Dada

I notice that when I have work to do on a major project, I happen to write here a little bit more frequently. Such is the case at this moment in time.

I should exercise today, but is there time?

Yesterday, I was hard at work on my anthology project and since I am looking at several poems in how they relate to certain artistic movements of the 20th century, I wandered into the living room to see if James could shed any light on the differences between Cubism, Futurism and Dada.

“Do you know anything about Dadaism?”

“You mean in the 10’s and 20’s?”

Me (surprised because this is my left-brain guy talking): “Yeah.”

“Bunch of rich kids with nothing better to do than glue a wheel to a stool and call it art.”

“Anything else?”

He then explained to me that Cubism is more angular, sharp, pointing to the object of art as object more than art, Futurism is more insistent on movement, change and praises war to those ends, while Dada attempts to incorporate many things and be shocking about it without really doing anyone any harm–kind of like hippies with their music festivals.

He’s so cute when he hates hippies and wonders why I love him, conservatism and all.

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