| 
 Francis 
          M. Naumann 
          responds to  | ||||||||||
| [The following letter was written to the editor of Natural History in response to the article "Boats & Deckchairs" by Stephen Jay Gould and Rhonda Roland Shearer, which was published simultaneously in Tout-Fait 1, no. 1 (December 1999) and Natural History 108, no. 10 (December 1999 - January 2000): 32-44.] 
 To the Editor: In their 
          essay on a note by Marcel Duchamp about the fourth dimension (Natural 
          History, 12/99-1/00), Stephen Jay Gould and Rhonda Roland Shearer 
          emphasize the fact that no other previous Duchamp scholar has ever noticed 
          that the text of this particular note relates to the image of three 
          boats in a landscape that appears on its verso. Although they go on 
          to explain that there are various reasons for why this observation had 
          not been made before — without explanation — they specifically single 
          out my writings as an example of a Duchamp scholar who missed this very 
          point.  This 
          is a perfect example of biased and prejudicial scholarship. Since it 
          was employed by a Darwinian like Gould, it is difficult to resist comparing 
          his actions to that of natural selection, one that, in this case, functions 
          within the ongoing evolution of his and his wife's indomitable quest 
          to find hidden meanings in the work of Marcel Duchamp. If these writers 
          were really going to be fair in assessing my powers of observation, 
          after having cited my description of this note, they would have gone 
          on to quote the very next sentence of my writings: "Although it has 
          been assumed that these paper fragments were selected arbitrarily and 
          that they bear no relationship to the subject of the notes themselves, 
          at least one note referring to the 'legs of the [Chocolate] Grinder' 
          appears, appropriately, on the verso of a torn fragment of candy wrapping 
          advertising the town of 'Hershey, PA.'" (The Mary and William Sisler 
          Collection, Museum of Modern Art, New York, 1984, p. 143). In the 
          note discussed by Gould and Shearer, I did not notice a relationship 
          between the subject of the fourth dimension and the image appearing 
          on its verso for one very specific reason: I am not wholly convinced 
          that there is one (not when I wrote about these notes over fifteen years 
          ago, nor even now after having read their elaborate argument).  First 
          of all, these authors claim that "Duchamp's object is not, in fact, 
          a commercially produced postcard but an original painting, almost surely 
          by Duchamp himself." This is a perfectly reckless assertion, particularly 
          since it is made without a single shred of supporting evidence. Stylistically, 
          the image bears no relationship whatsoever to any other work by Duchamp 
          from this period, unless, of course, Duchamp feigned an artistic style 
          totally foreign to his own artistic sensitivities (even if this were 
          the case, then we are presented with no reasonable explanation for why 
          Duchamp would have employed such a strategy). The authors then point 
          out that on the verso of this image, "a vertical line in the middle 
          and four horizontal lines to the right" were "inked in by hand" to "mimic 
          the address guides of a normal postcard." These lines would prove critical, 
          for according to the authors, they provide a clue that the image on 
          the other side must be rotated in order to be understood for its fourth 
          dimensional message. But even here, how can we be sure that Duchamp 
          drew these lines? I — for one — doubt very much that he did.  I share 
          the belief that Duchamp's note was written on a "pseudo-postcard," that 
          is to say, a watercolor executed on a relatively thick piece of drawing 
          paper and cut to resemble the size and format of an ordinary, commercially-produced 
          postcard. But it is hardly necessary to prove that Duchamp himself physically 
          rendered this image; simulated, one-of-a-kind postcards of this type 
          can still be purchased on the streets of Montmartre to this very day, 
          affording tourists the option of sending their correspondents relatively 
          inexpensive original works of art. In order to make the function of 
          their product clear, it is usually the artist who draws the address 
          lines on the verso of the image as well as.  It is, 
          of course, entirely possible that Duchamp might have noticed a casual 
          resemblance between the three rather poorly-executed boats on the facing 
          side of this card and an overhead view of deckchairs, causing him to 
          muse on the subject of the fourth dimension (just as I had earlier noticed 
          that an advertisement for Hershey's Chocolate inspired Duchamp to write 
          about the leg of the Chocolate Grinder). But I do not — for a 
          moment — believe that he drew this image to serve as an illustration 
          of his ideas. The boats on this card bear a resemblance to one another 
          not because their proportionate sizes were meant to illustrate 
          a concept of the fourth dimension, but simply because after having drawn 
          literally hundreds of similar boats, for the sake of convenience and 
          expediency, the Montmartre artist repeated the same pattern that — by 
          then — had been engrained in his visual memory.  Lastly, I find it preposterous that in such a highly respected publication devoted to the sciences, the authors are allowed to refer to their relatively-minor observation as a "discovery." Indeed, the following claim is highlighted in the text: "Shearer discovered the key as we indulged in our favorite pastime: playing mental chess with Duchampian puzzles." If these authors see only puzzles in Duchamp, then I am afraid they shall remain forever blinded to his most important message. In my opinion, they would be better guided by following the advice contained in one of his most memorable statements: "There is no solution because there is no problem." 
 Francis 
          M. Naumann  
 
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