between Arp and Bryen
Through the most precious and the most humble materials, the most rigorous plastic disciplines or the projections of chance which he happily gathers in certain of his works, Arp continues to be one of the most prestigious inventors of forms, non-forms, and poetry in our time. This diversity conceals a marvelous success in creative action, which makes him so much himself in his sculptures, his poems, his reliefs, and his woodcuts, and makes it necessary for us to know the genesis and development of his collages so that we may grasp the entire adventure of the absolute in present-day art. --Bryen
BRYEN: My dear Arp, the adventure of your collages begins, I think,
in the occult.
ARP: Certainly, I actually did my first collages for an occultist
friend in Paris in 1914. They were mysterious porticos meant to
replace mural painting and evoking the architecture of palm bran-
ches or fishbones. Rosenberg, upon seeing those collages, even
spoke about a contract. I was living on Rue Gabrielle at the time,
and then on Rue du Mont-Cenis.
In Zurich in 1915 I did collages in paper and cloth composed
on a diagonal line. They were animated, and compositionally they
were oriented more toward futurism than cubism.
BRYEN: In their collages the cubists employ a real material rather
than painting one: newsprint, painted paper, etc. What connection
is there between your collages and this cubist problem?
ARP: My collages were made entirely of paper, and neither drawn nor
painted. They were not speculative-- I was haunted by the idea of
doing something absolute. Cubism introduced perspective into its
papiers collés, whereas I used paper to construct my plastic realites.
These collages were shown at the Tanner Gallery in Zurich in 1915,
and it was there that I first met Sophie Taeuber. She showed me her
drawings, her tapestries, and her embroideries, which were composed
exclusively of vertical and horizontal lines.
BRYEN: When you make a collage you stick a space together, whereas
in painting you have to paint your space. Isn't there a connection
with Byzantine mosaics?
ARP: That's right. People are always claiming that the collage is a
modern technique. But actually it's an ancient technique analogous
to Byzantine mosaics. The collage is less refined than painting, the
levels are introduced directly, they are predetermined.
BRYEN: African art had such a great influence on the cubists; isn't it
a more direct product of mental structure than Oceanic art? The latter
with its applications and incrustations strikes me as being more natural
and more psychical, as being closer, say, to your collages.
ARP: I think Oceanic art is a stronger influence on our modern art now
than African art.
Ever since childhood I've been obsessed by a quest for perfection.
An imperfectly cut paper made me sick-- I had to use a paper cutter.
My collages began to come undone and show blisters. Thus I introduced
decline and death into my compositions. I reacted by shunning precision
from one day to the next. Instead of cutting the paper, I tore it up
with my hands. I made use of objects I found on the beach, and I com-
posed natural collages and reliefs.
I thus acted like the Oceanians, who never worry about the perma-
nence of their materials, when making masks, and use perishable mater-
ials like sea shells, blood, and feathers.
BRYEN: How do you distinguish between your collages and your reliefs?
ARP: I don't-- there is no difference between them, except in thickness.
My reliefs are screwed down, my cartoons are stuck together with glue,
and my papers with white paste.
BRYEN: In your latest reliefs, stains have sometimes appeared. Are
these stains an echo of papiers déchirés? All in all, there seems to
be a dialectic in your work: between the precise and the imprecise,
or between the absolute and chance. It is an art of memory and an
art of hope.
ARP: Yes, the stains on my reliefs are like papiers déchirés, placed
according to the laws of chance.
BRYEN: Are there distinct periods in your collage technique?
ARP: During the dada period I was morbidly obsessed with the idea of
an incommunicable absolute. The problem of object-language cropped up
in 1920: the navel, the clock, the doll, etc. Later on these periods
were very mixed up. When I make papiers déchirés, I feel happy. What
diverts me once again from these procedures is the fact that there is
no longer a person forming within me. I gain peace and calm, but I
lose as a creator. Thus I am forced to become a "shoemaker" again,
for in a state of relaxation I am no longer capable of forming.
BRYEN: Do your collages form an Arpian mythology? Do certain forms
that other people cannot interpret correspond to precise forms for you?
ARP: The collages that you call memory collages contain a whole mythology.
There is a series of them in the Arpaden published by Schwitters and in
Elemente, which came out in Switzerland. They are navels, dolls, flower-
helmets, door-birds, etc.
BRYEN: Can one envisage a collage language like poetic diction?
ARP: No, no more than one can in music.
BRYEN: What part does color play in your collages? I believe you
mainly use complementary colors or black and white.
ARP: I use very little red. I employ blue, yellow, a little green, but
mainly, as you say, black, white, and gray. There is in me a certain need
for communicating with the human being. Black and white equal writing.
BRYEN: What does your obsession with the vertical signify?
ARP: The vertical line aims at infinity. When I think of the afterlife,
I don't think I can attain it with scientific means, or with the help of
technology or progress. I can attain it by faith.
BRYEN: Do your collages have psychic causes, as far as you can tell?
ARP: I'm convinced they do, but I can't explain it by means of reason.
Recently something curious happened: I sent a manuscript entitled On
One Leg to a publisher in Germany. A month later I broke my leg.
BRYEN: Do you believe that your collages are a visible poetry?
ARP: Yes, they are a poetry made with plastic means.