|              The history of Duchamp's Bicycle Wheel has been frequently recounted and is sufficiently            known. One aspect, however, has often been considered too little: the usability of this peculiar apparatus.               | Click to enlarge |                  |             Marcel Duchamp, Bicycle Wheel, 1913 © 2000 Succession Marcel Duchamp, ARS, N.Y./ADAGP, Paris  |                      Rhonda Roland Shearer has recently pointed out that at least the second version of the Roue            de Bicyclette, created in 1916 in New York, is statically an extremely            fragile object. Could, Roland Shearer ponders, the combination of front-wheel            fork, rim and a stool be "an experiment and schematic diagram of            chance".             Duchamp himself, during his lifetime, never ceased to stress, with ostentatious            calm and persistence, the incidentalness and the insignificance of his            invention trouvé. Even though today the Bicycle Wheel            is regarded as one of the central incunabula of the ready-made-idea,            we now know that originally it had little in common with the future            ready-made .            According to Duchamp, the 1913 original as well as the 1916 version            of it were rather intended to please him personally, to be "the            'gadget' for an artist in his studio."            One of the statements used by Duchamp in several interviews is to be            remembered in this connection - in the version that was handed down            to us by Arturo Schwarz: "To set the wheel turning was very soothing,            very comforting, a sort of opening of avenues on other things than material            life of every day. I liked the idea of having a bicycle wheel in my            studio. I enjoyed looking at it, just as I enjoyed looking at the flames            dancing in a fireplace. It was like having a fireplace in my studio,            the movement of the wheel reminded me of the movement of the flames            ."            Clearly, the analogy to an open fire was not chosen arbitrarily. Duchamp,            with the flames dancing in the fireplace, found an easily intelligible            analogon for the 'contemplative' effect that the spinning spoke wheel            was supposed to have on him, at the time the first and only beholder            and user - regardless of whether he had taken delight in the spokes'            'optical flicker' or in the object's supposed instability, provoked            by the centrifugal forces acting upon it. Whether the spinning of the            rim was "very soothing, very comforting"            or rather, as Roland Shearer assumes, "hardly relaxing"            it was originally part of the idea of the Bicycle Wheel.                                   | Click to enlarge |                                                                              |                                 Marcel Duchamp, Bicycle Wheel, 1913/64 © 2000 Succession Marcel Duchamp, ARS, N.Y./ADAGP, Paris |                                  |   |                                      Should it not then be allowed, one may well ask now, to set the wheel turning even today,            following Duchamp's instruction and thus to a large extent keeping the            original idea alive? This, of course, strikes one as being quite a theoretical            question, given the museum reality. Whoever encounters one of the Bicycle            Wheel's replicas in a public collection today, be it in Cologne,            Paris, Philadelphia, New York, Stockholm or elsewhere, is confronted            with tabooing prohibition signs, exposing plinths and reprimanding museum            attendants. This confirms not only the museum's inherent paradoxical            logic of making history an actual experience by means of preserving            it, but also the shift of meaning the idea of the Bicycle Wheel            has been through in the course of the decades.          Sidney Janis has the dubious honour of having introduced a first replica, namely the third          version of the Roue de Bicyclette, into the context of an exhibition          for the first time. He did so on the occasion of the "Climax in XXth          Century Art"-exhibition early in 1951, thereby changing the object's          intellectual status as well as the meaning and the function ascribed to          it. The former "gadget" was de facto declared a designated ready-made          within the canon of Duchamp's works. The artist himself had carried out          the arrangement of the exhibits and had dated as well as signed and thus          authenticated and authorized the replica of the Bicycle Wheel in          the beginning of 1951.                                            |   |                                    | Click to enlarge |                                        |                                      |                  View of the Duchamp gallery, "The Art of Assemblage" (October 2 - November 12, 1961), The Museum of Modern Art, New York
                |                                 Some years later, in the autumn of 1961, the same Janis-replica was displayed in the legendary          exhibition "The Art of Assemblage" in the Museum of Modern Art,          once more and unquestionably so within the context of the ready-made.          The Bicycle Wheel, having been given the status of a museum piece,          was transformed into a state of visually documenting the concept of the          ready-made, which was regarded as being historical          It was no longer necessary to set the wheel turning in order to be delighted          by it; on the contrary, this was prohibited, as the American photographer          Marvin Lazarus reported on the occasion of a photo shooting with Duchamp          in the exhibition on 10 November 1961: "I wanted to move the Roue          de Bicyclette so that I could shoot through it. Duchamp moved it.          [...] the guard [...] ran over to me and asked if I had moved the object.          Before I could answer, with a little smile, Duchamp said quietly, 'No,          I did it.' The guard then turned on him and said, 'Don't you know you're          not supposed to move things in a museum?' Duchamp smiled again and speaking          very softly said 'Well, I made the object - don't you think it's all right          for me to move it a little?'""          An interesting question, now, that the artist addressed to a presumably          puzzled museum attendant. Had Duchamp been allowed to refer to his nominal          and intellectual authorship in order to obtain the privilege of usage?          This question seems too good to spoil with an answer. It raises, however,          another, more general question that shall not remain unanswered.                   What would be gained by the average visitor to an exhibition and his aesthetic experience,            if he too was allowed to set the wheel turning in an exhibition? As            far as I know, this was the case only once in the history of exhibiting            the various replicas. The touring exhibition "Art in Motion"            (Dutch: "Bewogen Beweging", Danish and Swedish: "Rörlse            i konsten"), stopping over in the Stedlijk Museum, Amsterdam, the            Moderna Museet, Stockholm, and the Louisiana Museum of Modern Art, Humblebaek,            from the spring of 1961 onwards, among other optical and kinetical works            of art put on display a replica of the Roue de Bicyclette, which,            based on the 1916 version, had been built by Ulf Linde and Per Olof            Ultvedt in May 1960. Pontus Hulten, at the time the Moderna's director,            assured me that the visitors to the exhibition had been allowed to turn            the wheel .            The spirit in those days, Hulten said, had simply been a different one            .            A different spirit? Surely, rather, it was due to the fact that the            replica, which had been built despite the lack of initial authorization,            was of a low financial value. In consequence the curators Hulten and            Sandberg could risk public use without having to fear too much damage            .                      In order to return            to the question I raised earlier: little would be achieved if the visitor            was allowed to set the wheel turning. I will confine myself to giving            two reasons, one of them concerning the curational problem: the history            of the 20th century's participatory art shows that tactily involved            viewers were always either overstrained with the offer of participation            or unable to utilize the potential of the experience proposed to them.            Allan Kaprow reported, for instance, that the visitors to his situational            environment Push and Pull - A Furniture Commedy for Hans Hofmann            from 1963 did not react the way he had hoped they would to his proposal            to alter the furnishing. Robert Rauschenberg's Black Market, in which            the visitors were supposed to exchange objects and document this exchange            with a drawing, was ransacked in 1961 while on display in the exhibition            "Art in Motion" .            George Brecht had a similar experience when presenting his Cabinet made            in 1959 - a cabinet containing several everyday objects. The intended            epistemological experience, linked to the viewers' tactile participation,            was thwarted by overzealous customers looting the Cabinet.                                                           
  |                                      | Click to enlarge |                                        |                                      | Edward Kienholz, Cockeyed Jenny, 1961/62 |                                      
  |                                        |                                      | Benvenuto Cellini, Saliera, 1540-43, Collection Kunsthistorisches Museum, Wien |                                  At the opening of Roxys,          Edward Kienholz' legendary brothel environment, in the Alexander Iolas          Gallery in 1963, one of the visitors of the vernissage urinated into the          ash can of Cockeyed Jenny, one of the whore figure .          The second reason concerns the origin of the Bicycle Wheel itself:          it would be practically impossible for visitors to a spacious exhibition          to recreate the intimate atmosphere of the studio where Duchamp had once          been able to contemplate the movement of the wheel. It would be as if          one allowed the visitors of the Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna          to use, in an allegedly authentic manner, Benvenuto Cellini's Saliera          in order to emulate François Primeur, long since covered with dust,          at his sumptuous dining table. Historical events and situations may be          portrayed vividly in a museum, but it is impossible to recreate them.          Duchamp himself, however,            was once more given the opportunity to set the wheel turning, for in            1964 the Roue de Bicyclette's shift or rather the establishment            of its meaning entered its - for the time being - last stage. Duchamp            had authorized Arturo Schwarz to produce, amongst accurate replicas            of thirteen other works of art, an edition of the Bicycle Wheel,            the number of copies being eight plus two. The production of replicas            of the Roue which, in the fifties, amounted to only a few copies,            thereby gained a new quality and quantity. The strategy of creating            almost identical remades for the sake of representing the idea of the            ready-made inevitably had to result in authenticity, originality, in            the establishment of an aura and, finally, in artificiality. Every single            piece of the Schwarz-edition, just as before with the replicas produced            by Janis and Linde, had been affixed by Duchamp with the admonition            of metaphysics, the personal signature. Signatures commonly authenticate            the will of their absent author - unless they are forced from him, which            is hardly to be assumed in the case of Duchamp/Schwarz. Duchamp had            readily given his nominal placet to a definite authorization by signing            the 'documents' presented by Schwarz. And soon the Bicycle Wheels,            representing Duchamp's imagination, advanced triumphantly through the            international museums, thereby strengthening their museumesque status            as well.                               | Click to enlarge |                                        |                                      | Photograph of Duchamp wearing a lampshade with Bicycle Wheel, 1951 © 2000 Succession Marcel Duchamp, ARS, N.Y./ADAGP, Paris |                                Duchamp, in the sixties,            may have sat in New York and Neuilly, puffing away at his cigar and            turning the wheel that had been given to him as an artist's copy from            the Schwarz-edition. If so, then probably not without being amused by            the course of things. The way the multiple Bicycle Wheels are            displayed in the museums, however, was and still is traced out differently.            The visitor of a museum or a gallery is no longer confronted with a            "gadget" but with a remade representing the idea of the ready-made.            The ease with which it had once been possible for Duchamp to set the            wheel turning has been superseded by the complexity, the import, and            the historicization of the ready-made-concept. Had Marcel Duchamp originally            intended to create works that were not art, as he wrote in 1913            then the remades, on the other hand, bear witness to the affirmative            force of an institutionalized operating system of art. The turning wheel            of history has made the Bicycle Wheel an artefact. Reciprocally,            the latter has lost its drive.                      notes          1.            Roland Shearer, Rhonda: Why            is Marcel Duchamp's Bicycle Wheel Shaking on           Its Stool?, in: www.artscienceresearchlab.org, December 1999; see            also her reply to What makes the Bicycle Wheel a Readymade by Yassine            Ghalem, in: www.toutfait.com, vol. 1, no. 2, May 2000; and "Marcel            Duchamp's Impossible Bed and other 'Not' Readymade Objects: A Possible            Route of Influence from Art to Science, Part I," in: Art &            Academe 10, no. 1 (Fall 1997), pp. 26-62; Part II in: Art & Academe            10, no. 2 (Fall 1998), pp.76-95    2.            See Duchamp in Cabanne, Pierre: Dialogues with Marcel Duchamp. New York:            Wiking, 1971, p. 74 and Schwarz, Arturo: The Complete Works of Marcel            Duchamp. 3., revised and expanded ed. New York: Delano Greenidge Editions,            1997, p. 588.    3.            Marcel Duchamp, quoted from Siegel, Jeanne: Some late Thoughts of Marcel            Duchamp. In: Arts Magazine, Vol. 43, New York, December 1968/ January            1969, p. 21, here quoted from Daniels, Dieter: Duchamp und die anderen:            Der Modellfall einer künstlerischen Wirkungsgeschichte der Moderne.            Cologne: DuMont, 1992, p. 208.    4.            Duchamp, quoted from Schwarz [1997], ibid., p. 588.    5.            Duchamp, quoted from Schwarz [1997], ibid, p. 588.    6.            Roland Shearer, Rhonda: Why            is Marcel Duchamp's Bicycle Wheel Shaking on Its Stool? In: tout-fait,            Vol. 1, Nr. 1, December 1999.    7.            Following Buettner, Stewart: American Art Theory 1945-1970. Michigan            Ann Arbor: UMI Research Press, 1981, p. 109.    8.            This is not only confirmed by the photographs documenting the mode of            presentation but also by an entry in the catalogue accompanying the            exhibition, where it says: "The 'readymades' are among the most            influential of Duchamp's works. They are ordinary objects that anyone            could have purchased at a hardware store [...]. The first readymade,            however, done in 1913 by fastening a bicycle wheel to a stool, was "assisted"            by Duchamp, and hence is an assemblage on the part of the discoverer            as well as the original manufacturer." (Catalogue The Museum of            Modern Art, New York: The Art of Assemblage. 2 October - 12 November            1961 (ed. by William C. Seitz) New York: The Museum of Modern Art and            Doubleday, 1961, p. 46.          9.            Marvin Lazarus, quoted from Gough-Cooper, Jennifer; Caumont, Jacques:            Ephemerides on and about Marcel Duchamp and Rrose Sélavy 1887-1968.            London: Thames and Hudson, 1993, no page number (entry for 11 November            1961).          10.            Pontus Hulten in a letter to the author, 26 July 2000. A contemporary            review in a newspaper from 17 March 1961 gives another hint. There it            says: "Nu geef je tegen het wiel een zetje. Wat gebeurt? Ja, precies            - het wiel gaat draanien." (English translation: "Now one            touches the wheel. What happens? Yes, precisely - the wheel starts turning.",            quoted from anon.: In A'dams museum beleeft men: De nachtmerrie van            een fietsenmaker. In: Overijsselse en zwolsche Courant, 17 March 1961,            no page number, with regards to Dr. Maurice Rummens, Stedelijk Museum,            Amsterdam).          11.            Pontus Hulten in a letter to the author, 26 July 2000.          12.            This replica was signed by the artist when Duchamp visited Stockholm            in late August, early September 1961. Today it belongs to the Moderna            Museet, Stockholm.          13.            see i.a. catalogue Museum Ludwig, Cologne: Robert Rauschenberg - Retrospektive.            27 June - 11 October 1998 [ed. by Walter Hopps and Susan Davidson].            Ostfildern-Ruit: Cantz, 1998, p. 560.          14.            see George Brecht in catalogue Kunsthalle Bern: Jenseits von Ereignissen:            Texte zu einer Heterospektive von George Brecht. 19 August - 24 September            [ed. Marianne Schmidt-Miescher; Johannes Gachnang]. Bern: Kunsthalle,            1978, p. 94.          15.            see Virginia Dwan in Stuckey, Charles F.: Interview with Virginia Dwan            conducted by Charles F. Stuckey, 21 March 1984, The Oral History Collections            of the Archives of American Art, New York Study Center, p. 8.          16.            "Peut-on faire des oeuvres qui ne soient pas d'art?" says            the 1913 facsimile note in the box à l'infintif, 1967.    
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