Following the Blind Man

Kendell Geers
Tu Marcellus Eris (Following the Blind Man)
New Dehli, 31 January 2014
In the spring of 1912,
Marcel Duchamp left
Paris for Munich on a
3 month sojourn that
would ultimately
change the course of
twentieth century art.
He left Paris as the
painter of “Nude
Descending the
Staircase” and
returned with the
concept of the
Readymade as well
as the foundations of
his magnum opus
“The Bride Stripped
Bare By Her Bachelors, Even.” A
century later conspiracy theories
and speculation abound as
historians, artists and academics
compete for the most compelling
theory to explain the shift. Little is
known about the details of his stay
except that Duchamp made it very
clear that he visited the Alte
P i n a k o t h e k a l m o s t d a i l y.
Concerning these visits to the
museum, he commented decades
later on his interest in the work of
Lucas Cranach, saying that “Nature
and the materiality of
his nudes have inspired
me for the colour of the
flesh” (my emphasis).
On two separate
occasions following his
Munich trip he used
Cranach's “Adam and
Eve” as a readymade
composition, once for
Picabia's “Relache” in
1924 and again in a
1968 series of line
etchings. This painting
could not however have
been the reason for
Duchamp's daily
museum visit
since it is actually
in an entirely
different museum
in another
G e r m a n c i t y,
namely Leipzig.
Whilst in Munich
D u c h a m p
created two key
paintings, “The
Bride” and “The
Passage from
Virgin to Bride.” It
has been pointed
out that the latter broke with illusory
traditions of the time for the title of
the work was written directly onto
the front of the canvas, drawing
attention to the materials, colour
and surface of the painting itself.
The text does demand some
attention for more than a moment
however, because the words THE
PASSAGE are capitalised (“LE
PASSAGE de la vierge a la
marieé”) suggesting that the
painting might embody or represent
some kind of RITE OF PASSAGE.
A century later,
in 2012, I was
visiting Munich
f o r
m y
upcoming
retrospective
and decided to
walk through
t h e A l t a
Pinakothek,
forgetting
everything I
had ever read
or been taught
about the
mother of all
tricksters in the
twentieth century
Avant Garde, and
trying to imagine
myself looking
through his eyes
afresh. What could
he have been
looking at, or looking
f o r, i n a d a i l y
meditation ?
One painting in
particular did catch
my eye on account
of the fact that it too
bore its title inscribed directly upon
the front of the canvas, Albrecht
Dürer's “Self-Portrait at TwentyEight Years Old Wearing a Coat
with Fur Collar” from 1500. To the
right of the artist's penetrating
gaze, he inscribed the canvas with
the text "Albertus Durerus Noricus
ipſum me propriis ſic effingebam
coloribus ætatis anno XXVIII"
which translates as "Albert Dürer of
Nuremberg, I so depicted myself
with colors, at the age of 28"
Staring at this 500 year old self
portrait, something seemed
extremely familiar in an uncanny
sort of way, reminding me of
Duchamp. Perhaps it was simply
the seed sewn by artist Rudolf
Herz, who suggested that
Duchamp might have been inspired
by Dürer's deadpan stare when he
asked future Nazi photographer
Heinrich Hoffmann to photograph
him for Apollinaire's book “Les
Peintres Cubists” ? Thinking as an
artist myself however, I was certain
that such a gaze alone would surely
not be the reason for daily visits
over a three
month period !
Staring eye to
eye, from one
artist to another,
a c r o s s
5
centuries of selfportraits, it
suddenly struck
me where I had
seen this image
before. Man Ray's
iconic 1921
portrait of Marcel
Duchamp as
Rrose Sélavy
features a coat with a fur collar,
almost exactly the same as Dürer's.
Moreover the feminine hands
(actually those of Picabia's lover
Germaine Everling) seem to be
drawing attention to the fur collar in
a manner not unlike Dürer's own
hand gesture. In addition to the
iconic Rrose Sélavy portrait, I
recalled at least two portraits of
Duchamp wearing a similar fur
coat, as well as an atypical 1950's
version of Rrose Sélavy in a blonde
wig with curls strikingly similar to
Dürer's locks.
The title of the Dürer self-portrait
makes specific reference to the
importance of “colour” and
Duchamp did mention precisely
that in relation to his interest in the
work of Lucas Cranach. Was
Duchamp
sending us
towards
Cranach
that we
might be
blind to his
real source
o
f
inspiration,
Albrecht
Dürer ? We
do know
afterall, that
he was a
consummat
e liar telling
the world
that he had
given up
making art in
order to play
chess when
he was in
fact working
very hard on
“ É t a n t
Donnés” all
along.
T
h
e
significance
of the fur coat eludes me, but it must
have been so important for Dürer
that it is mentioned the title of the
painting, important enough at least
that Duchamp thought it worth
visually quoting. I wondered if the
age 28 might not also be significant
? A quick biographical check left me
a little disappointed in my treasure
hunt for clues because he was 25 in
1912 as he made his daily
pilgrimage to visit Dürer. On the
other hand, I realised that he would
28 years old a mere 3 years later,
the very same year that he
“officially”
dates as
t
h
e
beginning
of “The
B r i d e
Stripped
Bare by
H
e
r
Bachelors,
Even.” The
choice of
dating the
“ L a r g e
Glass” (as
it became
known) in
1915 is not
a t
a l l
random
because
he had
already
made a
s k e t c h
c a l l e d
“ F i r s t
Study For
L a r g e
G l a s s ”
w h i c h
historically
would locate the birth of the work in
1912 and not 1915 so the choice of
dating is precise and very specific.
Moreover both “The Bride” and
“The Passage from Virgin to Bride”
could be considered part of the
“Large Glass” for they both already
contained the complete image of
enigmatic bride. The choice to date
the “Large Glass” to 1915, in the
artist's 28th year must surely be in
reference to Dürer. I wondered if I
might not be going too far beyond
the safety of art history's text books,
but then again I consoled myself
remembered the 'de rigeur'
comparison of “Étant Donnés” with
Dürer's “Perspective Machine”
from 1525, in which a seated man
(the artist) directs his eye from the
pointed top of an obelisk through a
grid window in contemplation of a
with the knowledge that Duchamp
had made a religion out of chance
and that he might be more than a
little amused by the journey my
eyes were taking me upon.
prostate naked woman with open
legs. Of course it does not take a
massive leap into the imagination
to realise that what Dürer was
looking at was the very same image
that has been immortalised in
“Étant Donnés” (as well as “l'Origin
du Monde”).
Searching for an “official” link
between the two artists I
Dürer's perspective machine, at the
image of the fully clothed artist
seated to the right, with a his grid on
the table in front of him, staring at a
naked woman on the other side of
the table and once again my
photographic memory yelled out in
protest for it reminded me of yet
another portrait image of Duchamp,
of him playing chess with Eve
Babitz at his 1968 Pasadena
retrospective. Duchamp was
quoting himself quoting Dürer's
over and over again.
All of a sudden, my photographic
memory yelled out to me,
EUREKA, for the image of the artist
with his eye, close to the (phallic)
pointed obelisk, gazing through the
window was none other than
Duchamp's own eye in another
work “To Be Looked at (from the
Other Side of the Glass) with One
Eye, Close to, for Almost an Hour.”
How could I have missed that
before ?
I looked again at the image of
Marcel Duchamp's “Large Glass”
has been referred to as a machine
and Dürer's perspective machine
seems to have had an influence in
more ways than one through
numerous works of art across six
decades. We do know that
Duchamp was interested in the
fourth dimension and that he had
shifted the perspective of the 1914
painting “Network of Stoppages” in
order to construct the bachelor
machine for the “Large Glass,” so I
wondered if perspective might not
be the key. In 1506, a few years
after his Alte Pinokathek self-
portrait, Dürer wrote a letter to
Pirckheimer in which he said “I shall
have finished here in ten days; after
that I should like to ride to Bologna
to learn the secrets of the art of
perspective, which a man is willing
to teach me.” Since the very first
time my art history professors had
mentioned this, I marvelled at how
a man capable of painting the 1500
self-portrait might want to learn “the
art of perspective” ? In 1506 Dürer
was already a very accomplished,
respected, talented and versatile
artist, who surely did not need to
Widow” (1920) are exactly the
same as the “Mona Lisa.”
Besides, Dürer's “Self-Portrait at
Twenty-Eight Years Old Wearing
a Coat with Fur Collar” did seem
to bare an uncanny resemblance
to da Vinci's “Salvator Mundi” and
the hand on the fur coat is
practically the same as Cecilia
Gallerani's hand on the ermine's
fur in Leonardo's “Lady with an
Ermine” (1489-90)
Sitting in a Munich Beerhall, I
scanned through my art school
learn how to make lines disappear
upon a horizon ! Unless
“perspective” may refer to
something else entirely ?
The person that Dürer went to learn
this “art of perspective” from was
none other than Luca Pacioli, who
had also mentored Leonardo da
Vinci in the same. I was intrigued by
the possible link to da Vinci, for I
had only just discovered by
absolute coincidence that, if you
include the base plate, the
dimensions of Duchamp's “Fresh
more like a halo to me. The
composition and features were all
screaming out like a red flag in a
bullfight and set off a chain reaction
that has lead me all the way through
into writing these words, more than
a year later.
memories, thinking about the
endless flashes of art history slides
putting me onto a hangover sleep
as they panned across the
centuries of old master paintings.
Well on my way into another
Bavarian hangover through the
bottom of yet another jug of beer I
looked at my printout of “The
Passage from Virgin to Bride”
The composition and symbolism
that I suddenly saw is none other
concentrating on the (inverse) “L”
form on the lower right and it began
to look more and more like an arm
lifting out from the darkness. On the
left, the “tube” or “pipe” started to
look more and more like a staff. The
central round crescent shape that
would later become the “head” of
the bride, started to look more and
than Leonardo's “Virgin on the
Rocks” (London National Gallery
Version 1495-1508 / Louvre
Version 1483-1486) I lost no time in
making a quick photoshop filter to
posterise the Duchamp painting
and overlay it upon the 2 Leonardo
da Vinci paintings to discover that
it's a dead ringer. The virgin's halo
lines up, as does the little Saint
John's staff, as well the angel's arm
on the right. Looking at the overlay,
there can be no doubt that “The
Passage from Virgin to Bride” is
quoting “The Virgin on the Rocks,”
right down to the title.
If Marcel Duchamp was quoting
Leonardo, through the perspective
prism of Dürer, what could the rite of
PASSAGE have been ? What could
the significance of “The Virgin on
the Rocks” have been for the 25
year old artist ? As I have since
marvelled as to why art historians
had never “seen” this link before, so
too had I been marvelling for many
years at yet another art historical
omission involving the very same
da Vinci paintings, another art
historical key that can only be
SEEN and not read. I wonder this is
why Duchamp called his 1917
magazine “The Blind Man” for art
history is very selective in editing
out what is seen in favour of what is
read, almost as if we should not
trust our own eyes. But then again I
am an artist so fear not the gaze of
another artist, so press on.
Holidays are not my favourite
pastime, but admit they are the
necessary glue that holds together
couples and families, so concede to
the annual ritual of worshipping the
Sun. But still I tend to get very
restless, so sought out other ways
of entertaining my mind on the
crowded beaches, eventually
falling into the “Da Vinci Code”
conspiracy theories. I was drawn to
their quasi art historical aspect for it
encouraged me to consider that art
might be able to function in ways
other than investment.
Ironically the da Vinci code
conspiracy centres in truth upon a
single painting by another artist
entirely, Poussin's “Et in Arcadia
Ego.” Treasure hunters and
conspiracy theorists alike have
spent decades trying to line up the
rocks, following the lines, fingers,
shadows and features, overlaying
them upon the landscape around
Rennes le Chateau in search of the
missing Templar and/or Cathar
Tr e a s u r e s . T h e a t t e m p t s a t
decoding the painting are as
amusing as
t h e y a r e
entertaining,
but very few
people seem
to have taken
the time to
actually look at
th e p a i n t i n g
itself. The so
called “code”
is not at all that
complex and
i n
f a c t
screams out in
frustrated rage.
On the left are two figures, one of
whom is kneeling and pointing to
the rock whilst the other rests upon
his staff, both of which are literally
the visual amalgamation of the
Saint John figures in the two
versions of da Vinci's “Virgin on the
Rocks.” In the London version, the
second of the two, Saint John
wears a white cloth and holds a
staff in his hand, exactly as the rear
figure in the Poussin painting, but
his pose is that of the figure kneeing
in front of him. This is the exact
same staff that initially caught my
eye in Duchamp's
“Passage from
Virgin to Bride”
The man with the
red robe, leaning on
a stone to the right in
the Poussin
painting, together
with the “angel” in
front of him, are the
amalgamation of the
angel in the two da
Vinci paintings. The
red robe and
pointing index
finger of the da
Vi n c i p a i n t i n g
c a n n o t b e
missed and is
very clearly the
historical source
for Poussin's
man in the red
robe resting on
the rock. The
b l u e
a n d
yellowish robe of
da Vinci's Louvre
painting have
similarly been translated by
Poussin into the blue and yellow
dress of the “angel” in the
foreground with her hand resting on
the man's back. Curiously and not
without coincidence I believe, the
only known certified portrait of
Leonardo da Vinci is that painted by
Raphael for his “School of Athens,”
in which Leonardo has been cast in
the central role of Plato, wearing a
red robe over one shoulder, with
index finger pointing up whilst
Aristotle, besides him, wears a blue
robe with hand outstretched in
exactly the same two hand
gestures as the London version of
“Virgin on the
Rocks” and
Poussin's “Et in
Arcadia Ego”
My mind was
reeling and the
Bavarian Beers
seemed to be flow
like an eternal
fountain of youthful
fantasy, but I could
not leave Munich
before shedding
some kind of light
on what the nature of Duchamp's
rite of PASSAGE might have been.
Could I link Duchamp with da Vinci
via Poussin in any other way than
with my eyes ?
I thought about the awful 1968
series of etchings that Duchamp
made towards the end of his life.
"Selected Details after Ingres II"
featuring a line drawn image copied
after Ingres' “Oedipus and the
Sphinx”. Lo and behold, the man
leaning on his staff with one foot
upon a rock, wearing a red robe
over his shoulder and pointing
index finger has returned once
again. Duchamp is quoting Ingres,
who is quoting Poussin quoting da
Vinci, who studied perspective from
the same person as Dürer. At this
point I begin to rule out
coincidence, for Ingres painted
“Oedipus and the Sphinx” at the
Villa Medici, the very same Prix de
Rome academy that had been
created for Poussin before death
intervened. Moreover he painted it
in 1808 in his 28th year.
As if I might need yet another
quotation, Duchamp's best friend,
Francis Picabia also cited Ingres'
“Oedipus and the Sphinx” in a 1922
canvas called “La Feuille de Vigne”
(Fig Leaf), yet another man with
raised foot on a (now round) stone
with the title (as well as “Dessin
Francais”) once again written
directly on the front of the painting.
In the avalanche of coincidences that just kept on coming, I remembered that
“La Feuille de Vigne” was painted over an earlier painting called “Hot Eyes”
recalling both Duchamp and Picabia's 1919 play on words L.H.O.O.Q. which
transliterates as "Elle a chaud au cul" meaning "She is HOT in the arse."
Duchamp's own 1950 “Female Fig Leaf” was cast off the genitals of “Étant
Donnés” and so the never-ending line seems to spirals and twist and turn,
back and forth.
It might be worth mentioning that Ingres made a second painting of “Oedipus
and the Sphinx” in 1864, Poussin painted two versions of his “Et in Arcadia
Ego,” one in 1627 and the other more infamous version in 1637/1638,
Leonardo made two versions of “The Virgin on the Rocks” and of course
Duchamp made two versions of his own magnum opus, being “The Bride
Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors,
Even” (1915-23) and “Étant
Donnés (Given: 1 The Waterfall,
2. The Illuminating Gas, “ (1946 –
1966)
The second of Duchamp's
etchings quoting Ingres was
"Selected Details after Ingres I,"
in which another man, this time
with his arm upright, refers to
I n g r e s ' 1 8 1 4 p a i n t i n g “ Tu
Marcellus Eris,” being the
moment in the “Aeneid” when
Octavia feints as Virgil relates the
story of Marcellus' death. As the
words “Et in Arcadia Ego” have
multiple translations and meanings
depending on the reader and
interpreter, so too the exact
translation of “Tu Marcellus Eris” is
contested. The translation that
makes the most sense in the
context of this story might be that a
new or resurrected Marcellus will
be born, that from death shall grow
another life. It certainly follows in
the same spirit, the translation of
“Et in Arcadia Ego” as being “Even
in paradise you shall find me
(death)”
Mircea Eliade suggested that
around the world rites of passage
are built upon the notion of the
symbolic death and rebirth of the
initiate. It was not long after his
return from Munich that Marcel
Duchamp declared that painting
was dead and eventually in 1918
made his final painting called
“T'um” and once again baffled
viewers with its enigmatic title. In
the light of the last series of
etchings quoting Ingres, surely
“T'um” must be referring to “Tu
Marcellus Eris” for out of the death
of Marcellus, the death of classical
painting, a new Marcel was born,
the Marcel Duchamp of the “Large
Glass” ? Once again “T'um” fits the
da Vinci, Dürer, Poussin, Ingres
cycles of iconography and symbolic
perspective, for it features yet
another hand with pointing index
finger, pointing towards as an
endless series of overlaid colours.
It will never be clear exactly what
the rite of passage was that Marcel
Duchamp underwent in Munich in
1912, but it certainly seemed to
have involved a cycle of references
through the chains of art history,
from one generation of artists
through another, all the way back to
Leonardo da Vinci and possibly
Lucas Cranach. The fur coat, the
age of 28, symbolic perspective,
and of course colours all seem to be
part of the rite. One might guess, as
too many have, that the “initiation”
might have been alchemical, or
even imagine the workings of
secret societies, but that would all
be imaginative interpretation. The
only things that we can know for
certain are those that the eyes can
see, for good paintings do not
change their colours nor their
forms. We know as fact that “The
Bride Stripped Bare by Her
Bachelors, Even” was conceived in
Munich in 1912 but dated from the
artist's 28 year, that Marcel
Duchamp created two very
important canvasses in Munich that
same year, both of which contained
the visual, symbolic and
iconographic structure that would
eventually transform into the large
glass. Upon his return to Paris,
Duchamp presented “The Bride,”
perhaps the most significant of all
his efforts in Munich, to his best
friend Francis Picabia and the rest
of this story remains to be
continued.