Analysis: Étant Donnés by Marcel Duchamp
Despite only documenting it now, Duchamp has been a big inspiration throughout this project. I've caught myself thinking about his readymades when contemplating my own work, particularly when writing on the plates and glasses as it uses a similar principle of changing pre-made things and making them art. I think there's a real bravery in choosing to this and his art is some of the most influential I've seen.
'Étant donnés: 1. La chute d’eau, 2. Le gaz d’éclairage' is no different. This piece has made me think differently about installation art as the way Duchamp sets this up makes it appear as if it has been painted. This was Duchamp's last piece of work created from 1946 to 1966, a twenty year period that the art world though Duchamp had retired from to play chess, instead, he'd been clandestinely working on this, his final piece. The title translates to 'Given: 1. The Waterfall, 2. The Illuminating Gas' in English but even that doesn't give any more clarity on the piece, other than that it features a waterfall and a gas light at first glance. The title has an almost mathematic quality about it as if this piece is a sum or is in fact the answer to the question posed, whatever that question may be. The piece is provocative and it's lack of definite answers has made it Duchamp's most mysterious work.
The piece appears as in The Phillidelphia Museum of Art and on the surface only consists of big wooden Spanish-style door embedded into a rock wall. Upon closer inspection, there are two peep holes, one for each eye, in the door for the viewer to look into. Only one person can look into the installation at once, which creates a sense of privacy and complicity, as if the viewer is spying and consequently is seeing something they shouldn't. Beyond the door there is a brick wall that has been smashed in the centre and used as to frame the work beyond it. Behind the wall, a simulacrum of a woman's body is sprawled out leading off towards the left which cuts off her neck and face. She is completely naked and in her right hand she holds up a gas light, behind her in an idyllic looking nature scene featuring a waterfall as given in the title.
The feel of complicity is enhanced by the sprawl of the woman's body, her legs wide open and her genitalia on show, as if she's been thrown down from a height or discarded. It feels wrong and voyeuristic to look at her like this, open and vulnerable. One of the implications behind this is violet, as if the woman has been left after an attack, be it murder or rape. Many believe the position of the woman is a reference to the Black Dahlia, an unsolved murder where the victim was left naked after being cut in half and mutilated. Although her murder took place after Duchamp had already started the project so this reasoning is thought to be nought. Another link on a similar theme is the gas light, which can reference the film Gaslight that is about the unsolved murder of an English opera singer and coined the term 'to gaslight' which means to purposely drive someone insane. I think with this interpretation the piece is more of a commentary on violence against women and the complicity of those around them. Duchamp can be seen to communicate how people see violent attacks being inflicted on women and yet they don't help for whatever reason, misogyny, fear or general ignorance. These people are then complicit to the crime and their silence only aids and abets those who commit such acts, Duchamp mirrors this and makes the audience complicit by having the piece seen through two purposeful peep holes in the door. This inference is supported again by the title as it has no mention of the woman who is very much the subject of the piece. Instead it lists the waterfall and the lamp, two elements that are completely overshadowed by the body because of the shock of seeing it. This illustrates perfectly how people would rather focus on smaller, seemingly less important details and keeping their head down than someone in need of help.
The other interpretation I have, comes from the French name for the piece. To translate 'donnes' means 'give' in English, which was translated fine, but it's the 'Étant' that isn't translated so well. In French grammar the '-ant' ending of 'Étant' means the verb is ongoing and is currently still happening - much like'-ing' verbs in English. Then there is the plural '-s' on 'donnes' that indicates a whole thing, or a rather large or even multiple nouns are being given. This means the title in English should actually be 'those which are in the state of, being given' which changes the meaning quite a lot than the initial translation of 'given' but one that only really shows in the original French. When I think of things that are given - in context with naked sprawled women - I think of marriage and virginity. Marriage has a very patriarchal role in society and as such has very misogynistic implications of women being 'given' away by their fathers to serve their new husbands. In relation, virginity is another concept employed by the patriarchy to control women sexually and it is seen as being 'given' to the male that takes it. I believe the waterfall in the background links well to this too as it shows a physical fall to represent 'a woman's fall from innocence to experience' with the 'loss of her virginity'. The gas light itself burns but can be extinguished linking in again to the concept of loss. This would render the piece another social commentary on attitudes towards women and shows how women are essentially reduced to what they can do sexually for men. I think either of these interpretations stand as Duchamp made the piece over twenty years that feminism gained traction and changed a lot for women, from the right to vote and work to sexual freedom.
Despite this, the piece definitely utilises femininity behind the scenes of the piece. Whilst Duchamp worked he only consulted three people for the process, two lovers and his second wife and each one is referenced in the piece. The body was created from various casts of the sculptor Maria Martins, his lover for most of the 1940's. In letters found after Duchamp's death it was revealed that Martins was possibly Duchamp's greatest love (and lust as he once referred to her as 'my lady with the open pussy' which would reference the figure's open legs and exposed genitalia) and he consulted her on every detail of the piece. The next was Mary Reynolds who was a Parisian bookbinder that is alluded to in the parchment covering the figure for skin. And the last is Duchamp's second wife, Alexina Matisse who remained his 'rock' for the rest of his life and this is shown in the blonde hair visible in the piece, the arm holding the gas light is also based on her. With this in mind the piece becomes a kind of celebration of these three women, despite the inherent violent connotations - though this maybe suggests Duchamp's inner feelings towards them. And even combing all three women into one, is a little derogatory and presents the idea women are interchangeable or defined by a single characteristic. On the other hand, this could be a strength with either of the previous interpretations as it then applies to all women, rather than any one specific woman.
Another criticism of the piece is that it is heavily regarded in modern views where societal attitudes and political movements temper opinions and brand the piece with the unshakeable context of sex and violence. When Duchamp could have meant the piece to be seen in the 1940's as a Surrealist work and presents a kind of heavenly, relaxed and idyllic interpretation. I agree that the times have moved and I, myself, am doing a fairly feminist reading of the piece, because of the context I live in. Back in it's 1960's reception, a Canadian-born artist Marcel Dzama created an response that followed on as a kind of extension of Duchamp's piece. The set up is similar but the perspective is shifted to the left and shows the woman isn't alone but is accompanied by a man and appears to be lovingly clutching his hand as if in sleep. A taxidermist dog, or a fox perhaps, stands just above them. This piece is somehow even more voyeuristic and strongly suggests the scene is sexual but is peaceful instead of violent. Dzama, himself, said he saw it as a account of Duchamp's affair with Martins, that he had to watch her life from afar without being in it despite his constant desire to be closer. With the letters in mind it seems feasible.
Even The Ghost Of The Past by Marcel Dzama
Despite my interpretations, I think Duchamp's intentions, despite his handwritten 400 plus page manual on it, remain a mystery and for that I love this piece. It's so open to interpretation and so mysterious, intriguing and downright baffling.