Dehydrated Soup

For the general public, the Aztecs alone represent precolumbian Mexico: as if the Romans were the only
people of all Antiquity! I am still not familiar with the album of Mr. Hartmann, prefaced by Mr. Soustelle, to which
Mr. Charles Estienne referred in his article in Combat of July 27 of last year.1 I find it impossible to believe that he
has made the error of attributing Chichen Itza to the Aztec culture or that he glossed over this issue to the point that
the two civilizations, ten centuries and thousands of kilometers apart, could be confused with one another. The
reader of this article would be forced to conclude that Mitla, a Zapotec center, and Chichen Itza, a Mayan and
Toltec-Mayan city, both derived from Aztec civilization. For as grave an error as this may be, it seems to me that it
can be easily remedied; that is not the case for accompanying statements which are false or deliberately confusing. It
is wrong to say that precolumbian art is abstract because it "does not imitate any forms of the external world." For
that matter, the masonic triangle, the swastica, the cross and heraldry all resort back to abstract art. If it is true that
the arts of ancient Mexico at times do not borrow anything (in appearance) from the external world, it is due to the
distillation which these forms underwent over the course many centuries by the very different cultures which
contributed to them. Although their art seems abstract because it is geometric, and may symbolize, shall we say, a
plumed serpent, an unreal being, it is no less real than the bicephalous eagles of the old coats of arms. This is the
case, if I am not mistaken, of certain decorations from Mitla, which are probably reproduced in the album of Mr.
Hartmann.

Neither the Mexican cultures of former times, nor the less advanced cultures of Oceania can be annexed by
abstraction for the simple reason that, the more primitive the culture, the less abstraction is found in their art. The
proof lies in the fact that certain Amazonian peoples, for example, do not have a single abstract word in their entire
vocabulary. How, under these conditions could they ever imagine an abstract art, if there was nothing, not a single
word, to tie it back to life itself? Although far more advanced than these primitive tribes, the peoples of ancient
Mexico certainly did not have an abstract vocabulary per se. Now, the conception of an abstract art would
presuppose the presence of abstract speculation with its corresponding vocabulary. For the ancient Mexicans, just as
for the archeologists of today (even when they declare themselves incapable of deciphering the exact meaning) there
is nothing abstract in precolumbian art. This is so true that even colors represented the four cardinal points and
decorated the entities to whom they were sometimes tied.

This leads me to discuss the abstract art defended by Mr. Charles Estienne.

In the same article cited above, he clearly poses the question, "You tell us that plasticity2 is self-contained
language. Fine. But a language always expresses something, and moreover, how can art be separated from life? In
short, what is behind abstract forms? What is their content?" A very good question, I might add. He can get no
further with the issue because this very concept of abstract art itself constitutes an error. Departing from such an
error, things can only go from bad to worse. Abstract art, like bones without meat and marrow, does not exist if
confined to represent mathematical operations or juxtaposed plates of color placed more or less harmoniously over
the canvas. It is wrong to classify Kandinsky, Miro and even Arp among the abstract artists. Kandinsky has always
rejected this label and has explained time and time again the concrete sense of the figures which compose his
paintings. Miro, an abstract painter? Don't make me laugh. The work of Miro is an excellent example of the
distillation that I spoke of with reference to precolumbian art in Mexico. His early paintings, La ferme, Terres
labourees, etc. are perfectly figurative in the full sense of the word. No case could be made to the contrary. In the
following stage, his figures are simplified, stripped down, reduced to the essential and are contracted into symbols
and transformed into a type of writing all his own. He retraces, in abridged form, an evolution similar to that of the
precolumbian art of Mexico, from the Olmecs and the other contemporary archaic cultures, to certain Mayan,
Zapotec and Aztec productions. As for Arp, one of the greatest poets of today and, without a doubt, one of the most
concrete, he would have to have the unprecedented ability of doubling his personality in order to show himself as
abstract in his painting. A concrete being before his table, he becomes abstract with paint brush in hand(?!) One
could make endless discussion about the miraculous attributes of the paint brush!

Now to return to the text of Mr. Charles Estienne: "You tell us that plasticity is a self-contained language."
I refuse to accept for a moment that plasticity is in any way cut off from life which can be expressed in ordinary
language. If this were so, we would be forced to admit the possibility of a growing number of languages, each
deprived of any intercommunication, each growing constantly and ad infinitum, each one more foreign and distant
from one another than the Earth from Jupiter or Pluto. Obviously, this line of thought has not a leg to stand on. And
if that were the case, each one of us would speak only for him/herself, in essentially the language of a deaf person.
We could consider plasticity a self-contained unit within a language system. On the other hand, if we suppose that
ordinary language contains plasticity within it, we could go on to say that pictorial language is not completely self-
sufficient, since it can be, to a great extent, translated into ordinary language. We cannot assume for an instant that it
is by accident the human species was able to think and speak, and invent a language before knowing how to sculpt,
model, engrave or paint. There is a certain natural evolution of the human species which goes hand in hand with
cultural progess. Initially, man translates his thoughts into pictorial forms, which are already expressed poetically
through language, and thus gives them concrete and material existence. His thought thus consists of an emotional-
intuitive understanding of the external world, which is triggered automatically by the invention of language. The
resulting pictorial expression portrays real and imaginary beings that correspond to the emotional-intuitive reality
based on the elements or chains of elements which link both realities: those which come directly from the
immediately recognizable external world, and those which stem from the oneiric world, which often reflects the
former. Their combination, for as diverse as it may appear at first, can easily reduced to a small number of matrix
formulas. The imaginary and real beings or types undergo a stereotyping within every ethnic group which facilitates
their identification. Ideographic writing permits, once simplified, a permanent confrontation among various
viewpoints, which, in turn, accelerates cultural development. This eventually gives rise to rational and critical
thought. Needless to say, this process comes about automatically and subliminally and still continues today. In each
stage, a type of expression emerges based on the one before it, which it enriches and which, in turn, fertilizes it.
Here we have the same old story: which came first, the chicken or the egg? The question is here resolved; the egg is
at the same time egg, rooster and chicken.

Abstract art forces us to witness an entirely different process: the rooster is changed into a hard boiled egg,
which one may peel and eat (if one so desires) but the evolution stops there, unless one includes the phenomena
involved in the digestion of the egg. The birth of so-called abstract art is the result of a mistake and also a confused
speculation as to the nature of art, of the ambition of representing (in abstract terms) the external world, where no
abstraction exists. This process exists only the fields of mathematics or philosophy. Is it at all desirable to put art at
the service of science? Reactionary politics, be they Stalinist, fascist or otherwise, have tried (and still try) to
domesticate poetry and art. Could art actually have any interest in putting itself at the service of science? That would
be about as likely as a horse putting on the bit, bridle and saddle, and inviting the rider to mount him, while
adjusting his spurs!

"Language always expresses something," says Mr. Charles Estienne; no disagreement on that account. I
might add that the one pre-existing factor of verbal expression is a person with the ambition to say something. In the
case of abstract art, this becomes a matter of poetry searching for its concrete expression. I am quite unhappy when
faced with most abstract works of art and I do not understand a thing except a lot of inarticulate babble, yet once I
am able to distinguish something, all abstraction disappears. If "language always expresses something," then the
language of abstract art should have a poetic correspondent, since art is poetry expressed in plasticity. The only
equivalents that can be found are in "Zaoum" of Zdanevitch or in the letterism of pitiful Isou.3 That should seriously
limit the development of a language of abstract art.

There is a story about a Dutchman who visits New York and sees an exhibition of Mondrian's paintings.
Although he is not familiar with Mondrian's work, he immediately recognizes the tulips of his homeland seen from
an aerial view. Thus, one of the pioneers of abstract art falls into a regionalist framework; his paintings are abstract
only to an Arab or a Swede who have never seen the Dutch tulip fields, just as precolumbian art remains abstract for
Mr. Charles Estienne. I repeat, abstraction exists only for the person unfamiliar with the subconscious determinants
of the artist. In this example of Mondrian, art, as a universal language reduces its field of action and becomes a
national one. I would characterize this as regression, not progress. I think that Mondrian probably never intended to
paint tulip fields; what does it matter if they are there?! The inexistence of abstract art is thus demonstrated by the
creator, even though, following this line of reason, the tulip fields are an involuntary creation, originating in the
artist's subconscious; thus the conscious effort towards abstraction has overcome the subconscious images which
aspire to take on concrete forms. On the other hand, if Mondrian had wanted to represent Holland's tulip fields,
abstraction would cease to exist because it then would be a mere question of simplification (not abstraction), that is,
a reduction of an object to its essential elements.

The claims made by abstraction make me uneasy since they run contrary to any human endeavors from the
beginning of civilization. From the cave paintings to cubism and surrealism, from primitive paintings to the art in
ancient Egypt, the Orient and Precolumbian America, the effort of man has been to represent that which ruminates
deep inside him. It is impossible to find an example that breaks with this trend. If abstraction is a real and profound
impulse in man, who, for whatever reason, has repressed it for centuries, then abstraction should then try to manifest
itself when the control of consciousness relaxes: in dreams and madness. Now the linking of abstraction with dreams
is ridiculous; have you ever seen an abstract dream? As for the insane, one may recall the exhibition by Wolfi,
Aloyse and Anton at the Foyer de I 'Art Brut, which is enough evidence to conclude that abstraction is completely
foreign to the mentally disturbed.4 It could be said that abstraction exists in the scribbles and blotches drawn by the
mentally retarded. Yet even so, this apparent abstraction can also be given a complete interpretation as the
Rorschach test demonstrates. As we all know, this test consists of noting a subject's reaction when presented with a
series of twelve ink blots on sheets of white and colored paper. Naturally, the results will vary when the test is taken
by a Patagonian, a Chinaman, a European, an illiterate peasant or a scientist, a madman or a person in their right
mind. The main point here is tha each person sees something. In fact, there is a surprising similarity among subjects,
despite individual symptomatic differences. Now what could be more abstract than an ink blot? Among the
innumerable subjects of the test, hardly anyone considered the ink blots as just blots and refused to go any further.
The subject always introduces a real and concrete content into the abstract image, thus clarifying the abstraction by
giving it a definite interpretation. Similar results can be obtained by another test in which the subject is asked to
arrange a circle, a square, and a triangle at random, then asking him to make of it what he will. The interpretation of
the result furnishes precise information as to the subject's psychology (circle=career, square=home, family, etc.,
triangle=sex life). Whether the abstract forms are interpreted by the tester or by the subject, the results remain the
same: the abstract forms are forced to reveal their concrete content, and in so doing once again prove that abstraction
simply does not exist.

In a recent article, Mr. Leon Degand defines the art he defends thus:5

Abstract art is one which does not use, neither in its means nor as its end, any elements of
the visible world. It does not do so as its end, since its aim has nothing whatsoever to do with
representing appearances, nor does it do so in its means, since truly abstract painting is not created
by borrowing elements from the external world and transposing, simplifying or deforming them to
the point where they becomes unrecognizable, but rather is a technique of lines, forms and colors
stripped (in principle) of any imitation of objects belonging to the visible world.

Immediately following this statement, the author clarifies: "I say in principle because...quite often certain
traces of figurative elements are are mixed in during the elaboration of the abstraction." (The italics are Mr. Leon
Degand's).

No one could more completely deny the interdependence between the artist and the external world than Mr.
Degand has done here. For him, art is no longer art in that it does not aim to express the artist's emotional perception
of the world, but is rather a mere technique (which is an end in itself). Since the technique has nothing to do with the
external world or the inner world of the artist, there can be no possible interdependence between the two. Let us
settle this matter by saying that we are no longer dealing with art, but with a pseudo-science which resorts to
plasticity to define itself. I say pseudo-science because all science actually comes from life and from the world,
however distant the connection between the two may seem. Meanwhile, the concept of abstraction as defined by Mr.
Leon Degand has no source, no link between life and art, and is thus a case of merely elaborating abstraction.
Abstraction of what? What kind of abstraction? No one can say, unless abstractionism has become a metaphysical
entity which denies any concrete representation. Even so, doesn't a metaphysical entity ultimately represent an
element of concrete thought which has been transformed over a long period of time, in the way an object may lose
its original form under the centuries of dust which cover it? Taken one step further, this argument would have
abstract art so desincarnate that ectoplasm, when placed along side it, would take on the concrete and overwhelming
form of an elephant romping through a china shop!

This is not the first time someone has tried indirectly to lead poetry or art into the terrain of science. This
undertaking has always failed and always will, since poetry and art belong to the realm of intuition and obey only
the imagination. On the other hand, science is based on direct experience and proceeds through deductive logic.
These two expressions of knowledge (artistic and scientific) only come together at their origin, where human
thought is still undifferentiated (in the same way all higher forms of life are contained in the egg). The divergence of
poetry and science has steadily increased; yet if intuition is the source of all thought, even scientific thought, it still
remains for science to offer anything to art and poetry. Intuition is still considered to be the blind dog of reason, and
not vice-versa. In reading the article by Mr. Leon Degand, the possible blame could be placed on a manifesto by
Malcolm de Chazal;6 he demands, much like a starving man dreaming of succulent dishes, that "abstract thought" be
reinserted into "concrete thought" or into a framework in which abstraction is "fleshed out" as it were, giving it
sustenance in order to live. Further along he says, "Now all we get are the dried out vegetables of abstract
vegetation." Here, Malcolm de Chazal is exactly right. What is abstract art but the packets of dehydrated soup
invented by the Americans?

"Can art be separated from life?" asks Mr. Charles Estienne. There is no clear cut answer; on the issue of
the nature of the relationship between art and life he and I are divided. It is by no means a unilateral relationship;
there is no direct line from life to art, nor vice versa. Yet if art is not considered as an integral part of life, life taken
in its totality, in all of its forms, then art becomes cut off from life and fit into a sterile formula, like a broken branch
of a tree left to dry out on the side of the road. In our era of exaggerated specialization, the metaphor of the ivory
tower is the fullest expression of the separation among artists themselves. An artist does not want to take into
consideration that his art still remains beautiful should he deign take a glance at a poem of his neighbor (or vice
versa). Obviously, no one wants to admit being shut up in an ivory tower, yet all artists seem to act as it the tower
was worth reconstructing at all costs. How many among them have actually gone out and taken a panoramic look at
the world which they claim to represent? For the great majority of them, the universe is limited to the still-life and
the portrait, unless we count the spots of paint on the palette, the tubes of paint and the paint brushes as constituting
the entire horizon. How, under these conditions, can they feel the life which they aspire to portray? It would be like
listening to a bishop talk on the subject of human love! Besides, the artistic process involves translating the complex
relationship between life and the world (both concrete phenomena) on to an emotional plane. Abstract art which
deviates from its actual meaning, devoid of emotion in its creation, is naturally incapable of evoking an emotional
response. Although little reaches him perceptively, even Mr. Charles Estienne is forced to admit (in an act of
conscience all to rare these days to be ignored) that the majority of the art works in the exhibition in the Salon des
realties nouvelles "do not attain the true meaning of the term (abstraction)." These artists cannot attain the true
meaning of this term because they are so abstract as to have nothing to say, and not having anything to say, are
incapable of expressing anything at all. They claim to belong to the movement of abstract art, not because it has
anything to do with a way of perceiving the world, but only because it hides their own vacuity. The only artists
which managed to move Mr. Charles Estienne (and myself as well) did so in inverse proportion to their use of
abstraction. Where there is only abstraction there is nothing at all, and they the expression "abstract forms" used by
Mr. Charles Estienne runs the risk of meaning the opposite. How can a form, concrete by definition, be abstract? It
is a ridiculous contradiction in terms.

If abstract art is a result of improper terminology, then the expression "non-figurative" art is hardly any
better, since it is but a synonym for the first. (I will pass over the term "non-objective* art which is absolute
nonsense. How can art boast of itself as "non-objective" when the basic aim of art is an objectivization of the world?
It would be like trying to tell someone how to use Lichtenberg's knife, the one without a blade and without a
handle!) We can no longer conceive of non-figurative art as a deviation between a model and the resulting painting,
nor as some liberty that the artist has taking with external reality in favor of his artisitic sensibility, which is the
starting point of creation; rather we should consider how it moves us to into taking the path traveled by the artist. It
seems as if non-figurative art is understood as non-imitative; that would be like saying that academism, trompe
d'oeil and even impostors like Dali still had partisans outside of official milieux, as if they were trying to be radical
somehow, when they are all reactionaries by definition.

On the basis of the preceding discussion, we can see that abstract art, if not a result of improper
terminology (Mr. Leon Degand alludes to this possibility, yet having accepted the term all too readily, does not
hesitate to use it as if it had a precise meaning) then stems from a confusion of the notions of art and science, and
thus transforms art into an ersatz of "scientific plasticity" which proceeds rationally, yet represents nothing at all
(since it is merely the elaboration of abstraction). Since it acts on a plane other than that of art, and all intuition and
imagination have been removed from it, we cannot consider abstract art as art. No truly abstract art can exist because
art comes from either the interior world of the artist or from the external world or the interdependence of the two. By
the same token, neither non- figurative nor abstract art can exist; thus art, like a ballerina passing from one partner to
another, goes back and forth between the terms abstraction and non-figurative. This activity is nothing more than
confusing and regressive, incapable of developing due to the error on which it is based. Ultimately this gives rise to
a strange sort of hybrid for whom the future holds nothing but extinction.
He de Seine, August 1949.
Benjamin Peret

(Translated by Libby Ginway)

1. Upon returning from vacation, I have confirmed that this album is the work of Mr. Pierre Verger. Mr. Hartmann
edited it before the war and just has reprinted it. Yet another error of Mr. Charles Estienne.

2. "Plasticity" is the term as shall use to translate "Ie langage plastique" which refers to all visual art forms. N. T.

3. "Zaoum" is the language invented by the Russian futurists; it consists of archaic Russian expressions, as well as
panslavic, popular and foreign expressions, all chosen for their musicality. Jean Isidore Isou is the founder of
letterism, a poetics based purely on sounds, not meaning. N.T.

4. One should also note that in popular art, as in that of prisoners, there is not the least trace of abstraction. What
could be more representational than graffiti and tattoos?

5. "De la figuration et de 1'abstraction en peinture," in the Journal de Psychologie normale et pathologique, April-
June 1949.

6. Malcolm de Chazal: "Message aux Francais" extract from the review Syntheses, no. 2, 4th year.