After having read the 1918 Manifesto and looked at this painting, by Dada artist Francis Picabia, I have begun to develop a quasi-understanding of Dadaism as a movement and lifestyle. This schematic-esque painting, which is similar to other works done by the artist, depicts a mechanical amalgamation that appears to function as one cohesive machine, despite being comprised of mostly unidentifiable objects. The room in which this “machine” of sorts is placed is just as confusing; the converging lines don’t quite line up, giving the space a wonky perspective that provides a visual challenge, almost like that of an optical illusion, though far more subtle. The machine, which reminds one of a Rube Goldberg contraption, defies functionality, as it’s purpose is not clearly visible. The title of the piece—Love Parade—lends no hands in the matter, either.
Dadaism, like this work by Picabia, defies identification. And like many Dadaist artworks, the name doesn’t help in codification—Dada. What is someone supposed to gather from a name like that? However, this is exactly what Dadaism intends to portray, which is very obviously stated in the Manifesto: “DADA DOES NOT MEAN ANYTHING.” Within the 1918 Manifesto, Tzara argues that this world is too vast to be comprehended and nominated. Therefore, my derived impression is that Dadaism is all about transcending petty classification and simply creating and expressing.