rco Artists' Manifestos

Edited with an Introductionby Alex Danchev

PENGUIN BOOKS

Contents

Acknowledgements xiid

Introduction xtxFurtherReading xxxiA Note on the Texts xxxjii

THE MANIFESTOS

Mr. F. T. Marinetri,'The Foundation and Manifesto of Fuurism' (t9o9) rMz. Umberto Boccioni and others,'Manif*to of the Futur*t Painters' (r9rc) 9M3. Umberto Boccioni and others,'Futurist Painting Technical Manifesto' (ryto) 14

M4. Takamura Kotaro, A Green Sun' (tgto) 19

Mr. F. T Marinetti,Against Tra"d.itionalkt Venic{ (ryto) z4

M6. Guillaume Apollinaire,'On the Subject in Modern Painting' (tgtz) z6

M7. Valentine de Saint-Point,'Manifesto of FutarktWoman' (ryrz) zg

M8. Wassily Kandinsky and Ftanz Marc,'Preface to Der Blaue Reiter Alman ac' (rgtz) 35

M9. Valentine de Saint-Point,'Funr*t Manifesto of Lust' Astt zB

Mro. Mikhail Larionov and Natalya Goncharova,'Rayonists and Futurkts : A Manifesto' (tgd uMrr. Guillaume Apollinaire,'Aantitraditionfuturiste' GSg) qg

Contents

Mrz. Carlo Carri,'The Painting of Sounds, Noises and. Smelk, (gg) 5zMr3. Giacomo Balla,'Futurkt Manifesto of Men's Clothing' (ryd SeMr4. Mina Loy,'Aphorkas onFuturism, (rytl ezMr5. Ricciotto Canudo, 'Cerebrkt Art' (tg14 67Mr6. F. T Marinerti and C. R. W Nevinson,'The Futurkt Manifesto Against English Art, (rStq) nMr7. Wyndham Lewis and others, 'Madfesto,(rSr+) nMr8. Wyndham Lewis and others, ,OurVortex,(rgtl

8tMr9. Antonio Sant'Elia,'Manifato of Futur*t Arcltitecure' (ryt4) 84

Mzo. F. T Marinetti and others,'Futurist Synthesis of the War' (rytl 9oMzr. Mina Loy,'Femin*t Manifesto' (ry4) 9zMzz. Carlo Cartd,'Warpainting' (t9ry) 96Mz3. Vladimir Mayakovsky, ADrop of Tar, (ryry) rcrMz4. Kasimir Malevich, 'suprematistManifesto, (ryft) ro5Mz5. Hugo Ball,'DadaManifesto' (196) n6Mz6. Olga Rozanova, 'Cubkm, Futurism, Suprematkm, (ryry) goMz7. Vladimir Mayakovsky and others,'Manifesto of the FlyingFederation of Futurkts, Q9il) ry4Mz8. tistan Tzara,'DadaManifato, (t9fi) ry6Mz9. fuchard Huelsenbeck,'First German Dada Manifesto' (t9t8) 45M3o. Am6d6e Ozenfant andCharles-EdouardJeanneret , 'purkm' (ryt8) r5oM3r. Aleksandr Rodchenko and others,' Manifesto of Suprematkx and Non-Objectiye painters, (tgtg) ryaM3z. Richard Huelsenbeck and Raoul Hausmann,'What k Dadnism and what does it want in Germany?' Qgg) ry7M33. Walter Gropius, 'What is Architecture?, (1%g) rygM34. Francis Picabia, 'DadaManifato, (tgzo) 6zM35. Francis Picabia, 'Dada Cannibalistic Manifesto, (tgzo) 64M36. Tristan Tzara and others,'Twenty-Three Mnifestos of the Dal"a Mwanent, (r9zo) 66

viii

Contelts

M37. Naum Gabo and Anton Pevzner,'The Realisth Manifesto' (tgzo) r89M38. Liubov Popova,'On Organizittg Anew' (c.rgzt) ry5M39. Tristan Tzara and others,'Dada Excites F-verything' (ryzt) rg8M4o. Manuel Maples Arce,A Strident Presoiption' Qgn) zozM4t. DzigaYertoy'WE: Variant of a Manifesto' (gzz) zroM4z. Theo van Doesburg and others,'Manifesto I of De Stijl' (ryzz) zr5

M43. Vicente Huidobro, 'WeMustCreate' (ryzz) zr7

Ma+. Aleksandr Rodchenko,'Manifesto of the Constructiyist Group' (c.ryzz) zr9Mqs. Le Corbusier,'Toward an Architecture' AS", zUM46. Theo van Doesburg and others,'Marifesto Prole Art' (t94) 4oM47. Tomoshoi Murayama and others,'Mavo Manifato' (rgzj) 43M48. David Alfaro Siqueiros and others,'Manifesto of the Union of MexicanWorkers,

Teclmicians, Ptinters and Sculptors' (tgzj) a6M49. The Red Group, 'Manifesto'(ry24) a9M5o. Andr6 Breton, 'Manifesto of SurreaLism' (9zl z4r

M5r. Jos6 Carlos Mari6tegui,Art, Revolution and. Decadence' (ry26) z5tM5z. Salvador Dali and others, 'Yellow Manifesto' (ry28) 255

M53.Oswald de Andrade, 'Cannibalist Manifesto' (tgz8) z6z

M5a. Andr6 Breton,'SecondManifato of Surrealism' (ryzg) 267

MSl.F.T, Marinetti and Fillia,'Manifesto of Futurkt Cuisine' A%o) USM56.John Reed Club of New York,'Drafi Manifesto' (ryjz) z8z

M57. Mario Siuoru,'Manifuto of MuralPainting' (tgq) zB7

M58. Kiroly (Charles) Sirat6 and others,'Dimensionist Manifesto' (t9j6) zgr

Contenu

Mgq. An&6 Breton, Diego Rivera and Leon Trotsky,'Manifesto: Towards a Free Revolutionary Art' (rgj8) 295M6o. Jean (Hans) Arp, ,Concrete Art, Aq42) 3ozM5r. Lucio Fonrana, 'White Madfesto, (t946) 3o5M6z.Edgar Bayley and orhers,'hwentionist Manife*o' (t946) yzM63. Consrant Nieuwenhuy s,, Manifesto, ( t94S) 3r5M64. Barnett Newman, ,The Sublime k Now, (rg4l) 3zzM65. Victor Vasarely 'Notesfor aManife*o, (tSSi ZrzM56. Jiro Yoshihara, 'The Gutai Manifesto, (tg56) yrM6T.JeanTinguely,'For Static' (rySS) ZzaM68. Ferreira Gullar, 'Neo-Concrete Manifesto, (rySS) ZZSM69. Gustav Metzger,Auto-Destructive Art' (t959, t96o, tg6t) 343M7o. Guy Debord, 'situationkt Manifesto, (t96o) 347M7r. Claes Oldenburg, 'I Amfor an Art, (t96r) 35rM7z. GeorgBaselttz,'Panilemonic Manifesto I, znd. version, (tg6t) 356M2. Rafael Montaftez Ortiz,' Destructivism: A Manifesto' (t962) 36oM74. George Maciunas, 'Fluxus Manifesto, (tg6j) 363M75. Wolf Vosteil''Manifesto, (t96j) 366M76. Stan Brakhage, 'Metaphors onVkion, (lgq) 368M7. Stanley Brouwn, A Short Manifesto, (t961 37rM78. DerekJarman,'Manifesto, (ryA4) 373M79. Robert Venturi,' N on- Straightforward- Architecture :A Gentle Manifesn' Qg66) 376M8o. Gilbert and George, 'The Laws of Sculptors, AS6s) ZZgM8r. Mierle Laderman Ukeles,'Maintenonce Art Manifesto' Qg69) 38rM8z. Paul Neagu, 'Polpable Art Manifesto, (ry69) 38aM83. Gilbert and George, 'What Our Art Means, (g7o) 386M84. Dotrglas Davis,'Manifesto, e97l 388M85. Maroin Dib and others,'Manifesto of the Arab Surrealist Mwement, (t97) 39oM86. Rem Koolhaas, 'Delirious New york: ARetroactiye Mattifesto for Manhattan, AryB) zsz

Contents

M87. Coop Himmelb(l)au, Architecture Must Blnze' (ry8o) 396M88. Georg Baseliz, 'Painter{ Equipment' (rySi 3gsM8q. R. B. Kitaj, 'FirstDiasporktManifesto'(l98's) qoS

M9o. Lebbeus Woods, 'Manifesto'(t9y) 4roM9r. Dogrne 95,'Manifesto' (rSS) qvM9z. Michael Betancourt,,The _Manif*to, (ry96) 4r7

M93. CharlesJencks,

'4 Propositions of Post-Mod.ern Architecture' (ry96) qgM94. Werner Herzog, 'Minnesota Declaration' (t999) 4zzM95. Billy Childish and Charles Thomson,'The Stuckist Manifesto' (g9g) 425

M96. Takashi Murakami, 'The SuperFlatManifesto' (zooo) qoM97. Billy Childish and Charles Thomson,'Ranodernist Manifato' (zooo) qzMq8. R. B. Kitaj, 'SecondDiasporist Manifesto' (zoo) 45M99. Austin Williams and others,'Manifesto: Towards a New llumanism in Architecture' (zoo8) 445

Mroo. EdgeworthJohnstone, Shelley Li and others,'The Founding, Manifesto anlRules of The

Other MuswellHill Stuckists' (zoo9) 452

Mr F. T, MarinettiTlte Foundation and Manifesto of Futurism

(,gog)

'l'his historic document announced not only the founding of Futurism,lrut also the beginning of the very idea of the artist's manifesto. It was

lt once a new genre and a reinvention (or a remix) of the political original,'l'he Commun:*tManifesto (1848), the ur-manifesto of the modern age. The

Iiuturist Manifesto had an impact that was both immediate and long-lasting. It loosened tongues, shortened tempers and emboldenedirnitators of every nation and persuasion. It triggered an avalanche ofrrltists' manifestos - fifty more over the next few years from the Futurists

llone, many of them composed or inspired by the irrepressible Marinetti.'l'he manifesto was a continuation of art by other means. Over the next

twenty years, the art wars of the avant-garde produced the canonic mani-

lbstos of the classic movements - the Futurists, the Dadaists, theSurrealists and their brothers and sisters and splinters - all of them owingsomething to this founding text and fundamental example. One hundred

years after its first publication, it has not ceased to provoke.

The announcement was suitably spectacular: it was splashed on the

front page of Le Figoro on zo February ryoe We now know that it had

been extensively trailed in Italy before being launched upon the world.After it appeared in Le Figaro there was no stopping it. As if in conform-iry with Futurist principles, the French text was speedily published as a

leaflet and all Europe leafleted. It was translated into English, German,

Spanish, Russian, Czech and other languages. It appeared as a preface toEnrico Cavacckioh., La Ranno chie turcltine lThe Turquois e Frogsf and Enqu€te

interndtiondle sur le vers libre $9o9). The definitive Italian version was

published in the Futurist house journal Poesia in February-March r9o9

in Milan. It was declaimed soon afterwards by Marinetti himself fromthe stage of the Alfieri Theatre, Turin, and then in other theatres in othercities. Its dissemination, too, was a model for its successors.

F. T. Marineni

F. T. MARINETTI (1376-1944), philosopher, novelist, playwright, poet,propagandist and selipublicist, mightbe called the first artist of the mani-festo. He was not a painter, but he was a figure. The pioneers of Dadaism(the next big thing) were full of admiration for Apollinaire, Kandinskyand Marinetti as 'the greatest figures in modern art'. Tristan Tzara, thecapo of Dadaism, and Andr6 Breton, the pope of Surrealism, knowinglyfollowed in his footsteps (see Mz8 and M5o). As manifestoists and strate-gists, artists and revolutionists, such men were in many waysmini-Marinettis. For all his borrowing, Marinetti was a true original. Notonly did he instigate something thar could credibly be called an artisticmovement; as mobilizer, organizer andproselytizer, he was as importantin the history of European modernism as Trotsky in the history of theRussian Revolution.

My friends and I stayed up all night, sitring beneath the lamps of a

mosque, whose star-studded, filigreed brass domes resembled our souls,all aglow with the concenrrated brilliance of an electric heart. For manyhours, we'd been trailing our age-old indolence back and forth over richlyadorned, oriental carpets, debating at the uttermost boundaries of logicand filling up masses of paper with our frenetic writings.

Immense pride filled our hearts, for we felt that at that hour we alonewere vigilant and unbending, like magnificent beacons or guards inforward positions, facing an enemy of hostile stars, which.warched us

dosely from their celestial encampments. Alone we were, with the stok-ers working feverishly at the infernal fires of great liners; alone with theblack spectres that rake through the red-hot bellies of locomotives, hurt-ling along at breakneck speed; alone with the floundering drunks, withthe uncertain beating of our wings, along the city walls.

Suddenly we were startled by the terrif.ing clarrer of huge double-decker trams jolting by, all ablaze with different-coloured lights, as ifthey were villages in festive celebration, which the River po, in fullspate, suddenly shakes and uproots to sweep them away down to thesea, over the falls and through the whirlpools of a mighty flood.

Then the silence became more sombre. Yet even while we were listen-ing to the tedious, mumbled prayers of an ancient canal and the creaking

The FounAation and Manifesto of Futurism

bones of dilapidated palaces on their tiresome stretches of soggy lawn,

we caught the sudden roar of ravening motor cars; right there beneath

our windows.'Come on! Let's go!' I said. 'Come on, my lads, let's get out of here!

At long last, all the myths and mystical ideals are behind us. We're aboutto witness the birth of a Centaur and soon we shall witness the flight ofthe very first Angels! . . . We shall have to shake the gates of life itself totest their locks and hinges! . . . Let's be off! See there, the Earth's veryfirst dawn! Nothing can equal the splendour of the sun's red sword slicing

through our millennial darkness, for the very fust time!'We approached the three panting beasts to stroke their burning

breasts, full of loving admiration. I stretched myself out on my car likea corpse on its bier, but immediately I was revived as the steering wheel,

like a guillotine blade, threatened my b9l1y

A furious gust of madness tore us out of ourselves and hurled us

along roads as deep and plunging as the beds of torrents. Every now and

then a feeble light, flickeringbehind some windowpane, made us mistustthe calculations of our all-too-fallible eyes. I cried out, 'The scent, noth-ing but the scent! That's all an animal needs!'

And we, like young lions, chased after Death, whose black pelt was

dotted with pale crosses, as he sped away across the vast, violet-tintedsky, vital and throbbing.

And yet we had no idealized Lover whose sublime being rose up intothe skies; no cruel Queen to whom we might offer up our corpses,

contorted like Byzantine rings! Nothing at all worth dying for, other than

the desire to divest ourselves finally of the courage that weighed us down!

But we qped on, squashing beneath our scorching tyres the snarling

guard dogs at the doorsteps of their houses, like crumpled collars under a

hot iron. Death, tamed by this time, went past me at each bend, only tooffer me his willing paw; and sometimes he would lie down, his teeth grind-

ing, eyeing me with his soft, gentle look from every puddle in the road.'Let's leave wisdom behind as if it were some hideous shell, and cast

ourselves, like fruit, flushed with pride, into the immense, twisting jaws

ruf the wind! . . . Let's become food for the Unknown, not out of desper-

ution, but simply to fill up the deep wells of the Absurd to the very brim!'I had hardly got these words out of my mouth when I swung the car

around sharply, with all the crazy trtationality of a dog trying to bite its

F. T. trl.arinetti

own tail. Then suddenly a pair of ryclisrs came towards me, gesticularingfhat I was on the wrong side, dithering about in front of me like twodifferent lines of thought, both persuasive but for all that, quire contra-dictory Their srupid uncerrainry was in my way . . . FIow ridiculouslWhat a nuisance! . . . I braked hard and to my disgust the wheels left theground and I flew into a ditch . . .

O mother of a ditch, brimful with muddy water! Fine repair shop ofa ditch! How I relished your strength-giving sludge that reminded me somuch of the saindy black breast of my Sudanese nurse . . . When I gotmyself up - soaked, filthy, foul-smelling rag that I was - from beneathmy overfurned car, I had a wonderful sense of my heart being piercedby the red-hot sword of joy!

A crowd of fishermen, with their lines, and some goury old naruralistswere already milling around this wondrous spectacle. patiently mericu-lously, they set up tall rresdes and laid out huge iron-mesh nets to fishout my car, as if it were a great shark that had been washed up andstranded. Slowly rhe car's frame emerged, leaving its healy, sober body-work at the bottom of the ditch as well as its soft, comfortable upholsrery,as though they were merely scales.

They thought it was dead, that gorgeous shark of mine, but a caresswas all it needed ro revive it, and there it was, back from the dead, dart-ing along with its powerful fins!

So, with my face covered in repair-shop grime - a fine mixture ofmetallic flakes, profuse swear and pale-blue soot - with my arms allbruised and bandaged, yet quite undaunted, I dictated our foremostdesires to all men on Earth who are truly alive:

THE FUTURIST MANIFESTO

r. We want to sing about the love of danger, about the use of energy andrecklessness as common, daily practice.z. Courage, boldness and rebellion will be essential elements in ourpoetry

3. Up to now, literature has extolled a contemplative stillness, rapture andreverie. We intend to gloriff aggressive acrion, a restive wakefulness, lifeat the double, the slap and the punching fist.

4

The Foundation and Mailifesto of Futuism

4. We believe that this wonderful world has been further enriched by a

new beauty, the beauty of speed. A racing car, its bonnet decked withexhaust pipes like serpents with galvanic breath . . . a roaring motor car,

which seems to race on like machine-gun fue, is more beautifirl than the

Winged Victory of Samothrace.

5. We wish to sing the praises of the man behind the steering wheel,

whose sleek shaft traverses the Earth, which itself is hurding at breakneck

speed along the racetrack of its orbit.6. The poet will have to do all in his power, passionately, flamboyandy,

and with generosiry of spirit, to increase the delirious fervour of theprimordial elements.

7. There is no longer any beaury except the struggle. Any work of artthat lacks a sense of aggression can never be a masterpiece. Poetry mustbe thought of as a violent assault upon the forces of the unknown withthe intention of making them prostrate themselves at the feet ofmankind.8. We stand upon the furthest promontory of the ages! . . . Why should

we be looking back over our shoulders, if what we desire is to smash

down the mysterious doors of the Impossible? Time and Space diedyesterday. We are already living in the realms of- the Absolute, for wehave already created infinite, omnipresent speed.

9. We wish to glorify war - the sole cleanser of the world - militarism,patriotism, the destructive act of the libertarian, beautiful ideas worthdying for, and scorn for women.ro. We wish to destroy museums, libraries, academies of any sort, and

fight against moralism, feminism, and every kind of materialistic, self-

serving cowardice.

rr. We shall sing of the great multitudes who are roused up by work, bypleasure, or by rebellion; of the many-hued, many-voiced tides of revo-

lution in our modern capitals; of the pulsating, nighdy ardour of arsenals

and shipyards, ablaze with their violent electric moons; of railwaystations, voraciously devouring smoke-belching serpents; of workshops

hanging from the clouds by their twisted threads of smoke; of bridges

which, like giant gynmasts, bestride the rivers, flashing in the sunlightlike gleaming knives; of intrepid steamships that sniff out the hoitzon;of broad-breasted locomotives, champing on the wheels like enormoussteel horses, bridled with pipes; and of the lissom flight of the aeroplane,

F. T Marinetti

whose propeller fluners like a flag in the wind, seeming to applaud, likea crowd excited.

It is from Italy that we hurl at the whole world *ris utterly violent, inflam-matory manifesto of ourq, withwhichwe today are founding.Futurism,,because we wish to free our country from the stinking canker of itsprofessors, archaeologists, tour guides and antiquarians.

For far too long Italy has been a marketplace for junk dealers. Wewant our countryfree from the endless number of museums that every-where cover her like coundess graveyards. Museums, graveyards! . . .They're the iame thing, really, because of their grim profusion of corpsesthat no one remembers. Museums. They're just public flophouses, wherethings sleep on forever, alongside other loathsome or nameless things!Museums: ridiculous abattoirs for painters and sculptors, who are furi-ously stabbing one another to death with colours and lines, all along thewalls where they vie for space.

Sure, people may go there on pilgrimage abour once a year, just asthey do to the cemetery on All Souls Day - I'll granr you that. And yes,once a year a wreath of flowers is laid at the feet of the GiocondaltheMona Lisal- I'll grant you that too! But what I won,t allow is rhat ourmiseries, our fragile courage, or our sickly anxieties get marched dailyaround these museums. Why should we want to poison ourselves? Whyshould we want to rot?

What on earth is there to be discovered in an old painting other thanthe laboured contortions of the arrist, trying to break dowrr the insuper-able barriers which prevent him from giving full expression to his artisticdream? . . . Admiring an old painting is just like pouring our purest feel-ings into a funerary urn, instead of projecting them far and wide, inviolent outbursts of creation and of action

Do you really want ro wasre all your best energies in this unending,futile veneration for the past, from which you emerge fatany exhausted,diminished, rampled down?

Make no mistake, I'm convinced that for.an arfist to go every day tomuseums and libraries and academies (the cemeteries of wasted effort,calvaries of crucified dreams, records of impulses cut short! . . .) is everybit as harmfirl as the prolonged over-protectiveness ofparents for certainyoung people who get carried away by their talent and ambition. For

6