Tristan Tzara, the cool dad of Dadaism—or how to write using the Tristan Tzara method
Every page should explode, either because of its staggering absurdity, the enthusiasm of its principles, or its typography...
Tristan Tzara, born in Romania in 1896, did not live a happy life. He survived two world wars and faced the challenges of being a Jew in Europe during the Holocaust. Nonetheless, he was an extraordinary man - the father of Dadaism, who wrote plays, poems, and essays, directed films, painted, and composed music.
And no, you probably haven't heard of him.
While it may not come as a surprise that it is difficult to find any fun facts about Tzara's life, it is a bit of a shame that everything available about the poor man is so hideously boring. Even a quick glance at Tzara's Wikipedia page would cure the worst insomniac... So, let's try to breathe some life into this strange and talented man.
1. In the 21st century, we would define Tzara as multi-ethnic. Therefore, two different cultures tried to claim his talent for their arsenal. In fact, Tzara was born in Romania, lived all over Europe, and spoke Yiddish as his first language. Due to racist laws, he wasn't considered a Romanian citizen until 1918. Perhaps this is why much of his later work is in French, as it would have been easy to have little regard for Romania.
2. Another factor that must have confused young Tzara's identity was his education at the Saint Sava National College, which certainly sounds Catholic.
3. Oh, and Tzara's birth name was Samy Rosenstock. Apparently, "Tristan Tzara" is a Romanian pun.
Romania was not directly involved in World War I, so Tzara traveled to Switzerland during the war, which was (of course) neutral. Scholars have interpreted this as an act of pacifism, but Tzara's later involvement in the French Resistance and the Spanish Civil War would suggest that it was much more complicated. Either way, it's clear that the social changes brought about by the supposedly "great" war had a massive impact on Tzara... And how could it not?
Ever keen to label artistic movements that rebel against clear definition, stuffy academics claim that Dadaism was founded in Zurich, in a cabaret bar (Voltaire), in 1916. I’m sure I’ve heard this story before, but it involved the devil, rock and roll, and a crossroads at midnight… Although Dadaism was ‘officially’ created in 1916, the New York Dadaists were active in 1915, and the movement was over by the early 1920s.
I guess no one told Tzara this because he published the Seven Dada Manifestos in 1924. The book calls for “absolute faith in any God that is the immediate product of spontaneity,” which could, ironically, be the God of Dada itself. Two more men were involved in the creation of the Dada Manifestos:
Jean Arp—sounds like a French name, but it wasn’t;
Hugo Ball, whose name indicates that he could be a fictitious upper-class villain in any spy novel ever written.
Dada is not modern at all; instead, it is a return to a quasi-Buddhist religion of indifference. Dada adds an artificial sweetness to things like the snow of butterflies coming out of a conjurer's skull. Dada is stillness and does not understand passions.
The cabaret was (not surprisingly) frequently raided by the police, which meant that Tzara himself was often at odds with them. Given Dadaism's anti-authoritarian stance, it's hard to imagine that this did anything but enhance its reputation.
I, too, have had run-ins with the Swiss police, but that's because I once took a nap on a bench in a Swiss airport. It's just one of the many ways I resemble Tzara... It makes me wonder - what if I am his reincarnation?
To drum up additional publicity, Tzara and Arp announced they were going to duel and invited Jakob Christoph Heer to be their witness. One might assume this was because they found Heer’s work tedious and colorless, but his books are so widely forgotten that I can’t tell you if that’s true or not :)
The Cabaret Voltaire held its final Dadaist performance in 1918, and there was a melee. The audience fought with the performers, but the show went on…
I read somewhere that the Dada movement “consisted of artists who rejected modern capitalist society's logic, reason, and aestheticism, instead expressing nonsense, irrationality, and anti-bourgeois protest in their work.”
What a lie! This movement was provocative, traumatic, revolutionary, and hilarious.
Tristan Tzara often insisted - ‘DADA DOES NOT MEAN ANYTHING.’ However, psychoanalyst and Dada poet Richard Huelsenbeck was more insightful, stating it was:
‘the child’s first sound that expresses the primitiveness, the beginning at zero, the new in our art.’
The movement transformed childhood games into constructive activities for adults, and performances like the Dada Night of 1916 into absurd Tea Parties, with Tzara playing the role of a Mad Hatter. (He had promoted his intention to urinate in various colors and was offended when the exhibition was not permitted.)
Dadaist works of art are usually collages, items that state an opposite purpose, such as the Mona Lisa with a mustache! One avant-garde and iconic item was an upside-down urinal, autographed by the artist (who used a fake name), which museums have tragically lost. This is, to me, side-splittingly hilarious… The joke seems to have been lost on the art critics - although, to be fair, the joke was on the art critics.
Even now, the MoMA has an exhibition called DADAGLOBE RECONSTRUCTED.
The original Dadaglobe was an attempt to bring together 50 artists from 10 countries to showcase existing artwork and inspire more. It was never completed because the artists were broke. The MoMA’s calling its “reunion” a “reconstruction” seems to indicate that they have (accidentally) gotten the point. Also, part of the display includes “photographic self-portraits.” This has got to be the most pretentious way of saying “selfie” I’ve come across.
With Dadaism over, Tzara moved on to writing plays, holding mock trials for antisemitism, and, eventually, supporting the Republicans in the Spanish Civil War.
For the unaware, the Spanish Civil War was absolutely brutal: mass graves are still littered over the countryside.
Salvador Dali, who had been kicked out of the Dadaist movement, was massively impacted by the war, as was George Orwell. The latter joined a British socialist militia to fight with the Republicans. His book Homage to Catalonia chronicled his experiences, and further critiques of the situation pop up in Animal Farm and 1984. Described as “World War Two in miniature,” the Nationalists were supported by fascists in Italy and Nazis in Germany.
After the Spanish Civil War came the Second World War, during which Tzara lived in Vichy, France, and ran a secret radio broadcast as part of the resistance. He could not return to his native Romania, which only recognized his citizenship in 1918 and stripped him of it in 1942 as part of new draconian anti-Semitic laws.
! The Romanian regime also banned Tzara’s books.
In 1944, Tristan Tzara worked for L’Eternelle Revue, a French Communist newspaper edited by Jean-Paul Sartre. It had many incredible contributors, including Picasso.
As we see, Tzara’s life was never easy… He lived to fight tyranny wherever he found it through art and protest.
Any work of art that can be understood is the product of journalism. The rest, called literature, is a dossier of human imbecility for the guidance of future professors.
Within this lens, it’s easy to see Dadaism as the joyous and contrary rebellion of youth that eventually withered and gave way to something more rigid and direct. Creativity as rebellion is fine, but when the fascists surround you, and millions are executed for their ethnicity, it doesn’t seem enough. If Tzara were still alive today, it would be fascinating to discuss the Israel-Palestine situation, Barbados’ rejection of its colonialist past, the dissolution of the USSR, the rise of Putin, and the current situation in Ukraine.
It is tragic that a man who dedicated his life to fighting for what was right and fair passed away so young. A portrait created in 1923 captures Tzara, appearing older than his years, gazing down in despair. Later photographs from the end of his life show him looking amused and distracted, yet there is always a hint of sadness on his face.
He passed away at age 67 and is buried in Paris.
WHY TZARA? We don’t care, Angela, unless he can help us win the Nobel Prize in the next five years.
I can't promise you that, but let me tell you a secret: Anthony Burgess used Tzara's method, too... In fact, he adapted it to work perfectly for writing longer fiction.
LET’S BEGIN. HOW TO?
(Because… just shut up, Angela, and explain the principle of this magical writing)
Well, I can share how I’m writing with this method—usually, a chapter a day (1000-1500 words max). I don’t cut newspapers (they are mostly digital now) or books.
THE ORIGINAL METHOD
Take a newspaper.
Take some scissors.
Choose from this paper an article of the length you want to make your poem.
Cut out the article.
Cut out each of the words that make up this article and put them all in a bag.
Shake gently.
Next, take out each cutting one after the other.
Copy conscientiously in the order in which they left the bag.
HOW I WRITE
I prefer to write in the library (I live 10 minutes from my city's central library). I choose a lovely spot and pick 10-15 books from different genres and topics. It could be physics, food, fantasy, crime… whatever you feel like grabbing. My advice—don’t think much because IT DOESN’T MATTER.
Important: the books should be in a different genre.
Let’s start: I’ll open Books 1 and 2 and choose a phrase (I recommend using phrases rather than words). Then, I'll open Books 3 and 4 and choose a phrase there, and so on. Let me do that in real-time while you sit there and enjoy your coffee…
Here are my 9 books (random/home pick):
Here are my 9 phrases (or words):
1) Naked in the moonlight
2) The iron gate stood open
3) “Why do we have to go there?”
4) Illegal Gambling club
5) Lucid glow
6) Said it very loud
7) We must be social
8) By ten o’clock, it was pitch-dark
9) I feel like your dad
HERE IS THE TEXT I wrote (without thinking much):
“Why do we have to go there, Heat, darling?” Popps said it very loud.
“Because we must be social, and neighbors expect us to show up tonight.”
At the illegal gambling club? Popps thought. No, I shouldn’t be doing this. What if I run into someone I owe money?
By ten o’clock, it was pitch dark. The moon cast a lucid glow on the corner of the house. The iron gate stood open, and their green Porsche awaited a trip out of town. After locking the door, Popps paused for a moment. He watched his wife run to the car, almost naked in the moonlight: elegant, slender, and perfect.
“I feel like your dad, Heat... Are you really going to wear this dress? For those idiots?" Popps complained again.
It takes time to get used to this method, but nowadays, I don’t write anything down; I just type the text all at once in Word—clean. I also don’t edit—as you see, there’s really not much to edit. You can also reuse the books repeatedly...
What do you think? Try it and send me your nine-or-ten-book piece :) I’d love to read it. Or you can just mention me.
Long live Tzara and his incredible method of writing!
Are you new here? Check out my WHO IS ANGELA page to learn more about me. I write absurd, satire, comedy, and adult humor.
Do you have a friend who could use more fun in their life? :)
Feel free to share this (or any) post with anyone interested in satire, absurdity, or humor.
This definitely creates absurd situations! What a fun writing method!
I love the way you frame that—saying Tzara’s Wikipedia page would cure the worst insomniac instead of just saying it would put you to sleep. Also, I’ve been thinking about how Dadaism, which inspired Surrealism, really feels like one of the key inspirations for today’s shock art. The way Dada challenged norms and embraced absurdity seems to have paved the way for the provocative and often confrontational nature of modern shock art.