of art America has produced are her plumbing and her brid-112 g e s . " ; t h e r e m o v a l o f a r t f r o m t h e m o v e m e n t o f c o n c r e t e c u l t u r e was t o b e d e s t ^ r o y e d . B u t we s e e t h a t c u l t u r e a n d i d e o l o g y h a v e s h i f t e d g r o u n d c o n s i d e r a b l y . T h e i n t e g r a t i o n o f a r t i n t o l i f e h a s b e c o m e now a f u n c t i o n o f i d e o l o g y . D u c h a m p ' s " s u c c e s s " , a n d t h a t o f a r t i s t s c a r r y i n g o u t p r o g r a m s r e l a t e d t o h i m ( f o r e x a m p -l e , J o h n s , R a u s c h e n b e r g , W a r h o l a n d M o r r i s ) m u s t b e s e e n i n t h e l i g h t o f t h e f a c t t h a t t h e c r e a t i o n o f e x t r e m e s e l f - c o n s c i o u s n e s s i n t h e a r t - o b j e c t ( a n a c h -i e v e m e n t o f t h e h i s t o r i c a l c o n s c i o u s n e s s o f D u c h a m p a n d B e r l i n D a d a ) h a s b e e n i n t e g r a t e d c o n s i d e r a b l y . H i s t o r i c a l s e l f - c o n s c i o u s n e s s b e c o m e s " a r t a b o u t a r t " . T h e mode o f a l i e n a t i o n h a s c h a n g e d ; i n s o c i e t y , t h e m o r e t h e a r t o b j e c t r e s e m -b l e s t h e l a n d s c a p e o f e v e r y d a y l i f e t h e b e t t e r . T h e i m p e t u s t o " g e t a r t o u t o f t h e m u s e u m s " i s c r i t i c a l i n t h e p r e s e n t , b u t i t b a l a n c e s o n a t h i n e d g e . T o c l -a r i f y : t h e c r e a t i o n o f a p a r t i c i p a t i v e c u l t u r e , i n w h i c h t h e s p e c t a t o r / p a r t i c i -p a n t b e c o m e s t h e t r u e s u b j e c t o f c u l t u r e , i s a n a b s o l u t e n e c e s s i t y i n t h e a t t e -m p t t o d e s t r o y a l i e n a t i o n f r o m t h e c u l t u r a l a r e n a . T o a c h i e v e t h i s , t h e p a s s i v e c o n s u m e r c u l t u r e o b j e c t i f i e d b y t h e museum m u s t b e d e s t r o y e d , a n d t h e s t a t u s o f t h e museum a n d s i m i l a r i n s t i t u t i o n s r e d e f i n e d . H o w e v e r , t h e m o v i n g o f a r t " i n t o t h e s t r e e t " i s a d i f f i c u l t o p e r a t i o n b e c a u s e , w h i l e t h e museum c u l t u r e t e n d s t o s t i f l e t h e l i v i n g a s p e c t s o f a r t , o l d a n d n e w , i t p r o t e c t e d , i n t h e b o u r g e o i s -i d e a l i s t s e n s e , t h a t r e m o t e n e s s . T h e r e f o r e , i f a r t i s t o move f u r t h e r i n t o t h e m a t e r i a l c u l t u r e , i t m u s t d o s o o n l y i n f u l l a w a r e n e s s o f t h e a n t a g o n i s m a n d s u b v e r s i o n w h i c h a w a i t s i t . F o r e x a m p l e , t h e m u c h - p r a i s e d a l l i a n c e o f a r t a n d " t e c h n o l o g y " h a s p r o d u c e d n o t h i n g b u t a d v e r t i s e m e n t f o r t e c h n o c r a t i c g a d g e t r y , a n d f o r g o o d r e a s o n s . T h e a r t was c o m p l e t e l y a b s o r b e d , i t s c o n t e n t was a b s o l u t -e l y o b l i t e r a t e d a n d i t i s s e r v i l e . I n t h e s o c i e t y o f a d v a n c e d a l i e n a t i o n , a r t ' s l i f e i s i t s n e g a t i v i t y , i t s 113 a b i l i t y to ingress into the domain of the factual with the awareness of that which does not exist. Its prime characteristic i s i t s difference from what l i f e has become. Marcuse points out the "alienation-effect", or "estrangement-effect" form-ulated by Brecht for the theatre as an example of the ingressive, unreal nature of art: "The ^estrangement-effect1 i s not superimposed on l i t e r a t -ure. I t i s rather literature's own answer to the threat of tota l behaviourism the attempt to rescue the rationality of the negative. In this attempt the great 'conservative' of literature joins forces with the radical a c t i v i s t . Paul Valery i n s i s t s on the inescapable commitment of the poetic language to the negation. The verses of this language 'ne parlent jamais que des choses absentes.' They speak of that which, though absent, haunts the established universe of discourse and behaviour as i t s most tabooes p o s s i b i l i t y neither heaven nor h e l l , neither good nor eveil but simply 'le bonheur'....Creating and moving i n a medium which pre-sents the absent, the poetic language i s a language of co-gnition but a cognition which subverts the positive. In i t s cognitive function, poetry performs the great task of thought: 'le t r a v a i l que f a i t vivre en nous ce qui n'exis-te pas'. Naming the 'things that are absent' i s the breaking of the spell of the things that are; moreover i t i s the ingression of a different order of things into the estab-lished one 'le commencement d'un monde'."201 Because, however, the established r e a l i t y has mobilized language and org-anized expression to an unprecedented degree, "truly avant-garde works of l i t -erature communicate the break with communication. With Rimbaud, and then with dada and surrealism, literature rejects the very structure of discourse which, throughout the history of culture, has linked a r t i s t i c and ordinary language."' The communication of the break with communication i s analogous to the ne-gation of art by art discussed ea r l i e r . In this negation, "The traditional s t -uff of art (images, harmonies, colors) reappears only as 'quotes', residues of 114 203 past meaning in a context of refusal." The closed categories reappear in new art only as artifacts, their potential to carry meaning in the new context is exhausted, subsumed by the historical self-consciousness of the process of art (the process of dialectical signification, "pointing with the finger..."). Un-like the art which preceeded i t , that of Duchamp and the Berlin Dadaists, in Morris' words, uses "structure....to build events. In this sense i t draws clos-204 er to science as a mode." Earlier art tended to search for structure in ex-isting events; but as the universe of existing events becomes progressively c l -osed to the artistic impulse, that impulse moves to complete the negation on i t s own terms: to establish i t s own "apparent fact,!' with a model of i t s own version of the history of facts. Huelsenbeck and Hausmann, in their "Grand Tour" of Dada (Berlin, Leipzig, Prague, Karlsbad, etc.) created the most extreme "environment-al " work of art until the May, 1968 Paris uprisings. The negation of art by art is the work of the art of total alienation. As such i t necessarily becomes a critique of the conditions of its own existence. The "Duchampian strategy" created the fundamental methodology for art, a totally new context and stance. As methodology i t remains intact, and is likely to be so for some time to come. Por, in contrast to Kosuth, Duchamp did not set up an impulse "for an art context only", and which therefore leads inevitably to the self-sufficient contentlessness of the tautology. Rather, his method indicated the outlines of a totally "revolutionary" generative scheme, a "grammar" of re-newal. Kosuth's notion of context is intensional and analytic; the Berlin-Duch-amp notion can be characterized as extensional and synthetic, in that i t moves out from a multitude of actual occurrences and events, rather than systematic-ally eliminating events and occurrences from a prioristic contextual schema. The 115 t o t a l l y d i a l e c t i c a l , h i s t o r i c a l nature of the extensional, synthetic method me-ans that no abstract categories remain beyond the movement of actual practice. The "empty category" i s f i l l e d according to the needs of praxis, which begins from alienation. The major sh i f t i n a r t i s t i c strategy concerns the changing modalities of ideology i n the post-bourgeois world. In a world which i s increasingly r e i f i e d and increasingly developing through i t s contradictions, the preoccupation ad-vanced art i s to generate alternatively-structured events, and therefore, to generate an alternative language. The specific content of social existence whi-ch determined the consciousness of Duchamp, Huelsenbeck, Hausmann, the Herzfel-des and the rest i s no longer an issue. The society out of which they emerged i s a closed category. Their achievement, i n Marxian terms, "transcends" the so-c i a l existence which produces the art, giving proof of the doctrine of the dia-l e c t i c a l reflexiveness of consciousness. The definition they created applies to an a c t i v i t y , not to a set of resul-t s . The results interest us as documents of history; formerly " l i v i n g " works of art remain as a r t i f a c t s . As Burnham maintains, i t i s not a question of choosing a new u r i n a l ; the introduction of process as content establishes a new method of creation.. The Readymades and the p o l i t i c a l action of Berlin for the f i r s t time established contextual praxis as art's subject-matter, realizing the soci-a l nature of art-meanings. VJithin this realization i s contained the essentials of a c r i t i c a l vocabulary, which i s s t i l l i n the process of being articulated. Art contains i t s c r i t i c a l vocabulary, i n contradistinction to Duchamp, who l e f t the development of this more spe c i f i c a l l y to "posterity", which i n Marxian pre-history, means contingency. The attempt at the removal of remoteness and-negativity from art i n the i d -1 1 6 eological world is, therefore, to be resisted, and this resistance comes "natu-rally" in the dialectical art-strategy; since its own subject-matter is its re-lationship to history, reification is revealed as an illusory condition, as co-nditioned consciousness. False consciousness mutilates the imagination, creates a mutilated imagin-ation in which reification is internalized. Thus, even "instinctual" needs, so long understood as the property of the abstract "private sector" of individual life, become functions of ideology. This reification is the effective negation of the imagination. Art as knowledge performs the "negation of the negation". The apparently contradictory statements of the negative consciousness are refu-ted by the "radical empiricist" or positivistic ideology of advanced capitalist society, but their meaning persists in the consciousness of history. This hist-orical consciousness becomes "real" only in the necessary connection of theory and practice, as Marx outlined. This alliance itself can be seen as the negat-ion of contemporary ideology. The possibilities for this connection in the con-temporary world are subject for other and further discussion. In art, this a l l -iance does exist, but only as an image, a presentation of "in fact" unreal ev-ents. "Culture", as the condition of knowledge in capitalist society, reveals itself as the antagonist of art. The language of this culture ae seemingly unbreakable, impenetrable continuum, is the field of conflict (cf. William S. Burroughs). Events generate language, and, as stated above, the task of art sin-ce Duchamp and Berlin Dada is to generate events which proclaim their antagon-ism to the structure of events which produced the conditions for their creation. The events built by art are unreal, and necessarily so. Therein lies their neg-ating value, the domain of their consequence. 117 NOTES 1. -Marcel Duchamp, "The Creative Act", paper read at a Session on the Creative Act, Convention of the American Federation of the Arts, Houstion, Texas, Ap-r i l , 1957; published i n Robert Lebel, Marcel Duchamp, Trianon Press, Paris, Grove Press, New York, 1959, 77-78. 2. -see Arnold Hauser, The Social History of Art, Vintage Editions (Random House), New York, 1964. 3. -Arthur Rimbaud, "Mauvais Sang", from Une Saison en Enfer, 1873, i n Oliver Ber-nard, ed. and trans, from the French, Penguin Books, Harmondsworth, 1962, 302-303. 4. -Richard Huelsenbeck, En Avant Dada: Eine Geschichte des Dadaismus, P. Steege-man, Hanover, 1920; translated as En Avant Dada: A History of Dadaism i n Ro-bert Motherwell, ed., The Dada Painters and Poets: An Anthology, Documents of Modern Art no. 8, George Wittenborn Inc., New York, 1951 > (hereafter referred to as DPP), 29. 5. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 41. 6. -For relevant information regarding the distributions of publications by the Parisian group, see Herbert S. Gershman, The Surrealist Revolution i n France, The University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor, 1969, 140. Regarding the d i s t -ributions of publications by the Berlin group, see Hans Richter, Dada: Art % and Anti-Art, Thames and Hudson, London, 1965, 110-112. 7. -See Maurice Nadeau, Histoire du Surrealisme. Editions du Seuil, Paris, 1942, vol. 1, ch. 7, which refers to Naville's essay,"La revolution et les i n t e l l -ectuels: mieux et moins bein", 1927, a later publication of a previous paper, "Que peuvent faire les surrealistes?" of 1926, published i n La Revolution  Surrealiste. no. 9-10, October, 1927. For a f u l l e r description of the dialog-be tween Naville and Breton at this time, see Gershman, 86-91 and notes. 8. -see Richter, 102, 110-114, regarding the periodicals Neue Jugend. edited by the Herzfeldes, and Die Friet Strasse, edited by Hausmann and Jung. 9. -regarding Baader, see Richter, 123-127, DPP, 45-47, 148-152 10. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 32-33. 11. -Connections: "Ball and I had been extremely active i n helping to spread expressionism i n Germany; Ball was an intimate friend of Kandinsky, i n c o l l -aboration with whome he had attempted to found an expressionist theatre i n Munich. Arp i n Paris had been i n close contact with Picasso and Braque and was thoroughly convinced of the necessity of combatting naturalist conception i n any form. Tristan Tzara....brought with him from Rumania an unlimited l i t -erary facility....Through Tzara we were also i n relation with the futurist movement and carried on a correspondence with Marinetti.", Huelsenbeck, DPP, 24. The poetic concepts of simultaneity and bruitismwere basically taken f r -om futurism. 12. -For example, Huelsenbeck can point to the manner i n which Dada accepted i t s demise. In Germany, Dada was over by 1922, finished by i t s members without unnecessary lament, while i n Paris Tzara kept Dada together as a movement 118 through mid-1923, with the Coeur a barbe soiree on July 6, and published his "Conference sur Dada" i n Schwitters' MERZ i n January, 1924. The infighting of the Paris movement (Bretpn-Tzara, Picabia-Breton, Picabia-Tzara, etc.) i s ;>~ well-documented, and a study of Breton's a c t i v i t y makes i t apparent that the real thrust of Paris Dada had been spent by the time of the "Proces Barres" of May 31, 1921; after this event the theoretical conflict between Breton and Tzara rendered following Dada episodes erratic and quarrelsome. This i s not to suggest that the Berlin movement did not experience similar d i f f i c u l t i e s . From the beginning i t was beset by fierce competition between Huelsenbeck and Hausmann for influence, and certainly Huelsenbeck seems to have had l i t t l e use for Baader ("...a Swabian p i e t i s t who at the brink of old age discovered Dadaism and journeyed through the countryside as a Dadaist prophet to the delight of a l l fools.", En Avant Dada. DPP, 26-27.). However, no member of the Berlin group attempted to keep i t i n existence for i t s own sake, under* standing that to do so would be essentially an anti-Dada gesture, " . . . i n 1922, when the power of the f a i t h began to wane and all-too-human conflicts began to appear, these same people....began to lose their sense of common loyalty. Baader turned against one RH, who, i n his turn, deserted and sland-ered the other RH, or else tried to outdo him i n power and status. No longer moved by the enthusiasm that sprang from their shared experience, the indiv-idual personalities were worth what they and their anti-art were worth, and no more....By the beginning of 1923, a l l of the 'storm' had been stressed out of Sturm und Drang.", Richter, 134. 13 . -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 26-27. 14. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 39-15. -Dada publications i n Berlin after 1917 included: Die Blutige Ernst, edited by Carl Einstein; Jedermann Sein Signer Fussball ("Every Man His Own Foot-b a l l " ) , collectively edited and distributed, (see note 6); der Dada. edited by Raoul Hausmann; Club Dada, edited by Huelsenbeck, Jung and Hausmann for one issue only. Also published were: Dada-Almanach. edited by Huelsenbeck; Dada Seigt, a collection published by Malik-Verlag i n 1920, and several oth-er single issue ventures, often closely-pursued by police and censors; such as The P i l l . The Cudgel. Rose-Colored Spectacles. Adversary. Bankruptcy and Germany Must Perish. For detailed information on numbers, contributors, etc., see Herbert S. Gershman, A Bibliography of the Surrealist Revolution i n Fr-ance, University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor, 1969. 16. -Motherwell (DPP) mistakenly dates this work as 1920 (242-246); Richter re-produces a l l four pages of the original publication(105), showing the corr-ect date, 1918. 17. -Richter, 103, quoting Huelsenbeck's speech at the "Saal der neuen Sezession" Berlin, Bebruary, 1918. 18. -That i s , a system of thought which permits dissent, but which, i n the very act of permitting, labels that which i s permitted as deviant. Herbert Marcuse has analyzed this situation i n his essay "Repressive Tolerance" i n Critique  of Pure Tolerance (with Robert Paul Wolff and Barrington Moore, J r . ) , Beacon Press, Boston, 1965, and this essay i s evident i n the following discussion. 19.-Huelsenbeck, DPP, 40. 119 20. -see Alfred Korzybski, Science and Sanity: An Introduction to Non-Aristotel- ian Systems and General Semantics. International Non-Aritotelian Library Pu-blishing Company, Lakeville, Conn., 1933. 21. -Karl Marx, Theses on Feuerbach, XI, Addenda to, Karl Marx and Frederick En-gels, The German Ideology, Progress Publishers, Moscow, 1964> 647. (The Ger- man Ideology hereafter referred to as GI.) 22. -George Lichtheim, Marxism: A Historical and Critical Study, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1961, 3. 23. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 40-41. 24. -It is also the basis of Andre Breton's dissatisfaction with Dada (and Tzar-a's leadership of i t ) by early 1921. The weakness of Dada's program in Paris is apparent to Breton before the Proces Barres, as i t is a motivating factor in his attitude toward the episode. 25. -see the catalogue for the only latge Berlin exhibition, the First Internat- ional Dada Fair held at the Burchard Gallery, Berlin, 1920. The exhibition included a l l members of the Berlin corps, and also Ernst ("dadamax ernst co-logne"), Baargeld, Schwitters, Picabia, Otto Dix, Paul Citroen, and other, lesser-known names. Publications were prominently included, and much of the pictorial work was illustrations for these, such as Heartfield's works for Huelsenbeck's second edition of Phantastiche Gebete, brought out by Malik-Verlag. Many works were collaborative (Ernst-Baargeld, Grosz-Heartfield). 26. -George Grosz published four volumes of his satirical drawings between 1917 and 1923, a l l brought out by Malik-Verlag: 1. -Kleine Grosz Mappe, 1917. 2. -Das Geschichte der herrschenden Klasse: 57 politische zeichnungen. (Kl-eine Revolutionaire Bibliotek, 4), 1921. "This was originally based on 60 drawings in 1919» based on published work from 'Die Pleile', 'Der Blutige 'feErriSt', and similar sources." (DPP, bibliography no. 273.) 3. -Ecce Homo. 84 plates, 1923. , 27. -On Heartfield, see DPP, 290-293; Wieland Herzfelde, John Heartfield; Leben  und Werke, dargestellt von seinem Bruder, Dresden, 1962; Aaron Scharf, "John Heartfield, Berlin Dada, and the Weapon of Photomontage", Studio Internatio- nal, vol. 176, no. 904, October, 1968, 134-140; Frank Whitford, ed., "John Heartfield: Manifestos and related statements", Studio International, vol. 78, no. 915, October, 1969, 102-104. 28. -Joseph Kosuth, in Arthur R. Rose, "Four Interviews: Barry, Huebler, Kosuth, Weiner", Arts Magazine, February, 1969, 23. 29. -Roland Barthes, Writing Degree Zero, H i l l and Wang, New York, 1953 (1968 ed.), 9. 30. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 36. 31. -The so-called "conservative" aspect of Picasso's thoughts throughout the pa-inting revolution he achieved are made clear in his Statement to Marius de  Zayas of 1923: "Cubism has kept it s e l f within the limits and limitations of painting, never pretending to go beyond i t . Drawing, design and color are understood and practiced in cubism in the spirit and manner in which they are understood and practiced in a l l other schools. Our subjects might be d i -fferent, as we have introduced into painting objects and forms which were formerly ignored': We have kept our eyes open to our surroundings, and also our brains.", from "Picasso Speaks", The Arts, New York, May, 1923, 315-326, 1 2 0 reprinted i n Alfred H . Barr, Picasso, Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1 9 4 6 , 2 7 1 . 3 2 . -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 3 7 . 3 3 . -This position i s very close to that which Jean-Paul Sartre advocates i n his What Is Literature?, Philosophical Library, New York, 1 9 4 9 . Huelsenbeck has aligned his version of Dada with Sarte's e x i s t e n t i a l i s t thought of the 1 9 4 0 s and 1 9 5 0 s : see his a r t i c l e , "Dada and Existentialism", i n Verkauf, ed., Dada: Monograph of a Movement, New York, 1 9 6 1 . Both writers propose "engagement" as a necessary state f o r l i t e r a t u r e and art. 3 4 . -Ian Wallace, i n conversation, Vancouver, 1 9 6 9 . 3 5 . -Karl Marx, The Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1 8 4 4 . trans, and ed. by T. B. Bottomore i n Karl Marx: Early Writings. McGraw-Hill Book Co., Toronto, New York, London, 1 9 6 4 , 1 2 8 . (Hereafter, the Economic and Philosop- h i c a l Manuscripts of 1844 w i l l be referred to as EPM.) 3 6 . -Karl Marx, "Contribution to the Critique of P o l i t i c a l Economy", i n Lewis S. Feuer, ed., Marx and Engels: Basic Writings on P o l i t i c s and Philosophy, Dou-bleday Anchor Books, Garden City, N. Y., 1 9 5 9 , 4 3 . 3 7 . -Herta Wescher, Die Collage: Geschichte eines kunstlerischen Ausdrucksmittels, Verlag M. Dumont Schauberg, Cologne,1968, 23. 3 8 . -Wescher, plate 1 6 . 3 9 . -Wescher, plate 1 0 . 4 0 . -Richter, plate 6 3 . 4 1 . -Richter, plate 4 9 . 4 2 . -Wescher, 1 3 7 . 4 3 . -Wescher, 7 1 . 4 4 . -Richter, plate 6 5 . 4 5 . -Scharf, p. 1 3 7 , Don't Worry—He's A Vegetarian. 1 9 3 9 -4 6 . -Scharf, for example, Don't Worry—He's A Vegetarian, 1 9 3 9 . 4 7 . -Here i t might be arguedthat art's task i s not to carry a p o l i t i c a l message and so, i n this sense, Heartfield never even had the potentiality of being an a r t i s t . I would object that, given the situation, Heartfield would work i n the knowledge that such messages were necessary to increase the p o s s i b i l -i t y of revolution. His work was an e f f o r t to clear a context by clearing aw-ay a society. As well, one might object that this outlook places the time i n which one could make art i n some abstract future state. This i s incorrect. Art i s always of the present, but i t s presentness depends upon i t s contextual control. The very immediate conditions made i t necessary for the Dadaists i n Berlin to forego the process of making art f i r s t and foremost as an entity i n i t s e l f i n favour of bringing to conscious consideration the c o n f l i c t s i n con-text. 4 8 . -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 4 3 . 121 49. -Huelsenbeck, Collective Dada Manifesto, 1918, DPP, 244. 50. -Edmund Wilson, Axel's Castle: A Study i n the Imaginative Literature of 1870- 1930, Charles Scribner's & Sons, New York and London, 1931, 287-288. 51. -see Tzara's Zurich Chronicle 1915-1919. DPP, 235-242. 52. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 33. Note that Huelsenbeck participated, and that, while i n Zurich, published two collections of poems: Phantastiche Gebete, Collection Dada, Zurich, 1917, with 7 woodcuts by Arp (DPP bibliography no. 305); and Schalaben, Schalomai, Schalamezomai, Collection Dada, Zurich, 1916 (DPP bib-liography no. 307). Both collections contain work using the principles of bruitism, simultaneity, and "s t a t i c " or concrete poetry (see: End of the Wo- r l d , from Phantastiche Gebete, DPP, 226). Huelsenbeck does not use a conscious primitivism i n these early works; the imagery of End of the World i s entirely brought from the world of the street, the cafe, etc. In other of his poems he uses "meaningless" sounds, commingles words and noises and mixes languages. 53. -Marx. Theses on Feuerbach, VIII, Gl, 647. 54. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 42. 55. -Marx, EPM, 166-167. 56. -Marx, Gl, 36-37. 57. -Andre Breton, " P o l i t i c a l Position of Today's Art", i n Manifestos of Surreal-ism, trans, from the French by Richard Seaver and Helen R. Lane, University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor, 1969, 146. 58. -on the use of the term "natural", see, for example Picasso's comments i n the Statement to Marius de Zayas (see note 31)• 59. -Marx, Gl, 37-38. 60. -This i t s e l f says a great deal about the nature of art i n an age which produ-ces manifestoes. Not only does struggle exist between different art groups, as between the Dadaists i n Paris and Berlin for example, but also on the bro-ader l e v e l , when a r t i s t s find i t necessary to confront the domain of d e f i n i t -of art e x p l i c i t l y . This i s what Marinetti does i n the F i r s t Futurist Manifes-to of 1909. 61. -This d i a l e c t i c a l relationship can be exemplified by the " t r i a d i c " (thesis-antithesis-synthesis) reading so often applied to i t . As well, the s i t u a t i -on can be comprehended as the relationship between a whole and i t s parts, between a " f i e l d " as discussed i n this paper, and i t s components. That i s , the d i a l e c t i c a l process depends upon the relationship between "form", which can be seen as the "whole", and "content" as "parts". In a particular situa-tion, this can assume the triad i c form (which i s not central to Hegel, but which was employed, for example, by Fichte); see Gustav E. Mueller, "The He-gel Legend of 'Thesis-Antithesis-Synthesis'", i n Journal of the History of  Ideas, June, 1958, 411—414, noted i n Lichtheim, 7, note 2. 62.-Robert Morris, "Notes on Sculpture, Part IV: Beyond Objects", Artforum. Ap-r i l , 1969, 5 1 . 122 63. -See, for example, the writing of John Cage: Where there's a history of org-anization (art), introduce disorder. Where there's a history of disorganiza-tion (world society), introduce order. These directives are no more opposed to one another than mountain's oppoesed to spring weather. 'How can you bel-ieve this when you believe that?' How can I not?", from "Diary: How to Impr-ove the World (You Will Only Make Matters Worse), 1965, in A Year From Mon- day, Wesleyan University Press, Middletown, Conn., 1969, 19-20. 64. -Marcuse, "Repressive Tolerance", 89. It is important to note that Marcuse does not invoke a form-content dichotomy to explain the fact that he work of art can transcend problems in its content. The distinction is rather in lev- els of abstraction. 65. -see C. K. Ogden and I. A. Richards, The Meaning of Meaning, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1949. 66. -Joseph Kosuth, "Art After Philosophy, Part I", Studio International, vol. 78, no. 915, October, 1969, 135-67. -Kosuth, 136. 68. -see Terry Atkinson, David Bainbridge, Michael Baldwin, Harold Hurrell, ed., Art-Language, vol. 1, no. 1, May, 1969. 69. -It is necessary to indicate that i t is an essential part of the nature of dialectical struggle that each opposing component comprehends that its iden-tity is in no way independent from that of its opponent. The poles of a cont-radiction do not exist separately from one another, and dialectical "resolu-tion", or synthesis is not a victory of one pole over the other, but rather the fission of the combined energy of the two creating a totally new situat-ion. 70. -Kosuth, 136. 71. -This distinction, when made without explicit recognition that it is a syn-thetic proposition, creates a dualistic reading which produces tensions whi-ch are unresolvable. This is because of the non-dialectical nature of Kosu-th 's construction; leftover contradictions are "problems" in the system. With Kosuth this problem manifests itself in the attempt to reject the material aspect of art: "All my work exists when i t is conceived because the execution in irrelevant to art....the art is for an art context only;.." (Statement fr-om PROSPECT 69 exhibition catalogue, quoted in Jack Burnham, "Alice's Head: Reflections on Conceptual Art", Artforum, February, 1970, 43.)Burnham notic-es the "irony of Kosuth's that he is forced to produce i t physically..." (43) suggesting that the "true medium" for conceptual art is "telepathy". He also says that "The reification is invariably mistaken for art. As pure conceptu-al investigation Kosuth implies that his subject-matter is substantially i r -relevant, but that its assumptions provide meaning or context as art. By the act of giving definitions (tautologies) for terms other than 'art', Kosuth creates art and therefore functionally defines it."(43). It is not irrelevant to the thesis as a whole to point out that Burnham has misused the term "reification" here, at least by implication. The impli-cation is that, in the relationship between the "mental" and the "material" worlds, the basic existence of the material is a "reification" and there-123 fore, an alienation. This i s completely incorrect. I f a thought-system i s ta-ken as an a p r i o r i , i t s deliberate, h i s t o r i c a l nature i s ignored. Kosuth's art-system i s t o t a l l y within history i n i t s existence as art. Kosuth takes a context as an ay p r i o r i . Context always exists; art i s art "for an art cont-ext only". Context i s not grasped as a function of history i n Kosuth's work. Therefore, it_ i s what i s " r e i f i e d " , and i n a sense we can turn Burnham's wo-rds around a l i t t l e : " T h e art i s invariably mistaken for r e i f i c a t i o n " . R e i f i -cation takes place when abstract relations are placed i n control of the con-crete relations which produced them; the concrete relations thus "serve" the abstract relations. Kosuth's art serves a context; a tautology i s irrevocably tied to a particular l i n g u i s t i c structure, without which i t cannot exist. I would suggest that this problem i s basic to Kosuth's work and Burnham's und-erstanding of i t . Therefore, Kosuth's patronizing denigration of Walter de Maria (see note 23 to "Art After Philosophy, Part I", 137) should be seen c r i t i c a l l y : "...his (de Maria's) intentions are very poetic: he r e a l l y wants his work to change men's l i v e s . " The condition of alienated thought i s that of fragmented, p a r t i a l thought; the ultimate i n fragmentation must be the r i -gid separation of "influencing other a r t i s t s " from "changing men's l i v e s " . 72. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 44. 73. -see Tzara's comments on the "cubist and f u t u r i s t academies" i n his Dada Ma- nifesto 1918. DPP, 77. 74. -Tzara, DPP, 80. It i s interesting to note the connections expressed herebe-tween Tzara's theoretical conceptions and the notion of " d i f f i c u l t y " i n av-ant-garde French l i t e r a t u r e through the Symbolist movement. 75. -see note 13. 76. -Tzara, DPP, 76. 77. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 26. 78. -Tzara, DPP, 79-79. -Tristan Tzara, Manifesto on feeble and b i t t e r love (read o r i g i n a l l y at the Povolotzky Gallery, Paris, December 12, 1920), DPP, 86. 80. -George Ribemont-Dessaignes, radio interview with Tristan Tzara, Chaine Nat-ionale, May, 1950. Quoted i n Rene Lacote and Georges Haldas, Tristan Tzara (Poetes d'aujourd 'hui 32), Editions Pierre Seghers, Paris, 1952, 19. 81. -Again, the connection touTzara's l i t e r a r y concerns i s obvious: among his e a r l i e s t productions i n Zurich written before the 25_ Poemes—are the two theatrical works, La Premiere Aventure Celeste de M. Antipyrene, and Le Deu-xieme Aventure... See Lacote and Haldas, 115-119. 82. -Tzara, Manifesto on feeble and b i t t e r love. DPP, 95. 83. -Tzara, Proclamation without pretension, read o r i g i n a l l y at the eighth Dada performance i n Zurich, Kafleuten H a l l , A p r i l 8, 1919, DPP, 82. 84. -Tristan Tzara, Vingt-Cinq Poemes. Collection Dada, Imprimierie J . Heuberger, Zurich, 1916. Note the t o t a l absence of punctuation marks i n the manner est-ablished by Apollinaire i n Alcools. This i s also apparent i n the Antipyrene works. DPP notes a deluxe edition of the PremiereaAvgnturewith woodcuts by Janco, bibliography no. 414. It i s also relevant to note that the manifestoes 124 were published i n book form, with a portrait of the a r t i s t by Picabia, i n 1924 by Editions Jean Budry, Paris. 85. -As a comparison, see Apollinaire 1s The Futurist Antitradition, published and set i n type by Marinetti i n 1913, which, along with Alcools and Marinetti's manifestoes, was a strong poetic influence i n Paris after that date. I t i s important to note that by 1913 Marinetti had established the theoretical-cr-i t i c a l basis for Parole i n l i b e r t a . which began the "typographic revolution" (Second Manifesto of Futurism, May 11, 1913; see E. C a r r i e r i , Futurism, Ediz-i o n i del Milione, Milan, 1966, 82-84), and about this time his ideas about type-setting and page composition underwent a radical change. The layout of Apollinaire's manifesto i s an example. However, i t i s important to note that, unlike Apollinaire (the content of whose manifesto was relatively unimport-ant), Marinetti continued to present a cogent c r i t i c a l program i n the manif-esto format. Apollinaire's The Futurist Antitradition might be seen as simi-l a r to Tzara's i n the position i t takes regarding the nature of i t s own role vis a vis the c r i t i c a l context. As well, i t might be seen as a more or less direct influence on Tzara. 86. -A developed understanding of this question must be attributed to Andre Bre-ton, who, i n the f i r s t years of the 1920s, wrote i n a "Dada Manifesto", "DA-DA attacks you with your own idea. I f we reduce you to maintaining that i t i s more advantageous to believe than not to believe what i s taught by a l l the religions of beauty, love, truth and justice, i t i s because you are afraid to put yourself at the mercy of Dada by accepting an encounter with us on the terrain that we have chosen, which i s doubt."(Three Dada Manifestos, DPP, 204). And later, presumably i n 1923: "My friends Phillippe Soupault and Paul Eluard w i l l not contradict me i f I say that we have never regarded 'Dada' as any-thing but a rough image of a state of mind that i t by no means helped to cr-eate.... In an a r t i c l e of that period, which was not published and i s known to few persons, I deplored the stereotyped character our gestures were assu-ming, and wrote as follows: 'After a l l there i s more at stake than our care-free existence and the good humour of the moment. For my part, I never aspi-re to amuse myself. I t seems to me that the saction of a series of utterly f u t i l e "dada" acts i s i n danger of gravely compromising an attempt at l i b e r -ation to which I remain strongly attached. Ideas which may be counted among the best are at the mercy of their too hasty vulgarization.'"("After Dada", 1923(?), DPP, 205.) In this frame of reference i t i s important to notice that Breton has at a l l times understood the nature of the division of poetry from c r i t i c a l act-i v i t y . His work i s clearly separable into classes of "poetry/literature" and "crit i c i s m " . The F i r s t Manifesto of Surrealism of 1924 i s a case i n point. It i s a " c r i t i c a l essay" (with occasional lapses), i n which Breton, l i k e Mar-i n e t t i , attempts to delineate a method and a construct i n conscious dis t i n c -tion from the work of art i t s e l f . See, for example, the section i n the F i r s t Manifesto, "Secrets of the Magical Surrealist Art" (Richard Seaver and Helen R. Lane trans., 29-30: "After you have settled yourself i n a place as favour-able as possible to the concentration of your mind upon i t s e l f , have writing materials brought to you..."). Breton outlines, poetically to be sure, the methodological structure of Surrealist literature. Yet, the essay never bec-omes that which i t i s talking about, though there are areas where c l a r i t y s l i p s . Nevertheless, the work i s conscious of i t s e l f as c r i t i c i s m and equal-125 l y conscious of i t s e l f as not art. I t i s i n this context that the original Surrealist automatic texts of Breton and Soupault are presented (cf. "Poiss-on Soluble" of 1924 and "Champs Magnetiques" of 1920). Similarly, Tzara, i n Manifesto on feeble and b i t t e r love. 1920, gives the recipe for a Dadaist poem (DPP, 92.). 87. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 44. 88. -Jean-Paul Sartre, "Interview", The New York Review of Books, March 26, 1970, 29. 89. -Huelsenbeck, DPP, 44. 90. -Lucy R. Lippard, "Dada Into Surrealism: Notes on Max Ernst as a Proto-Surr-e a l i s t " , Artforum, September, 1966, 10. 91. -Regarding the Closerie des Li l a s episode, see Gershman, The Surrealist Rev- olution i n France, 89-90. 92. -Richter, 130-131. 93. -Georges Hugnet, "The Dada S p i r i t i n Painting", published originally i n Cah- iers d'Art, vol. 7, no. 1-2, no. 6-7, no. 8-10, 1932; vol. 9, no. 1-4, 1934. Trans, from the French by Ralph Manheim for DPP, 152. 94. -The discretion between "exists" and "takes on meaning",again, can only be defined i n practice; i . e . , consciousness which does not participate i n any intersubjective a c t i v i t y naturally cannot be suggested not to exist. Rather, the question concerns more immediately the significance of this consciousness for anyone other than the subject. Regarding the question of a "private lang-uage" i n Wittgenstein, Philosophical Investigations. 258-270, see A. J. Ayer, "Can There Be A Private Language?", i n The Concept of a Person and Other E&3 says. MacMillan Co., Toronto, 1963. 95. -Marx, GI, 41-42. 96. -Henri Lefebvre, The Sociology of Marx, Vintage Books, New York, 1969, 8-9. See also Marcuse, Reason and Revolution, Beacon Press, Boston, 1941 (1961 ed.), 273 f f . 97. -Marcuse, Reason and Revolution (hereafter referred to as R R)» 311-312: "...the....conclusions of Marx's analysis of the laws of capitalism....(rev-e a l ) . . . ^ social order that progresses through the development of the contr-adictions inherent i n i t . S t i l l , i t progresses and these contradictions are the very means through which occur a tremendous growth i n the productivity of labour, an all-embracing use and mastery of natural resources, and a loo-sing of hitherto unknown capacities and needs among men. Capitalist society i s a union of contradictions. It gets freedom through exploitation, wealth through impoverishment, advance i n production through re s t r i c t i o n of consum-ption. The very structure of capitalism i s a d i a l e c t i c a l one: every form and i n s t i t u t i o n of the economic process begets i t s determinate negation and the c r i s i s i s the extreme form i n which the contradictions are expressed." 98. -Marx, "Contribution to the Critique of P o l i t i c a l Economy", Feuer, 43. 99. -Marx, GI, 44. 1.26 100. -Marx, EPM, 129-121. 101. -EPM, 122. 102. -Marx, Gl, 44-45. 103. -EPM, 123. 104. -EPM, 124-125. 105. -EPM, 126. 106. -EPM, 126-127. 107. -EPM, 127. 108. -EPM, 127. 109. -See, for example, the writings of Alfred Korzybski (note 20), and R. Buck-minster Fuller. 110. -EPM, 128. 111. -EPM, 128. 112. -EPM, 130. Note that this i s essentially Marx's attitude toward reli g i o n , which he sees as the ultimate alienation and, therefore, the ultimate sub-ject of criti c i s m : "According to Marx the foundation of a l l c r i t i c i s m i s the cr i t i c i s m of religion. Why? Because religion sanctions the separation of man from himself, the cleavage between the sacred and the profane, between the supernatural and nature. "The critique of religion i s the prerequisite of a l l criticism....The foundation of this critique i s the following: man makes re-l i g i o n , r e l i g i o n does not make man.' (opening lines from the Critique of He- gel's Philosophy of Right. 1843-1844)", Lefebvre, 10. 113«-cf. Marcuse, "Concept of Essence", i n Negations. Beacon Press, Boston, 196 . 114. -Herbert Marcuse, One-Dimensional Man: Studies i n the Ideology of Advanced  Industrial Society. Beacon Press, Boston, 1964, 215. (Hereafter referred to as YD Man.) 115. -Marx, EPM, 134. 116. -Marx, Gl, 43. Note the parallel with Renaissance a r t i s t s * attempts to esta-b l i s h themselves as " l i b e r a l " a r t i s t s i n direct antagonism to the definition of their a c t i v i t y under previous means of production. 117. -Marx, EPM, 159-160. 118. -EPM, 157-158 119. -EPM, 170-172. 120. -G. W. F. Hegel, Aesthetik. trans, from the German by F. P. B. Osmaston as Philosophy of Fine Art. G. B. B e l l and Sons, London, 1920, vol. I I , 396. 121. -For a discussion of the French origins of the study of "ideology", see George Lichtheim,"The Concept of Ideology", i n The Concept of Ideology and  Other Essays, Random House, New York, 1967, 3-46. 122. -Lefebvre, 60. 127 123. -Lichtheim, Concept of Ideology. 18. 124. -Lichtheim, 18. 125. -Lichtheim, 19. On the subject of reification: "Man's reflections on the forms of social l i f e and consequently, also his scientific analysis of these forms, take a course directly opposite to that of their actual historical development. He begins, post festum. with the results of the process of dev-elopment ready to hand before him. The characters that stamp products as co-mmodities and whose establishment is a necessary preliminary to the circula-tion of commodities have already taken on the stability of natural, self-un-derstood forms of social l i f e , before man sets out to decipher not their historical character, for in his eyes they are immutable but their meaning." (Capital, vol. I, 87.) The narrower view of ideology is completely bound up with the wider asp-ect: the ideologizing class is within the framework of the ideology; the wo-• rld-view is the view of their world. Thus, the "vulgar" class-interest aspe-cts of the procedure are necessary steps in the comprehensive, philosophical structure. "Once the ruling ideas have been separated from the ruling individ-uals and, above a l l , from the relationships which result from a g i -ven stage of the mode of production, and in this way has been reach-ed that history is always under the sway of ideas, i t is very easy to abstract from these various ideas 'the idea', the notion, etc., as the dominant force in history, and thus to understand a l l these separate ideas and concepts as 'forms of self-determination' on the part of the concept developing in history. It follows then natural-ly, too, that a l l the relationships of men can be derived from the concept of man, man as conceived, the essence of man, Man. This has been done by the speculative philosophers. Hegel himself confesses at the end of the Geschichtphilosophie that he 'has considered the progress of the concept only' and has represented in history the 1 true theodicy' (p. 446). Now one can go back again to the produc-ersiof the 'concept', to the theorists, ideologists and philosoph-ers, and one comes then to the conclusion that the philosophers, the thinkers as such, have at a l l times been dominant in history: a conclusion, as we see, already expressed by Hegel. The whole t r -of proving the hegemony of the spirit in history....is thus confi-ned to the following three efforts: No. 1. One must separate the ideas of those rulingfor empiric-al reasons, under empirical conditions and as empirical individuals, from these actual rulers, and thus recognize the rule of ideas or illusions in history. No. 2. One must bring an order into this rule of ideas, prove a mystical relationship (connection) among the successive ruling Ideas, which is managed by understanding them as 'acts of self-determination 'on the part of the concept'. (This is possible be-cause by virtue of their empirical basis these ideas are really connected with one another and because, conceived as mere ideas, they become self-distinctions, distinctions made by thought.) No.13- To remove the mystical appearance of this 'self-det-128 ermining concept' i t i s changed into a person—'Self-Cons-ciousness'—or, to appear thoroughly mater ia l i s t i c , into a series of persons, who represent the 'concept' i n h istory, into the ' th inkers ' , the 'phi losophers', the ideologists, who again are understood as the manufacturers of h istory, as t he . . . . r u l e r s . Thus the whole body of mater ia l is t ic elements has been removed from history and now free re in can be given to the speculative steed." (Marx, GI, 63-64.) 126. -Lichtheim, 20. 127. -Lichtheim, 20. 128. -Lichtheim, 21. 129. -Marcuse, RR, 119. 130. -Lichtheim, Concept of Ideology, 21-22. 131. -Lefebvre, 66-67.(See a lso, p. 52, note 94.) 131:A-.-cf. the work of Lucien Goldmann, for example. . 132. -Marx develops th is ideas i n The German Ideology, i n connection with the cr i t ique of Feuerbach's concept of essence: "As an example of Feuerbach's acceptance and at the same time misunderstanding of existent rea l i t y . . . .we reca l l the passage i n the Philosophie der Zukunft, where he develops the view that the existence of a thing or,a man i s at the same time i t s or his essence, that the conditions of existence, the mode of l i f e and ac t i v i t y of an animal or human indiv idual are those in which i t s or his 'essence' feels i t s e l f sa t i s f i ed . Here ev-ery exception i s expressly conceived as an unhappy chance, as an abnormality which cannot be al tered. Thus i f mi l l ions of proletarians fee l by no means contented with their l i v i ng con-d i t ions, i f thei r 'existence' does not i n any way correspond to their 'essence', then, according to the passage quoted, th-i s i s an unavoidable misfortune, which must be borne quiet ly . The mi l l ions of proletarians and communists, however, think d i f ferent ly and w i l l prove th is i n time, when they bring their 'existence' into harmony with their 'essence' i n a pract ica l way, by means of a revolut ion." (54-55.) This c r i t i c i sm i s twofold, or, at leas t , i t s subject manifests i t s e l f i n two ways. Ei ther , as above, "essence" i s ident i f ied with existence so that the notion that existence i s i n any way fa lse i s not permitted to develop, or e l -se the realms of essence and existence are r i g id l y separated. In th is act ion, which w i l l be discussed more f u l l y further on, the realm of essence i s remov-ed from history and established i n a timeless realm where i t i s supposedly free from the corruption of contingency, etc. This area i s continually desig-nated as the " s p i r i t u a l " , or the "abstract" and so on, as i n Thomistic p h i l -osophy. The result of the separation of the two notions i s ident ica l to the bind-of them together: i n either case the existent rea l i t y i s rendered immune to negation and transformation, on the one hand because " rea l i t y " i s a p r io r i ident ica l to "essence", and on the other because the " rea l i t y " was rendered 129 impotent to manifest i t s e l f i n the world. While essence i s , i n a certain sense, an abstraction, i t s only sign-ificance i s i n i t s being made real; essence appears only i n practice. In Marx's terms, u n t i l the achievement of a rational world, essence and ex-istence are d i a l e c t i c a l l y separated. Essence, because knowable (Hegel), can be realized i n fact, only becomes "real" i n i t s "realization". Un-t i l this time, i t i s conspicuous for i t s absence. 133. -Lefebvre, 65-66. 134. - I t w i l l be appreciated that ideology involves i t s e l f to a great extent with mimetic actions actions which, through ignorance of their own contextual nature, do not apprehend the relationship they have with process, and so can-not approach process consciously, i.e., creatively. An interesting support to the views of Marx on the transcendent qualities of consciousness and langua-ge can be extracted from Noam Chomsky's notion of "The creative aspect of l a -nguage use". (See Noam Chomsky, Language and Mind, Harcourt, Brace and World, New York, 1968.) He asserts that normal (and this word must be used careful-ly) use of language i s innovative, i n the sense that much of what we say i n the course of everyday language use i s entirely "new", not repetition, but definite extension of meanings and patterns heard i n the past: "The fact su-rely i s , however, that the number of sentences i n one's native language that one w i l l understand without feelings of d i f f i c u l t y or strangeness i s astro-nomical; and that the number of patterns underlying our normal use of lang-uage and corresponding to meaningful and easily comprehensible sentences i n our language i s of orders of magnitude greater than the number of seconds i n a lifetime. It i s i n this sense that the normal use of language i s innovat-ive." (10). Moreover, this quantitative enormity of p o s s i b i l i t y of language use i s not the extent to which l i n g u i s t i c creativity extends: language i s " i n f i n i t e " , that i s , self-generating, i n variety and i s free from complete stimulus-con-t r o l .( learning by analogy, etc.). As Marx suggests, language becomes an obj-ect of thought and language; they become aware of the abstraction that i t i s and that using i t entails. Language limitations are f e l t most intensely as the realm of the "unsayable" begins to ingress upon that which has been exp-ressed i n the past. That i s , the li m i t s of language are known at particular times. The "transcendent" aspects of language use stem from i t s capacity to generate i t s e l f i n practice, and to become an object of consideration. (See also Chomsky, Cartesian Linguistics. Harper and Row, New York, 1966.) 135. -Lefebvre, 69. 136. -Lefebvre, 70-71. 137. -Lefebvre, 85. 138. -Lefebvre, 76. 139. -Lefebvre, 77-78. 140. -Lefebvre, 78. 141. -Lefebvre, 79. 142.-Lefebvre, 79. 130 143. -lefebvre, 8. 144. -Marx, Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right, Bottomore, 58. 145. -Lefebvre, 86-87. 146. -Marcuse, RR, 295-312; Lichtheim, Marxism. 176-200. 147. -Marx, Capital, I, 83. 148. -Marcuse, "The Affirmative Character of Culture", i n Negations, 93. (Hereaf-. J ter referred to as ACC) 149. -Marcuse, ACC, 95. 150. -Lichtheim, Marxism, 401-406. 151. -Marcuse, ID Man, Introduction, x i i i . 152. -See note 16. 153. -Marcuse, ACC, 124. 154. -Marcel Duchamp, "The Creative Act", i n Lebel,. 77-78. 155. -Marcuse, YD Man, 59• 156. -Lefebvre, 131-132. 157. -Marcuse, ACC, 97; RR, 295-302; VD Man, 133-143. 158. -Marcuse, ACC, 97. See also "Bourgeois society....keep i t pure.", 115-116. 159. -Marcuse, ACC, 98-99. 160. -ACC, 118. 161. -ACC, 118. 162. -ACC, 119. 163. -Hugnet, "Dada S p i r i t i n Painting", DPP, 147. 164. -Marcuse, YD Man, 146. 165. -1D Man. 146. The argument derives from chapters 5,6, and 7 pa r t i c u l a r l y . 166. -Marcuse, RR, 343-344. 167. -Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, trans, from the Germ-an by D. F. Pears and B. F. McGuinness, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 19-67 (ed.), 1. 168. -Marcuse, RR, 340-359. 169. - c f . Marcuse, 1D Man, chapter,6. 170. -1D Man, 152. 171 .-II) Man, 152. 172.-1D Man. 152. 175.-1D Man. 152. 174.-Marx, Critique of Hegel's Dialectic and General Fhilosophy, Bottomore, 200. 131 175. -Auguste Comte, Cours de philosophie positive, ed. E. L i t t r e (6 v o l . ) , Par-i s , 1877, IV, 138. 176. -Marcuse, RR, 349. 177. -Wittgenstein, Tractatus, 2.05, 1.11. 178. -C. F. von Weizsacker, The History of Mature. 142, noted i n Marcuse, 1D Man, 155. 179. -Wittgenstein, Tractatus, 6.522. 180. -Marcuse, 1D Man, 158. 181. -1D Man, 158. •182.-1D Man. 166. 183. -JLD Man, 168. 184. -1D Man, 168-169-185. -See p. 1, 52. 186. -ID Man, chapter 7. 187. -See Chomsky, Language and Mind, 15, and Wittgenstein, Philosophical Invest- igations . 199: "To understand a sentence i s to understand a language. To und-erstand a language i s to be master of a technique." 188. - H Man, 174 f f . 189. -1D Man, 179-190. -Ludwig Wittgenstein, Remarks on the Foundation of Mathematics, ed. by G. H. von Wright, R. Rhees and G. E. M. Anscombe, B. Blackwell, Oxford, 1956, I, 40, notes. 191. -Marx, Critique of Hegel's D i a l e c t i c , Bottomore, 200. 192. -ID Man, 181 . 193. -ID Man, 182. See pp. 65-66. 194. -ID Man, 188. 195. -ID Man, 195-196. -Morse Peckham, Man's Rage For Chaos, Shocken Books, New York, 1969. 197. -Jack Burnham, "Robert Morris Retrospective i n Detroit", Artforum, March, 1970, 75. (Underlining mine.) 198. -1D Man, 61. 199. -ID Man, 64. 200. -1D Man, 65. (Underlining mine.) 201. - ID Man, 67-68. 202. -1D Man, 68. 203. -JD Man, 69. ' 204. -Burnham, 75. 132 A MOTE ON THE BIBLIOGRAPHY The bibliography includes only sources directly cited in the text, and a very few other immediately related texts (cf. bib. 4, 13, 15, 37.). This method, admittedly inadequate, has been chosen as the least inadeq-uate possibility. The reading for this paper covers several different areas and many volumes, not a l l of which are immediately relevant. For example, a large number of works of fiction, poetry etc. would necessar-ily have to be included in a more total bibliography. This is not a reference bibliography; very full bibliographies on the Dada and Surrealist movements can be found in Huelsenbeck, bib. 15, Gershman, bib. 13» and Sanouillet, bib. 37, as well as, of course, in Motherwell, bib. 31. 1 3 3 BIBLIOGRAPHY 1 . BOOKS 1 . -Apollinaire, Guillaume, Alcools: Poems 1 8 9 8 - 1 9 1 5 , trans, from the French by William Meredith, Doubleday Inc., Garden City, N. Y., 1 9 6 5 . 2 . -Barr, Alfred H. Jr., Picasso, Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1 9 4 6 . 5.-Barthes, Roland, Writing Degree Zero, trans, from the French by Annette Lay-ers and Colin Smith, H i l l and Wang, New York, 1 9 6 8 . 4.-Breton, Andre, Entretiens, 1 9 1 5 - 1 9 5 2 , avec Andre Parinaud (et. al.), Gallim-ard, Paris, 1 9 5 2 . 5 . - , Manifestes du Surrealisme; polsson soluble, Editions Kra, Pa-r i s , 1 9 2 9 . 6 . - , Manifestes du Surrealisme, J. J. Pauvert, Paris, 1 9 6 2 . 7 . - , Manifestoes of Surrealism, trans, from the French by Richard Seaver and Helens R. Lane, University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor, 1 9 6 9 . 8 . -Cage, John, A Year From Monday, Wesleyan University Press, Middletown, Conn., 1 9 6 9 . 9 . -Chomsky, Noam, Cartesian Linguistics; A Chapter in the History of Rational-ist Thought, Harper and Row, New York, 1 9 6 6 . 1 0 . - , Language and Mind, Harcourt, Brace and World, New York, 1 9 6 8 . I^-Comte, Auguste, Cours de philosophie positive, Editions E. Littrej Paris, 1 8 7 7 , 6 vols. 12.-Gershman, Herbert S., The Surrealist Revolution in France, University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor, 1 9 6 9 -1 5 . - , A Bibliography of the Surrealist Revolution in France, University of Michigan Press, Ann Arbor, 1 9 6 9 -1 4 . -Huelsenbeck, Richard, En Avant Dada: Eine Geschichte des Dadaismus, P. Stee-geman, Hanover, 1 9 2 0 . (See also bib. .) 1 5 . - , Dada: eine literarische Dokumentation, Reinbek bei Hamburg, Rowohlt Paperback, 1 9 6 4 . 1 6 . -Korzybski, Alfred, Science and Sanity: An Introduction to Non-Aristotelian  Systems and General Semantics. International Non-Aristotelian Library, 1 9 5 5 . 1 7 . -Lacote, Rene, and Haldas Georges, Tristan Tzara (Poetes d'aujourdihui 3 2 ) , Editions Pierre Seghers, Paris, 1 9 5 2 . 1 8 . -Lebel, Robert, Marcel Duchamp, Trianon Press, Paris and New York, 1 9 5 9 . 1 9 . -Lefebvre, Henri, The Sociology of Marx, Vintage Books, New York, (1969 ed.). 2 0 . -Lichtheim, George, The Concept of Ideology and Other Essays. Random House, New York, 1 9 6 7 . 1 3 4 21. - , Marxism: A Historical and Critical.Study, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1961. 22. -Marcuse, Herbert, Critique of Pure Tolerance, (with Robert Paul Wolff and Barrington Moore, J r . ) , Beacon Press, Boston, 1965. 23-- , Negations: Essays i n C r i t i c a l Theory, Beacon Press, Bost-on, 1968. 24. - , One-Dimensional Man: Studies i n the Ideology of Advanced Industrial Society, Beacon Press, Boston, 1964. 25. - , Reason and Revolution: Hegel and the; Rise of Social Theo-ry, (1941), Beacon Press, Boston edition, 1961. 26. -Marx, Karl, Capital: A Critique of P o l i t i c a l Economy, trans, from the third German edition by Samuel Moore and Edward Aveling and edited by Frederick En-gels, C. H. Kerr, Chicago, 1906-1909. 27. - , "Contribution to the Critique of Hegel's Philosophy of Right", i n T. B. Bottomore, ed., Karl Marx: Early Writings, McGraw-Hill Book Co., New York, Toronto, London, 1964. 28. - , The Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844, i n Bottomore (note 27.). 29. - , The German Ideology (with Frederick Engels), including the Theses on Feuerbach. Progress Publishers, Moscow, 1964. 30. - , "Contribution to the Critique of P o l i t i c a l Economy", i n Lewis S. Feuer, Marx and Engels: Basic Writings on P o l i t i c s and Philosophy, Doubleday Anchor Books, Garden City, N. Y., 1959. 31. -Motherwell, Robert, ed., The Dada Painters and Poets: An Anthology, George Wittenborn Inc., Documents of Modern Art 8, New York, 1951. (includes Engli-sh translation of bib. 14, bib. 50 (Hugnet), bib. 39(Tzara), etc.) 32. -Nadeau, Maurice, Histoire du Surrealisme. Editions du Seuil, Paris, 2 vols., 1942. 33. -0gden, C. K., and Richards, I. A., The Meaning of Meaning: a study of the  influence of language upon thought and of the science of symbolism, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1949-34. -Peckham, Morse, Man's Rage for Chaos: Biology,Behaviour and the Arts, Shock-en Books, New York, 1968. 35. -Richter, Hans, Dada: Art and Anti-Art, Thames and Hudson, London, 1965. 36. -Rimbaud, Arthur, Selected Verse, trans, by Oliver Bernard, Penguin Books, Harmondsworth, 1962. 37. -Sanouillet, Michel, Dada a Paris, J J J. Pauvert, Paris, 1965. 38. -Sartre, Jean-Paul, What Is Literature?, trans, from the French by Bernard Frechtman, Philosophical Library, New York, 1949. 39. -Tzara, Tristan, Lampisteries precedes des Sept Manifestes Dada, J . J. Pauv-ert, Paris, 1962. (Originally published by Jean Budry, Paris, 1924. Trans< 135 complete from the French by Ralph Manheim i n bib. 3 1 . ) 4 0 . - , Vingt-cinq Poemes. S o l l e c t i o n Dada, Imprimerie J. Heuberger, Zurich, 1 9 1 6 . 4 1 . -Verkauf, Willy, with Bollinger, Hans and Janco, Marcel, eds., Dada: Monogr- aph of a Movement. Hastings House, New York, 1 9 6 1 . 4 2 . -Wescher, Herta, Die Collage: Geschichte eines kunstlerischen Ausdrucksmitt-els, Verlag DuMont Schauberg, Cologne, 1 9 6 8 . 4 3 . -Wilson, Edmund, Axel's Castle: A Study i n the Imaginative Literature of 1 8 -7 0 - 1 9 3 0 , Charles Scribner's and Sons, New York and London, 1 9 3 1 . (includes Tristan Tzara'S "Memoirs of Dadaism" as Appendix I.) 4 4 . -Wittgenstein, Ludwig, Philosophical Investigations, trans, by G. E. M. Ans-combe, Basil Blackwell, Oxford, 1 9 5 8 . 4 5 . - , Remarks on the Foundation of Mathematics, ed. by G. H. von Wright, R. Rhees, and G. E. M. Anscombe, Basil Blackwell, Oxford, 1 9 5 6 . 4 6 . - , Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus, trans, from the Germ-an by D. F. Pears and B. F. McGuinness, Routledge and Kegan Paul, London, 1 9 6 7 . 4 7 . -Hegel, G. W. F., Aesthetik, transi from the German by F.' P. B. Osmaston as the Philosophy of Fine Art, G. B. B e l l and Son, London, 4 v o l . , 1 9 2 0 . 2 . ARTICLES 4 8 . -Burnham, Jack, "Alice's Head: Reflections on Conceptual Art", Artforum. Feb-ruary, 1 9 7 0 , 3 7 - 4 3 . 4 9 . - , "Robert Morris Retrospective i n Detroit", Artforam, March, 1 9 7 0 , 7 1 - 7 5 . 5 0 . -Hugnet, Georges, "The Dada S p i r i t i n Painting", Cahiers d'Art. vol. 7 , no. 1 - 2 , 6 - 7 , 8 - 1 0 , 1 9 3 2 ; vol. 9 , no. 1 - 4 , 1 9 3 4 . (trans, from the French by Ralph Manheim i n bib. 3 1 • ) 5 1 . -Kosuth, Joseph, "Art After Philosophy, Part I", Studio International, vol. 1 7 8 , no. 9 1 5 , October, 1 9 6 9 , 1 3 4 - 1 3 7 . 5 2 . -Lippard, Lucy R., "Dada Into Surrealism: Notes on Max Ernst as a Proto-Sur-r e a l i s t " , Artforum. September, 1 9 6 6 , 1 0 - 1 5 . 5 3 . -Morris, Robert, "Notes on Sculpture, Part IV: Beyond Objects", Artforum, A p r i l , 1 9 6 9 , 5 0 - 5 5 . 5 4 . -Mueller, Gustav E., "The Hegel Legend of 'Thesis-Antithesis-Synthesis'", Journal of the History of Ideas, vol. XIX, no. 3 , June, 1 9 5 8 , 4 1 1 - 4 1 4 . 5 5 . -Rose, Arthur R., "Four Interviews: Barry, Huebler, Kosuth, Weiner", Arts  Magazine, February, 1 9 6 9 , 5 7 - 5 9 . 136 56.-Sartre, Jean-Paul, "Interview", The New York Review of Books, March 21, 1970, 24-29. 


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