Marcel Duchamp was both an artist and a chess player, but until now, little was known of his chess activities. In analyzing Duchamp's games--seeing how he reacted in specific situations during play--we can better understand how his mind worked, and gain insight into the strategies that motivated his work as an artist. Duchamp saw a correlation between art and chess, and actively sought opportunities to combine the two seemingly unrelated disciplines. Not only did he love the game, but he was aware of the reputation of chess as an intensely cerebral pursuit, and to the end of his life, he remained committed to challenging the French adage "d'etre bete comme un peintre" ("to be stupid like a painter"), raising his art to equivalently complex, intellectual heights. Naumann shows us just how deeply intertwined the two activities were for Duchamp.
If you get the beauty of something like a chess position, not just because of the 'retinal' impact of the organization of the pieces but rather by realizing in your mind the ramifications of an elegant blow in a purely mental struggle, you can understand how the contributions of Duchamp may not be the "prettiest" but are something real and tremendously important in the history of western art.
This is not an easy argument to make casually and there's a good reason why Duchamp remains simultaneously the most influential and least understood artist of the twentieth century. This book is a great contribution as it puts emphasis into a fundamental aspect of the puzzle, something that is more than a metaphor, it's an underlying spirit for everything else in Duchamp's oeuvre: Chess.
If you happen to be into chess and modern art this book will be a delight. It is divided in three pieces, first a sober, factual, but amenable essay that parallels Duchamp's life with the stages of a chess game, discussing in some length conceptualization of his work. It is punctuated by rewarding quotes from Duchamp himself and makes clear to what extent chess can help understand even the most cryptic of Duchamp's output.
The second essay, a more speculative one (and that is ok for Duchamp's works are machines to generate interpretations), delves mainly into history and a decomposition of the piece "The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even," making a case for the extent to which chess and sex inform each other in Duchamp's work.
Finally, and much to the delight of hardcore aficionados there's a selection of actual Duchamp's chess games, annotated with the beautiful icons created by Duchamp himself, with very accessible and accurate analysis.
Was super excited to get this book without knowing a whole lot about the authors beforehand - I like a lot of Duchamps work and obviously love chess do was particularly intrigued by the book and a friend of mine had to ship it from the US for me.
Neumann’s essay relies on a particular understanding of chess and thought that I’m not sure holds up (and I think it’s clear he’s relying on second hand accounts of chess history that aren’t relayed correctly) and a tenuous metaphor of duchamp’s overall artwork as corresponding to the stages of a chess game is the central thesis. The stages of a chess game themself aren’t as static as this metaphor would require - the conceptualisation of duchamps career in this trajectory is interesting but is ultimately unconvincing to me; even if it’s clear chess was more important to him than even I imagined. It’s more of an okay biography than an argument; and even then it leaves some areas unexplored I’d love to hear more about (Duchamp disdained commercial activities?? Tell me more!!)
As much as I didn’t completely love the first essay - it gets so much worse. Bailey’s essay starts infused with Freud, and honestly, I’m so tired. Can we please stop with the ‘chess is actually an oedipal metaphor’ also? Please read some Deleuze for my sake. There’s a couple of cited quotes here that are really interested but often I wish I was reading them instead of this essay (including an interesting section about chess morality and cardinals denouncing the game); and I’m not really left with a desire to see the large glass in person or even care about it. Bailey at one point claims we can conclude that the title of the queen as a chess piece necessarily derives from the virgin; despite his most recent citation saying this is an unsupported claim. I wish I could be paid to write something as contrived as this.
It’s left to Shahade (whose writing I enjoy usually) to rescue the book with her 15 annotated games at the end. There’s some pretty bad typos to start; pieces being named on errant squares in game 1 that immediately made me distrust the annotations (sometimes I think annotated games make mistakes but actually. I make the mistakes reading the game incorrectly. This is not one of those times!) - however the games are honestly the highlight of the book for me. They’re still a bit lightly annotated for me (sorry Jen I don’t have your huge chess brain) but the selected games are all instructive and gorgeous and I had so much fun reading them!!
It’s not quite enough to redeem the whole book though - I think it’s probably still worth a purchase if you’re interested in Duchamp (maybe more so than chess) but it’s a real mixed bag and I’m a little disappointed ultimately I think.
I want to read this book because I found it sitting all alone on a shelf next to some chess boards at a chess exhibition. Its cover was all black with red letter, and Marcel Duchamp's name popped out at me, familiar from his huge influence on art history. Something about the way it was just waiting there made me really curious to dive in and see what it has to say.