The Abstract Vision of Marius de Zayas

Willard Bohn

The Art Bulletin, Vol. 62, No. 3. (Sep., 1980), pp. 434-452.

Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0004-3079%28198009%2962%3A3%3C434%3ATAVOMD%3E2.0.CO%3B2-M

The Art Bulletin is currently published by College Art Association.

Your use of the JSTOR archive indicates your acceptance of JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use, available at
http://www.jstor.org/about/terms.html. JSTOR's Terms and Conditions of Use provides, in part, that unless you have obtained
prior permission, you may not download an entire issue of a journal or multiple copies of articles, and you may use content in
the JSTOR archive only for your personal, non-commercial use.

Please contact the publisher regarding any further use of this work. Publisher contact information may be obtained at
http://www.jstor.org/journals/caa.html.

Each copy of any part of a JSTOR transmission must contain the same copyright notice that appears on the screen or printed
page of such transmission.

The JSTOR Archive is a trusted digital repository providing for long-term preservation and access to leading academic
journals and scholarly literature from around the world. The Archive is supported by libraries, scholarly societies, publishers,
and foundations. It is an initiative of JSTOR, a not-for-profit organization with a mission to help the scholarly community take
advantage of advances in technology. For more information regarding JSTOR, please contact support@jstor.org.

http://www.jstor.org
Thu Jan 24 23:26:01 2008
The Abstract Vision of Marius de Zayas
Willard Bohn
"There were dadaists before the name Dada existed for
Dada, before the dadaists were Dada," Jean Arp once
declared with a paradoxical flourish. The critic and Sur-
realist writer JosC Pierre is more specific: "If the term was
invented in Zurich, the Dada spirit first became evident in
New York . . . Baptized in Switzerland in 1916, the infant
(conceived in Paris) was actually born in New York in
1915."' While Francis Picabia and Marcel Duchamp were
the catalysts in New York, frequenting the Stieglitz and
Arensberg circles, numerous Americans made important
contributions as early as 1912. One of these was Marius de
Zayas (1880-1961) who, as Alfred Stieglitz's closest
associate, was responsible for many of the achievements
usually credited to his chief.
De Zayas's background was as varied as his interests.
Born into a cultured and artistic family in Veracruz, Mex-
ico, he became an illustrator and caricaturist for El Diario
in Mexico City. When in 1907 the dictatorship of Porfirio
Diaz forced his family to flee to the United States, he
found a similar position on the New York Evening World.2
Depicting personalities of the day with great verve and
humor (Figs. 1 and 2), de Zayas seems to have become
something of a celebrity almost immediately.3 Shortly af-
ter his arrival in New York, he made the acquaintance of
Alfred Stieglitz, who greatly esteemed his caricatures. His
first one-man show at "291" was in January, 1909,
followed by two others in 1910 and 1913. In the ensuing
years de Zayas wrote a number of articles for Camera
Work and other magazines, acted as European agent for
Stieglitz, edited the review 291, and opened two galleries
of his own: the Modern Gallery (1915-18) and the de
Zayas Gallery (1919-1921). His book, A Study of the
Modern Evolution of Plastic Form (co-authored with Paul
B. Haviland in 1913), is one of the earliest American at-
1 Jose Pierre, Le Futurisme et la dadaisme, Lausanne, 1967, 69.
2 seewilliam I~~~~ H ~ ~ l ~f 5tieglitz
~ ~~ dand~ the, ,qmerican
Garde, Boston, 1977, 52.
3 See, e.g., "Marius de Zayas: A Master of Ironical Caricature" (Current
Literature, March, 1908, 281-83) which includes quotations from other
articles about him and some sample caricatures.
Catherine Turrill, "Marius de Zayas," Avant-Garde Painting and
tempts to understand modern art. His African Negro Art,
lts Influence on Modern Art (1916) ranks as one of the
first studies anywhere of primitive aesthetics. Catherine
Turrill expresses the critical consensus when she remarks
that "Marius de Zayas' chief importance for the avant-
garde art movement in America lay not in his work as a
caricaturist but in his activities as an art dealer and in his
association with several art-related publications."4 In fact,
as the present study is intended to show, his caricatures
were every bit as important as his other accomplishments.
The history of de Zayas's artistic contributions cannot
be separated from his close friendship with Picabia. Each
artist was greatly stimulated by the other's conversation
and example. Moreover, as William Agee observes, the ex-
change between them was "crucial to the embryonic stage
of New York Dada" (and thus to Dada in general).5 The
immediate occasion of their meeting was the Armory
Show of 1913, for which Picabia traveled to America. This
revolutionary exposition included four of his paintings,
and together with Duchamp - whose contributions were
equally scandalous - he soon became the star of the show.
During his lengthy stay in New York, Picabia developed
close ties to Stieglitz and de Zayas (who spoke fluent
French). The day after Picabia's departure, in April,
Stieglitz wrote to a friend:
Picabia left yesterday. All at "291" will miss him. He
and his wife were about the cleanest propositions I ever
met in my whole career. They were one hundred percent
purity .. . Picabia came to "291" virtually daily, and I
know he will miss the little place quite as much as we
miss him . . . I don't know whether you know that an at-
tempt is going to be made by him and Mabel Dodge to
Sculpture in America 1910-25, ed. William Innes Homer, Wilmington,
Delaware Art Museum, 1975, 62. A notable exception to this view is ex-
pressed in a recent article by Craig R. Bailey, which surveys de Zayas's
art in the context of European modernism: "The Art of Marius de
Zayas,,, Arts Magazine, September, 1978, 136-44,
William Agee, "New York Dada 1910-1930," The Avant-Garde, ed.
Thomas B. Hess and John Ashbery, London, 1968, 108. This book
corresponds to the 1968 issue of Art News Annual,

open a little place in Paris which is to resemble "291."
Even Picabia was astonished at de Zayas' ability . . .6
Writing in the American Art News two weeks later, an
anonymous reviewer confirmed Stieglitz's words and
noted: "Picabia says that [de Zayas] is greater than any of
the French producers of 'graphical and plastic synthesis of
the analysis of individuals,' and Picabia ought to know."'
This testimony is astonishing. Against all expectations, it
reveals the considerable impact of a provincial artist on a
cosmopolitan colleague. Picabia's obvious delight with his
American friends testifies to the high quality of their ac-
complishments. His insistent praise of de Zayas raises the
possibility of the latter's influence on his subsequent
paintings, although in theory reverse influence is also
possible. Indeed, stressing their mutual use of certain
geometrical shapes, William A. Camfield concludes that
de Zayas was indebted to Picabia.8 What is certain in any
case is that each was closely associated with the other, each
was working with abstract form, and each was seeking
visual equivalents for moods and ideas. Here we note the
first of many parallels between de Zayas and Picabia. As if
to stress their similarities, Stieglitz decided to pair them on
the "291" exhibition calendar: Picabia's show ran from
March 17 to April 5, de Zayas's from April 8 to May 20,
1913.
In Mexico and during his early years in New York, de
Zayas had worked in a realistic, representational style.
However much he might distort an individual's features,
the final portrait had to be recognizable to be effective.
Struggling against the inherent limitations of caricature,
de Zayas finally made a significant breakthrough in the
period immediately preceding the Armory Show.
Adopting invented forms punctuated by mathematical
symbols, he developed a totally abstract portraiture that
no longer exploited physical appearance. As Agee ob-
serves, this "new symbolic-associative language . . . was a
forerunner both of the Dadaists' formulae and numbers
and of Picabia's object-portraits of 1915-1917."9 Until
recently nothing was known about the origins of this
abstract caricature, nor was it possible to decipher the her
metic drawings themselves. Although the scarcity of
documentation continues to hamper investigations, d
recently published memoir finally provides the key.
Letter from Alfred Stieglitz to Arthur B. Carles dated April 11, 1913,
Alfred Stieglitz Archive, Collection of American Literature, Beinecke
Rare Book and Manuscript Library, Yale University. I would like to
thank Miss Georgia O'Keeffe, Mr. Rodrigo de Zayas, and Yale Univer-
sity for permission to examine and publish material from this collection.
The projected gallery - called "L'Ourse" - opened in Paris toward the
end of the year but closed before long for unknown reasons. See William
A. Camfield, Francis Picabia, New York, Solomon R. Guggenheim
Museum, 1970, 22, n. 25.
Anon., "Drawings by Marius de Zayas," American Art News, XI, 28,
April 26, 1913, 2. The interior quotation is from de Zayas's preface to his
1913 exhibition at "291."
T H E A B S T R A C T V I S I O N OF M A R I U S D E Z A Y A S 435
1 De Zayas, Al Jolson, ill. in 2 De Zayas, Ruth St. Denis,
Caroline Caffin, Vaudeville, ill. in Vaudeville
1914
Recalling the genesis of his portrait of Stieglitz (Fig. 3)
some years later, de Zayas wrote:
. . . studying the ethnographical collection at the British
Museum, I was impressed by an object invented by an
artist from Pukapuka or Danger Island in the Pacific
[Fig. 41. It consisted of a wooden stick to which a few
circles made of some vegetal material were fixed by
pairs right and left of the stick. It impressed me par-
ticularly because it reminded me of the physical ap-
pearance of Stieglitz [Fig. 51. I say "physical" because
the resemblance was also spiritual. The object, said the
catalogue, was built as a trap for catching souls. The
portrait was complete, and it caught my soul, because
from it I derived a theory of abstract caricature . . .
which I exposed together with a few caricatures called
"abstract," together with a few others which were of the
"concrete" style. . .. I had previously made a caricature
of Stieglitz with the caption "L'Accoucheur dlidCes."
These two caricatures expressed my understanding of
Stieglitz' mission: to catch souls and to be the midwife
who brings out new ideas to the world.10
William A. Camfield, Francis Picabia: His Art, Life and Times, Prince-
ton, 1979, 53.
Agee, 108.
loDorothy Norman, Alfred Stieglitz: A n American Seer, New York,
1973, 122-23. I would like to thank Dorothy Norman for providing me
with a copy of the original text - part of a lengthy manuscript dating
from the late forties. The entire document was recently published as
"How, When And Why Modern Art Came To New York," ed. Francis
M. Naumann, Arts Magazine, April, 1980, 96-126. Unfortunately, de
Zayas gives 1914 as the date of his soul-catcher experience, which is
clearly impossible. L'Accoucheur d'idbes appeared in Camera Work,
XXXIX, July, 1912, 55.
436 THE ART BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1980 VOLUME LXll NUMBER 3
3 De Zayas, Alfred Stieglitz, from Camera Work, April, 1914.
New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art
Among other things, this fascinating account of the birth
of abstract caricature gives us insight into de Zayas's
method and inspiration. Its implications are as exciting as
they are far-reaching. It also explains what the artist
meant when, in the preface to the exhibition of 1913, he
stated: ". .. my new procedure in caricature is inspired by
the psychological reason of the existence of the art of the
primitive races, which tried to represent what they
thought to be supernatural elements, existing outside of
the individual, elements however which science has
proved to be natural and which exist within the
individual."ll
Before we proceed to examine the caricatures, however,
it is important to establish a chronology for de Zayas's in-
vention. If his description stresses the role of immediate
inspiration, we will see that the actual outcome stemmed
from his familiarity with modern art. If his immediate
source was anthropological, the principle itself was un-
mistakably artistic. Unfortunately, the reference to
L'Accoucheur d'idhes (repro. in Camera Work, July, 1912)
is not as helpful as it seems, for although the caricature es-
tablishes a sequence, we do not know its date of composi-
tion. If anything, its murky symbolism and chiaroscuro
effects link it to the caricatures of 1910. Fortunately, we
1l"Caricature: Absolute and Relative," repr. in Camera Work, XLVI,
April, 1914, 20.
5 Alfred Stieglitz, Self-Portrait, silver
print, 1910. New York, Metropolitan
Museum of Art
Aid
4 Soul-Catcher, Pukapuka (Danger Island). London, British
Museum
can reconstruct the gestation of the abstract drawings
from correspondence preserved in the Alfred Stieglitz
Archive at Yale University. This period corresponds to the
twelve months that de Zayas spent in Paris between 1910
and 1911. Arriving on October 13, 1910, he immediately
plunged into Parisian cultural life, attending the Salon
d'Automne repeatedly and mixing with the avant-garde
crowd at the Cafi. du D6me. At this time de Zayas does not
appear to have known much about modern art. In a letter
to Stieglitz dated October 29, 1910, he demonstrates a
familiarity with Matisse but is baffled by the Cubists,
reporting with some astonishment that Metzinger "sees
everything geometrically." According to his sources, he
adds, Metzinger is only an imitator: "the real article is a
Spaniard whose name I don't recall." In a review of the
Salon written at this time, de Zayas freely admits his
helplessness to understand the Parisian movements and
wonders whether Cubism will ever amount to anything12
By January 25, 1911, however, the situation had
changed radically. In the interim de Zayas had met "the
real article" (through Frank Burty Haviland, whose
brother was one of the directors of "29l"), had arranged
to show eighty-three of his works at "291," and had ob-
tained an interview to be included in the catalogue. Run-
12 "The New Art in Paris," The Forum, XLV,2, February, 1911, 180-88,
repr. in Camera Work, xxx~v-v,April-July, 1911, 29-34.

ning from March 28 to April 25, 1911, the exhibition
presented Picasso to the American public for the first time
and was eventually extended. The interview was incor-
porated into a preface by de Zayas which was reprinted in
Camera Work.13 As this rapid series of events implies, de
Zayas was very impressed by Picasso, and the two men
quickly became close friends. Under Picasso's tutelage, he
gained an excellent knowledge of Cubism and became an
ardent convert. De Zayas's interest in African sculpture
probably dates from this encounter (in April he suggested
an African show to Stieglitz), but it was the exposure to
Cubism that had a lasting influence on his own art.
Among other things, many of the subsequent caricatures
employ geometric forms. More important, however,
Cubism introduced him to a new concept of art and paved
the way for his experiments with abstraction. If de Zayas
devotes part of his preface to specific problems, such as
the abolition of perspective and the absence of color, the
bulk of the essay is concerned with Cubist theory in
general. At the heart of the essay lies the concept of what
he calls "the psychology of form," that is, the translation
of intellectual and emotional responses into formal pat-
terns on the canvas. "Instead of the physical manifesta-
tion" of an object or scene, Picasso seeks "the psychic
one" in order to represent its "essence." Thus the artist is
no longer content to depict mere physical appearance. Ac-
cording to de Zayas, "[Picasso] receives a direct impres-
sion from external nature, he analyzes, develops, and trans-
lates it . . . with the intention that the picture should be the
pictorial equivalent of the emotion produced by nature. In
representing his work he wants the spectator to look for
the emotion or idea generated from the spectacle and not
the spectacle itself" (emphasis added). As we will see, the
concept of essence versus appearance underlies the inven-
tion of abstract caricature. Equally important is Picasso's
theory of pictorial equivalence - from which de Zayas
derived his own abstract method. Notwithstanding their
obvious stylistic differences, the two men shared a com-
mon psychology of form. Nowhere is de Zayas's debt to
the Spanish artist more evident than in the preface to his
1913 exhibition where he defines abstract caricature as:
"the representation of feelings and ideas through material
equivalents."l4
Written earlier, de Zayas's article on Picasso was not ac-
tually forwarded to Stieglitz until March 7, 1911. In the
accompanying letter, de Zayas remarks: "I have started on
a new idea and made some caricatures and drawings for
the philosophical collection." In light of the preface on
Picasso, the announcement of a new style is intriguing.
From what we have just seen, it undoubtedly reflected the
influence of Cubism, but to what extent and toward what
end is impossible to say. To be sure, the term
13"Pablo Picasso," in ibid., 65-67. An illustrated, slightly expanded ver-
sion appeared in Spanish in a magazine edited by de Zayas's father:
"Pablo Picasso," America; revista mensual illustrada (New York), VI,
May, 1911, 363-65.
THE ABSTRACT VISION OF MARIUS DE ZAYAS 437
"philosophical" implies a superior, more abstruse form of
art. This probably does not mark the birth of abstract
caricature, however, for there is no evidence of the crucial
trip to England described by de Zayas in his recently
published memoir. Still, he appears to have developed
considerably since meeting Picasso, and he was undoubt-
edly headed toward abstraction. Following a visit by
Stieglitz in September, lasting some three weeks, de Zayas
prepared to return to the United States. The correspon-
dence breaks off after August 26, with one important ex-
ception - a telegram. Containing an urgent request for
$150,which de Zayas says he will repay when he arrives in
New York, it bears the dateline "London, October 18,
1911." Not only does this allow us to fix the date of his
return, in early November, it provides the only evidence
we have of a trip to London. It was doubtless at this time,
pursuing the interest in primitive art he had developed in
Paris, that de Zayas encountered the catalytic "soul-
catcher" in the British Museum. This impression is
strengthened by two separate bits of information. For one
thing, Stieglitz wrote to Sadakichi Hartmann on Decem-
ber 22, 1911: "De Zayas has developed most remarkably
and is a big fellow."l5 Coming from the leader of "291,"
this is high praise and suggests a recent breakthrough. For
another, external evidence alone seems to limit the British
Museum episode to October, 1911. After this date, de
Zayas did not venture abroad again until 1914.Before this
date, as far as can be determined, his caricatures are all
realistic. Admittedly, we have only a portion of his works,
but the surviving photographs and descriptions reveal a
general pattern.
According to the catalogue of de Zayas's 1913 show, en-
titled "Caricature: Abstract and Relative," the following
works were on exhibition:
1. Alfred Stieglitz
2. Gaby Deslys
3. Arthur Hoeber
4. Agnes Ernst Meyer
5. Picabia
6. T w o Friends
7. Paul Haviland
8. A N e w York Society Leader
9. Theodore Roosevelt
10. Regina Badet
11. Regina Badet
12. Rodin and Steichen
13. Marin and Stieglitz
14. Picasso and Frank Haviland
15. Blanche Albane in "L'Homme mystirieux"
16. Polaire in Montmartre
17. Charles Darnton
18. Mounet Sully in "Hernani."
14"Caricature: Absolute and Relative," 20. The preface had been reprint-
ed earlier as "Exhibition Marius de Zayas" in Camera W o r k , XLII-III.
April-July, 1913, 20-22.
15 Cited by Norman, 109-10.
438 THE ART BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1980 VOLUME LXII NUMBER 3
Nine of the drawings were published in Camera W o r k a
year and a half later, together with the original preface to
the exhibition.16 They included realistic caricatures of
Rodin and Edward Steichen, John Marin and Stieglitz,
and Charles Darnton (drama critic for the Evening
World). The abstract portraits depict Stieglitz, Meyer,
Two Friends, Roosevelt, Paul Haviland, and Picabia. An
additional realistic caricature of Dr. A. A. Berg, whom de
Zayas met in 1912 when he was hospitalized for an un-
known illness (date of release: September 14), may or may
not have been included in the exhibition.17 From a review
by William B. McCormick, writing in the New York Press,
we know that the portraits of Regina Badet and of Picasso
and Frank Haviland were realistic, while those of Arthur
Hoeber (art critic for the New York Globe), A New York
Society Leader, and Gaby Deslys were abstract.18 Among
other things, this means that the exhibition was evenly
divided between de Zayas's new (Nos. 1-9) and old (Nos.
10-18) styles. Wishing to give a faithful impression of his
activities since his last show, in 1910, de Zayas included
seven works from his Paris period. Besides the
Rodin/Steichen and the Picasso/Haviland portraits, which
could only have been done in France, there are five
caricatures of Parisian actors and entertainers. In 1911, for
example, Regina Badet was featured in La Femme et le
pantin, directed by Firmin GCmier, which de Zayas would
have seen at the ThCdtre Antoine. Similarly, Blanche
Albane starred in L'Homme mystirieux at the ThCdtre
Sarah-Bernhardt during the 1910-11 season. Polaire, of
course, was a famous cabaret singer in Montmartre, and
Jean Mounet-Sully was the chief attraction at the ComCdie
Franqaise. Celebrated for his passionate portrayal of Vic-
tor Hugo's Hernani, in the play by the same name,
Mounet-Sully played this role for the last time in 1911,
when he gave ten performances.19
From this brief survey, it appears that the Paris
caricatures were all realistic. Matching titles with
photographs and descriptions, we note that de Zayas con-
tinued to work in this mode when he returned to America,
even as he was experimenting with abstract caricature.
Thus the realistic drawings of Charles Darnton and of
Marin and Stieglitz were both done after his return, as a
detailed chronology would show. To th'ese must be added
countless works that appeared in commercial publications
16 Camera Work, XLVI, April, 1914, pls. 1-111 and v - x . The present loca-
tions are unknown of all the de Zayas and Picabia drawings illustrated
here except those of Stieglitz (Metropolitan Museum).
l7Letter from Marius de Zayas to Alfred Stieglitz, September 14, 1912.
Alfred Stieglitz Archive, Yale University.
18Repr. in Camera Work, XLII-111, April-July, 1913, 51-52. This article,
which includes descriptions of the Badet, Hoeber, Deslys, and Society
Leader portraits, is followed by other reviews of the exhibition.
l9 Between 1877 and 1911 Mounet-Sully played Hernani 373 times -
more than any other role (A. Joannidhs, Relbve des representations de
Mounet-Sully k la Comedie Franqaise, Paris, 1917). For Regina Badet and
Blanche Albane, see Gilles Qukant, EncyclopCdie d u theatre
contemporain, Paris, 1957.
between 1912 and 1915. In 1912, at the request of the
prominent New York producer George C. Tyler, de Zayas
created a successful pantomime which he described as
"theater of caricature."20 In 1914 he collaborated on a
book about vaudeville, contributing some thirty sketches
of famous performers (Figs. 1, 2).21 From this, we may
conclude that there was no sudden shift between de
Zayas's old and new styles, as critics have assumed, for the
two continued to exist side by side. Nor is there any
evidence that the second style was born in 1913, another
frequent assumption. The most that can be said is that it
was first made public in 1913. Of the nine abstract por-
traits in the "291" exhibition, only two can be dated with
any degree of certainty: Francis Picabia and Gaby Deslys.
The first dates from Picabia's visit to New York (January
20-April 10, 1913), and the second seems to have been ex-
ecuted about the same time. In theory, the abstract portrait
of Gaby Deslys, a French vaudeville artist, could have
been done in Paris, but she was also a well-known figure
on the American stage. According to the New York Times
Index, for example, she starred in the Review of Re-
views at the Winter Garden from September 17, 1911,
to January 29, 1912, returning for another engagement on
November 11, 1912.22 Furthermore, we know that de
Zayas attended at least one performance during her second
tour, for a (realistic) caricature of her as Yvonne in The
Honeymoon Express appeared in the New York Evening
World on February 7 , 1913. Two months later he
published five more caricatures of her in the same paper
(April 12, 1913). If these two portraits were executed with
the upcoming exhibition in mind, the dates of the others
are open to conjecture. Theodore Roosevelt, for example,
may have been done in response to the ex-President's con-
descending review of the Armory Show in March, 1913.23
But since de Zayas had been lampooning him for years in
the Evening World, an earlier date is equally possible. In
any event, while European influence is easily discernible
in the abstract portraits, the drawings themselves were
done in the United States. Depicting New Yorkers or
visitors to New York, they form a distinct group whose
American setting contrasts with the French locale of the
earlier works. Stylistically and thematically, each group
balances the other.
Following his exhibition at "291," de Zayas returned to
De Zayas published a caricature of Tyler in the New York Evening
World on October 12, 1912.
21 Caroline Caffin, Vaudeville, New York, 1914. The portraits of Mrs.
Brown Potter and Ruth St. Denis first appeared in Camera Work in
January, 1910.
22This engagement ran at least until February 6, 1913, when she played
Yvonne in The Honeymoon Express ( W h o Was W h o in the Theatre:
1912-1976, Detroit, 1978). A dancer, singer, and actress, Gaby Deslys
specialized in musical satires.
23Theodore Roosevelt, "A Layman's Views of an Art Exhibition," The
Outlook, March 29, 1913, 718-20, repr. in 1913 Armory Show 50th An-
niversary Exhibition, exh, cat., Munson-Williams-Proctor Institute and
Henry Street Settlement, Utica, 1963, 160-62.
 THE ABSTRACT VISION OF MARIUS DE ZAYAS 439

France in 1914 where he spent the summer on assignment

for Stieglitz. Arriving on May 13, he did not return to the
United States until September 12.24 In Paris de Zayas
quickly renewed his friendship with Picabia, who in-
troduced him to Guillaume Apollinaire and the group cen-
tered around Les Soirtes de Paris. Before long he and
Apollinaire had become good friends and were even
collaborating on a Dadaist play, together with Picabia and
Alberto Savinio.25 Interestingly, Apollinaire's reaction to
the abstract caricatures was the same as Picabia's the year
before. Writing in Paris-Journal on July 8, he noted with
enthusiasm:

. . . Until now, today's art, which is so expressive, had

produced only one real caricaturist: Jossot, an unjustly
forgotten artist.
Now, however, we have another caricaturist. His
name is Marius de Zayas, and his caricatures, employ-
ing some very new techniques, are in accord with the art
of the most audacious contemporary painters.
I recently had a chance to see some of these new
caricatures. They are incredibly powerful, especially
those of Ambroise Vollard, Bergson, and Henri Matisse.
The next Salon of Humorists should set aside a room
for the works of Marius de Zayas. They are well worth
the trouble.26

One week later Apollinaire published four caricatures in
the July-August issue of Les Soirhes de Paris. Besides the
portraits of Stieglitz and Picabia exhibited at "291," de
Zayas contributed drawings of Vollard and Apollinaire.27
Although he was to experiment with visual poetry the
following year, de Zayas seems to have published only
two more caricatures before abandoning this form. Ap-
pearing in the December, 1915, issue of 291, the last exam-
ple was devoted to Picasso - who resembles Ferdinand the
Bull (Fig. 6). In this drawing, black represents mass and
white represents space. At the center, seen in profile fat-
ing right, a triangular, horned figure gazes into the dis-
tance with beady eyes. The upper half of the drawing is
dominated by a heavy structure resembling a canopy,
which is balanced by the horned figure and by a rec-
tangular form at the lower right. Judging from the con-
junction of the various forms, the figure (Picasso) seems to
be seated before a desk or a table. To the left, behind this
squat but powerful character, a rose pushes forth into the
surrounding space - itself shaped like an arrowhead to in-
dicate motion and direction. This strong diagonal, con-
tinued by other structures, adds a dynamic note to the
otherwise static drawing. De Zayas has clearly created a
6 De Zayas, Pablo Picasso, from 291, December, 1915-January,
1916
dialogue between beauty and power here, a dialogue
which he sees as central to Picasso's art. At one level, the
horned figure and the rose refer to Picasso's Spanish
origins, symbolized by the bullfight. At another level, they
juxtapose the delicate sensibility of his Rose Period with
the brutality of his Cubist phase.
To understand de Zayas's drawings fully, however, we
must go back to 1913 and the preface to his exhibition
catalogue (see footnotes 11and 14), in which he discusses
his theory of abstract caricature. In spite of a certain
awkwardness of expression (de Zayas was more at ease in
Spanish or French than in English), the main points of his
aesthetic are clear. Instead of depicting the physical
appearance of an individual - a superficial process at best
- de Zayas proposes to provide an "analysis." Art is no
longer to be rendered as extrinsic impression but as "in-
trinsic expression." In this context, he outlines his method
as follows:

Letters from Marius de Zayas to Alfred Stieglitz, May 22, 1914, and
from Marie Rapp to Alfred Stieglitz, September 14,1914. Alfred Stieglitz
Archive, Yale University.
For a study of the relations between de Zayas and Apollinaire, see
25
Willard Bohn, "Guillaume Apollinaire and the New York Avant-Garde,"
Comparative Literature Studies, XIII, 1, March, 1976, 40-51.
'6 "Marius de Zayas," repr. in Apollinaire on Art: Essays and Reviews
1902-1918, ed. LeRoy C. Breunig, New York, 1972, 419.
2'Writing to the poetess Jeanne-YvesBlanc from the front on October
18, 1915, Apollinaire offered the following commentary: "As for the
drawing by de Zayas intitled Guillaume Apollinaire, the review's cover
explains that it is a caricature. The word 'table' does not resemble a table
in any fashion, and yet it manages to suggest the idea of a table. Are you
beginning to grasp the essence of this caricature ...?" (Apollinaire,
Oeuvres complites, ed. Michel DCcaudin, Paris, 1966-67, IV, 675).
440 T H E A R T BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1980 V O L U M E LXll N U M B E R 3
(1) the spirit of the individual is to be represented by
algebraic formulas,
( 2 ) his material self by "geometrical equivalents," and
(3) his initial force by "trajectories within the rectangle
that encloses the plastic expression and represents
life."
According to de Zayas, the spirit is composed of (a)
"Memory (acquired knowledge), (b) Understanding
(capability of learning, intelligence), and (c) Volition (the
regulator of physical desires, vices, and virtues)." By
"material self" he means the human body. Finally, he
defines "initial force," which recalls Bergson's concept of
Clan vital, as that which "binds spirit and matter
together." In the caricatures it is represented by a line or
"trajectory" symbolizing the individual's passage through
life, the quality of which is the product of his spiritual and
material capabilities. Though de Zayas does not say so,
this device is taken from analytical geometry. If X = spirit
and Y = material self, then the equation X+Y = a
numerical quantity may be represented on a graph as a
curve described by the variables X and Y. This is why he
calls his art a "graphical and plastic synthesis." From this
it would seem that a rising curve indicates prosperity and
success, a falling curve the opposite. A typical life might
thus be diagrammed as a bell-shaped curve starting from
zero. Although one's spiritual capabilities steadily increase
from birth, one's physical capabilities decline after a cer-
tain age. The point at which the descending curve inter-
sects the X axis would correspond to the individual's death
(Y = 0).
De Zayas distinguishes five classes of trajectories based
on the Positivistic sequence: knowledgeprogress+con-
clusion. Although these categories are meant to relate a
person's life to the general "evolution of humanity," they
are not judgmental so much as descriptive. De Zayas
provides the following summary:
(1) No beginning or end - individuals who have tacit
knowledge, who contribute to progress in general, but
who do not arrive at a conclusion.
(2) An end but no beginning - same as above but with
a definite conclusion.
(3) A beginning but no end - acquisition of knowledge
and contribution to progress without a conclusion.
(4) A beginning and a n end - acquisition of
knowledge, contribution to progress, and a conclusion.
(5) Inert or static individuals who do not move with the
general progress. These have n o trajectories
whatsoever.
Paul B. Haviland, "Marius de Zayas - Material, Relative, and Ab-
solute Caricatures," Camera Work, XLVI, April, 1914, 33.
L9 Quoted by Haviland, 34.
From this outline it is easy to see why Stieglitz, Picabia,
and Apollinaire were so impressed with the abstract
caricatures. Aside from de Zayas's technical mastery, his
system is both sensitive and complex. In spite of its ob-
vious scientific bias, it offers considerable leeway for ar-
tistic interpretation and expression. In trying to express
his "feelings and ideas through material equivalents," de
Zayas was aiming primarily at a "psychological represen-
tation" of his subject. Paul B. Haviland, who preferred the
spelling characature, defined this goal as the "representa-
tion of character through form."z8 In actuality, de Zayas's
ambition extended even further. Elsewhere in his article-
preface he defines caricature as "the representation of the
individual self and his relation to the whole" - a rather
large order. In this light, the best assessment of his draw-
ings was offered by Picabia who described them as "the
psychological expression of man's plurality."z9
Despite the startling originality of this system, de Zayas
is heavily indebted to two schools of thought: Positivism
and Cubism. His interest in the latter dates from 1910/11,
as we have seen, whereas the former seems to have cap-
tivated him at an early age. From 1911 (the date of his first
article) to 1913 and beyond, these constitute the twin
themes of his writings, which seek to apply the scientific
method to modern aesthetics. Totally committed to the
Positivist philosophy, de Zayas remarks in one place: "I
believe in progress as a constant and ineludible law."
Elsewhere he describes himself as a "cause-and-effect
speculator . . . for whom.. . all things . . . must be computed
and accounted for."30 An ardent admirer of Claude Ber-
nard's Introduction h I'Ctude de la midecine expCrimentale
(1865), a cornerstone of scientific methodology, de Zayas
adopts a similar approach in his 1913 preface. Envisaging
a new mathematical humanism in the second paragraph,
he claims to be able to "represent psychological and
metaphysical entities by algebraic signs and solve their
problems through mathematics."
As noted, de Zayas's search for pictorial equivalents of
ideas and emotions derives directly from Picasso. While
there are numerous differences in their two styles, not to
mention the treatment of objects, they share similar
theories of abstraction. Great as his admiration was for
Picasso, however, de Zayas was troubled by one aspect of
his work, which he interpreted as a shortcoming.
Moreover, since Picasso personified modern art in general
for him, until 1913, this defect had broad repercussions.
As late as January, 1913, de Zayas noted: "Picasso is
perhaps the only artist who in our time works in search of
a new form. But Picasso is only an analyst; up to the pres-
ent his productions reveal solely the plastic analysis of ar-
J0"Photography," Camera Work, XLI, January, 1913, 20, and "291,"
ibid.,XLVII, July, 1914, 73, respectively. For a survey of de Zayas's
writings through 1914, see Dickran Tashjian, Skyscraper Primitives,
Dada and the American Avant-Garde 1910-1925, Middletown, Conn.,
1975. 23-28.
tistic forms without arriving at a definite synthesis."31 In
inventing abstract caricature, then, de Zayas sought to
correct what he considered a pernicious tendency in
modern art - analytic fragmentation. This is why he
speaks of "a graphical and plastic synthesis" in the
preface. More than anything, the drawings are charac-
terized by a synthetic approach to their subjects. If the ar-
tist divides his subject into three separate components, his
ultimate goal is to provide a comprehensive picture of the
total person. Viewing his subject from every possible
perspective - subjective, objective, and societal - he in ef-
fect achieves synthesis through multiple analysis.
Although de Zayas appears to have been unaware of re-
cent developments in Paris, this process parallels the
achievements of Synthetic Cubism since his last visit. In
both, for various parts are subordinated to the whole to
produce an essential unity of vision.
Turning to the caricatures themselves (Figs. 3-15), we
note a certain amount of technical variation over the years.
According to Camera W o r k , the drawings in the show of
1913 were done in charcoal, but the rest are in pen and ink
- except Picasso where the artist reverted to charcoal.
Curiously, when de Zayas reprinted his caricatures of
Stieglitz and Picabia in Les SoirLes de Paris, he made new
pen and ink copies. These are remarkably faithful to the
originals but contain several (minor) variations. In a
second portrait of Stieglitz (Fig. IS), published in 1915, the
main lines are accented with red watercolor, lending an
unexpected dynamism to the composition. Although the
dimensions of the later drawings are unknown, they ap-
pear to approximate the 25 X 20" format of the works ex-
hibited i n 1913.32 I n composition round forms
predominate, but angular shapes are numerous and
strong. The compositions are often arranged sym-
metrically around a vertical axis, and several include
prominent diagonals. Black (mass) and white (space) occur
in equal amounts, reflecting de Zayas's dichotomy be-
tween the spirit and the material self. In general, the
caricatures' two-dimensionality emphasizes their
schematic function, and the lack of perspective, like the
absence of color and the geometric forms, is clearly
Cubist-inspired. The only evidence of volume is in Francis
Picabia (Fig. 7 ) where it is not immediately recognizable.
Here, just below the lowest "eye," the vertical edge inter-
sects three parallel contours, suggesting a cylindrical ob-
ject seen in cross-section.
De Zayas's algebraic depiction of the spirit is both in-
triguing and frustrating. Although alegbra permits a com-
pletely abstract symbolism, there is no evidence that he
knew enough about mathematics to take advantage of it.
Nevertheless, given his systematic, highly theoretical
3' "Photography," 17
mind, we can scarcely doubt the existence of a complex
system here. Unfortunately, in the absence of any ex-
planation by the artist, it remains resolutely personal and
hermetic. The absence of algebraic devices in three of the
later drawings seems to indicate that the system was even-
tually discontinued. For the present it suffices to note that
only one of the drawings (Theodore Roosevelt, Fig. 8 )
contains a true equation. In all the others the equals sign
must be inferred, e.g., Figure 3.
Stieglitz =
With two exceptions (Haviland and Picabia), every equa-
tion contains at least four variables. Three drawings have
six or more. This means that the formulae cannot describe
any of the graphic curves, since the X/Y grid can only ac-
commodate two variables. It also leaves us wondering how
to reconcile the equations with de Zayas's description of
the human spirit. If we assign a letter to each spiritual
category (Memory, Understanding, and Volition), there
are not enough. If we include the six subcategories, there
are too many. The spiritual significance of the square root
sign is also puzzling: probably it serves to separate one
group of letters from the other. This does not alter the
probability that the artist assigned a different personal
value to each letter. Those preceding the square root sign
(never more than three) may represent general categories,
whereas the sign itself may denote a more detailed
analysis. O r again the capital letters may designate major
categories and the lower-case letters lesser ones. In any
event, a minus sign rob ably indicates a lack of that par-
ticular quality, just as a " & " signifies the instability of a
given trait. It is also reasonable to assume that the dif-
ferent powers correspond to different degrees of intensity,
extending from average to above average to exceptional.
Thus, despite the impression of mathematical chaos, there
is a certain correlation between the complexity of an in-
dividual and his algebraic expression. With eight
variables, four of which are cubed, the equation for
Stieglitz (Fig. 3) is the most complex, followed by those for
Agnes Ernst Meyer and Haviland (both collaborators at
"291"). This corresponds to what we know of Steiglitz at
least, who was quite a complicated person. At the other
end of the scale are Picabia and Teddy Roosevelt (Figs. 7
and 8), a rather unlikely pair. In Picabia's case, the bare
notation "a+b+c / a+b / B" does not denote a mediocre
spirit, but rather an inherent simplicity of spirit. One of
Picabia's most invigorating qualities was the childlike sim-
plicity of his art and life. Both domains were governed by
the principle of instant gratification (whim, fantasy, etc.),
32 Camera Work, XLVI, April, 1914, 51. Four earlier caricatures measure
28" X 22" ("Our Plates," ibid., x x ~ x ,January, 1910, 61).
442 T H E A R T BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1 9 8 0 VOLUME LXll NUMBER 3
7 De Zayas, Francis Picabia, from Camera Work, April, 1914
which permitted him a refreshing directness of inspiration
and execution.33 Hence the caricature's simple arithmetic
progression corresponds to Picabia's basic thought-
processes. The capital B may emphasize his remarkable in-
telligence (Understanding) - also one of his more salient
characteristics.
In Roosevelt's case, the lack of complexity is clearly
derogatory. Described by a contemporary critic as "a sort
of electric wired beartrap" with "shark teeth," this draw-
ing is summarized by the equation " ? = 0." As the same
critic notes, what de Zayas meant to write was " = 0"
( = a, not 0).34 In either case, his meaning is un-
mistakable: juxtaposed with the immensity of the uni-
verse, the self-important Roosevelt is totally insignificant.
From a spiritual perspective, he is a nonentity, a big fat
zero. As noted, the immediate source of de Zayas's outrage
was possibly Roosevelt's article on the Armory Show,
which combined philistinism with smugness. It is in-
teresting that this is the only caricature lacking a trajectory
line. Roosevelt is clearly an "inert" or "static" individual
" Cf. Gabrielle Buffet-Picabia: "He used to speak of his projects as if
they were already finished, and if there was any trouble he was the first
to abandon them for some other idea" (letter to the author dated June 1,
1977).
8 De Zayas, Theodore Roosevelt, from Camera Work, April,
1914
who has not contributed to real human progress. This im-
pression is reinforced by his physical appearance, for he is
mainly a mouth. A bulbous nose surmounts a wide-open
mouth seen through a screen of zigzag lines. Anchored to
the equation and extending in two directions, these lines
represent his prominent moustache. The pattern at the top
of the drawing repeats the vertical zigzag motif, resem-
bling "a backgammon board or a row of dunce's caps" ac-
cording to one critic.35 Although the last suggestion has
interesting possibilities, the white triangles probably
represent Roosevelt's teeth. Displaced, flattened, and jux-
taposed according to Cubist practice, they are partially
screened by the black triangles of his moustache which
parts to reveal a flashing smile (a Roosevelt trademark).
All in all, the portrait is quite humorous.
With the exception of Theodore Roosevelt, de Zayas's
published abstract caricatures depict people he knew and
admired. And since they were all successful avant-garde
artists or critics, their portraits resemble each other in
some respects. This is noticeable in the trajectories chosen
'3 Samuel Swift, writing in the New York Sun; repr. in Camera Work,
XLII-111,April-July, 1913, 53-54.
35William B. McCormick, in Camera Work, 51-52. Bailey interprets the
zigzag motif as a crown (p. 139).

9 De Zayas, Two Friends, from Camera Work, April, 1914
to represent their passages through life. Although these
are occasionally difficult to identify (e.g., Paul B.
Haviland, Fig. 12), their meanings are mostly self-evident.
They should not be confused with the vertical axis in
many of the drawings which serves another function. Es-
pecially prominent in the Stieglitz, Meyer, and Haviland
portraits, this device contributes to their general symmetry
and introduces a note of stability. If these persons are
more complex than their companions, as we have seen,
they are also much more organized. In most instances, the
trajectory itself sweeps through the portrait in a graceful
curve, intersecting the frame (symbolizing life) initially
and terminally. since even the exceptions observe the rule
of double intersection, these are all drawings of the fourth
class of trajectory (having a beginning, middle, and end).
Their subjects are all clearly achievers who have used their
knowledge and skills to contribute to progress. Stieglitz
(Fig. 3) seems to have done this in two stages, for his tra-
jectory contains the subtypes 3 and 2. De Zayas may be
thinking here of his contribution via photography and
"291". A similar pattern exists for the anonymous Two
Friends (Fig. 9) who have achieved more together than
either has separately. Finally, with one exception, the tra-
jectories all follow rising curves, indicating prosperity and
success. Either they arch toward the upper right corner
like a bell curve, or they reverse this process, rising from
right to left. Although we know that each trajectory has its
THE ABSTRACT VISION OF MARIUS DE ZAYAS 443
10 De Zayas, Ambroise Vollard, from Les SoirLes de Paris, July-
August, 1914
own directional symbolism, the difference between a left-
and a right-hand curve is not clear. The situation is com-
plicated, moreover, by the evidence of the first Stieglitz
portrait and Two Friends which combine these forms in
two different fashions. This leaves the drawing of Am-
broise Vollard (Fig. 10) whose falling curve indicates that
de Zayas thought he was on the decline. In fact, although
Vollard had been the dealer for CCzanne and his contem-
poraries, his prestige was being usurped by Daniel
Kahnweiler who represented the Cubists.
Interesting as these details are, they are largely
overshadowed by de Zayas's theory of geometric
equivalents. Although most of the drawings are highly
resistant to interpretation, his experience with the Polyne-
sian soul-catcher, described earlier, indicates the nature of
their underlying inspiration. It also explains why de
Zayas's visual symbolism is difficult to decipher. Ac-
cording to the method revealed to him at the British
Museum, each of his subjects undergoes a process of
double abstraction. In practice this involves two steps: ob-
jectification and simplification. Once an object is chosen
to represent a given person, its basic form is abstracted to
produce a portrait twice removed from reality. In addition,
the choice of the object depends on a double correspon-
dence between subject and object. The resemblance must
be physical as well as "spiritual" (symbolic). The latter
concept involves a search for functional equivalents in
444 THE ART BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1980 VOLUME LXll NUMBER 3
which the role of the object serves as a metaphor for the
role of the subject (Stieglitz the soul-catcher). Although
these intermediate objects are often impossible to identify,
de Zayas makes it perfectly clear that objectification is at
work in every instance. Theodore Roosevelt, for example,
seems to have been constructed around the image of a
common scrub brush - his moustache - perhaps sym-
bolizing the ex-President's abrasiveness, his tendency to
rub people the wrong way. Thus in any caricature we can
expect to find (1)visual reference to physical appearance,
(2) visual symbolism, and (3) a certain amount of aesthetic
adjustment (simplification, displacement, repetition, etc.).
Interestingly, de Zayas made no attempt to standardize
these ingredients, which vary in degree and proportion.
Except for a pair of eyes, Two Friends (Fig. 9) contains no
overt reference at all to subject or object. O n the other
hand, the portraits of Vollard and Apollinaire (Figs. 10 and
13) are fairly representational, and aesthetic distortion is
kept to a minimum.
Returning to the very first abstract caricature (Alfred
Stieglitz, Fig. 3), the source of all the others, we note that it
represents a significant advance over previous efforts. The
earlier drawing LIAccoucheur d'idtes, which juxtaposes a
frontal, full-length view of Stieglitz with the halo of a full
moon, is entirely realistic. Despite the symbolism of the ti-
tle (and the moon), the drawing is essentially allegorical
and thus belongs to an established genre. If de Zayas com-
bines an objective portrait and a metaphoric title in this
work, he reverses the process in the abstract version. Here
we find a metaphoric portrait (the soul-catcher) coupled
with an objective title: Alfred Stieglitz. In transferring his
symbolism from the verbal to the visual plane, the artist
gave it a central position in his aesthetic. Formerly
relegated to the status of an afterthought, tacked on at the
last minute, the symbol became the raison d'gtre of the en-
tire work. In this particular instance, the image is un-
usually apt. Not only does the soul-catcher symbolize
Stieglitz's role as chief proselytizer for modernism in
America, it also symbolizes his efforts as a photographer,
whose task is to capture human images on film. De Zayas
was undoubtedly thinking of the common primitive belief
that a camera imprisons a person's soul. Because the
original soul-catcher (Fig. 4) was geometrical, artistic
alterations of it were minimal in the caricature. De Zayas
eliminated one pair of loops in the interest of symmetry,
blackened the central pair for the same reason, and con-
fined the configuration to a single plane. He then added
the small, textured triangle at the lower left to evoke
Stieglitz's physical appearance, which was dominated by
his glasses and triangular moustache (Fig. 5 ) . The eyeglass
36 De Zayas gave the original drawing to Stieglitz, who later gave it to the
Metropolitan Museum of Art. A slightly smaller pencil and gouache ver-
sion (18 X 14") is owned by the Musee de Peinture et de Sculpture in
Grenoble, where it is incorrectly attributed to Picabia. Except for an in-
motif is repeated above and below, to the right and to the
left of the central pair of circles, stressing Stieglitz's all-
encompassing vision. Alone of all the caricatures, this has
forms that extend past the frame, which symbolizes life,
and into the great Beyond. In this context, as Craig R.
Bailey notes, the eyeglasses may be seen as infinity signs.
A higher tribute to the leader of "291" would be hard to
imagine.36
Although traces of physical characteristics may be seen
in most, if not all, of the other caricatures, their symbolic
objects are often obscured. Thus Agnes Ernst Meyer's
beauty is suggested by the long, flowing lines of her hair, a
breast or two, and her eyes (Fig. 11), but her objective
symbolism escapes us. If the object in the portrait looks
suspiciously like an airplane soaring through the air, its
upward course indicated by the same curves that represent
her hair, this identification is far from certain. The portrait
of Paul B. Haviland (Fig. 12) is even more hermetic. The
twin forms at the bottom, which recall Duchamp's malic
molds, are totally unfamiliar but may depict the halves of
a teacup. We know that Haviland was the American
representative for Haviland china, manufactured in
Limoges, France. From the standpoint cif physical ap-
pearance, there is little doubt that the cup handles are
meant to be his ears - easily his most prominent feature -
which stood out at right angles from his head.37 Similarly
the two halves of the cup, squeezing a fleshy object be-
tween them, probably represent the high, stiff collar that
Haviland liked to wear. The key to interpreting the image
in the middle lies in the series of parallel, M-shaped curves
that give it the appearance of a fountain. Although they
could represent Haviland's eyes, wrinkled forehead, or
hairline (or a combination of these), they almost certainly
refer to his favorite hairstyle. Certainly his second-most
prominent feature was his hair, which he parted in the
middle like H. L. Mencken. In keeping with the Cubist
strategy of displacement (e.g., the ears) and repetition, de
Zayas abstracts and repeats this characteristic frontal
silhouette.
In like manner, the fun-loving Picabia is represented by
three smiling eyes and the rounded contours of his head
(Fig. 7). Otherwise the portrait is impenetrable. The sharp
corners and clean edges suggest a machine part of some
sort, possibly connected with his passion for automobiles.
Vaguely resembling a traffic light, the object has some of
the characteristics of a (bisected) piston, seen from above.
We can increase the resemblance by generating the other
half according to the rules of symmetry, completing the
circles (rings), and combining the black cut-outs to form a
single semicircle in the center (the shaft). Unfortunately,
scription in the lower left corner reading "PICABIA" - probably a
dedication - the portrait is identical to the version in the Metropolitan
Museum. It is reproduced in the Gazette des beaux-arts, Suppl., CLXIII,
February, 1973.
37 See, e.g., Homer, 51.

11 De Zayas, Agnes Ernst Meyer, from Camera Work, April,
1914
we have no way of knowing if this is the correct inter-
pretation. The intermediate object in Ambroise Vollard's
portrait (Fig. 10) is even more elusive. In terms of physical
appearance the dealer is reduced to a pair of glasses and a
pointed beard, but the role of objectification here is un-
clear. Fortunately, the drawing of Apollinaire (Fig. 13) is
more accessible. Physically, the poet's bulk, his prominent
eyes and eyebrows, and the smooth contour of his head
are emphasized (cf. Fig. 14). Literally and figuratively,
he looms large over the picture, his immense body
crammed into the available space and overflowing the
frame. If Apollinaire's physical presence is translated
into heavy volumes, it is likewise evident in the bold
strokes that slash through the work. Thus despite his
great size, his liveliness and love of adventure can be sensed.
As in the portrait of Picabia, the sharp corners and
clean edges suggest a mechanical object. While the
caricature of Agnes Ernst Meyer is fraught with am-
biguity, no such problem exists here: there is little doubt
that Apollinaire is represented as an airplane. For one
thing, we can easily make out both wings of a biplane, ex-
tending from lower left to upper right, and connected by
seven lines representing guy-wires. For another,
Apollinaire's head is shaped exactly like the motor
(without propeller). Moreover, the two quotation-mark
38"Que fais-tu 2917," Camera Work, XLVII, July, 1914, 72.
THE ABSTRACT VISION OF MARIUS DE ZAYAS 445
12 De Zayas, Paul B. Haviland, from Camera Work, April, 1914
curves in the center probably delineate the cowl, just as the
gigantic curve above his head indicates his flight path. In
any case, the analogy between the soaring flight of the
machine and that of the poet is unmistakable. Both sym-
bolize the victory of mind over matter and glorify inven-
tion. The airplane is also the central image of Apollinaire's
best-known poem, "Zone" (1912), which de Zayas is un-
doubtedly alluding to here.
If Apollinaire's portrait is easily the most dynamic of
the series, it is rivaled by the 1915 caricature of Stieglitz as
"291" (Fig. 15). Appearing on the cover of the first issue
of 291 (March, 1915) with the legend "291 throws back its
forelock," the drawing illustrates this gesture with broad
diagonal strokes. As such it announces the ambitious ex-
perimentalism of this avant-garde publication and places
Stieglitz at its head. The idea itself was suggested by a
previous anthropomorphic description of "291" by
Picabia, beginning "291 arranges the locks on its forehead
- but the flames cannot scorch it, and its soul is full of
life. ..."38 Like the earlier version, the Stieglitz portrait
features the well-known glasses and moustache. It is less
abstract, however, than its counterpart (Fig. 5), and the
algebraic equation has been replaced by a printed phrase.
This time the key lies in the vigorous upward motion of
the lines. The strong diagonals indicate that the small mass
446 T H E A R T BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1980 V O L U M E LXll N U M B E R 3
13 D e Zayas, Guillaume Apollinaire, from Les SoirCes de Paris,
July-August, 1914
at the top (Stieglitz's head) has just popped out of the
heavy, rectangular mass at the bottom. Since a jack-in-
the-box is probably too irreverent an image for de Zayas's
mentor, the inevitable conclusion is that a camera with
extended bellows represents Stieglitz. Either object would
be an apt choice. In portraying Stieglitz as a master of sur-
prise, the artist would be stressing the avant-garde role of
"291." In objectifying him as a camera, de Zayas would be
focusing on his reputation as a photographer. "Stieglitz
comprises the history of photography in the United
States," he wrote a few months later, and in 1915 this was
true.39 The former interpretation emphasizes Stieglitz's
function as an innovator, the latter stresses his function as
the eye of the avant-garde. From midwife to soul-catcher
to camera or jack-in-the-box, there is a constant emphasis
on revelation and personal vision.
The subsequent influence of de Zayas's abstract
caricature is as interesting as its creation. Listed for years
as an "antecedent" of Picabia's mechanomorphic style, it
39 291, VII-VIII,September-October, 1915, 1.
40 Camfield (as cited in n. 8 ) , 77-80.
4' Ibid.. 80-81.
14 Guillaume Apollinaire, 1913.Paris,
private collection
occupied an ambiguous position with respect to the latter's
development. With the discovery of the Polynesian soul-
catcher, however, we can no longer ignore the importance
of de Zayas's contribution to modern art. It is now clear
that Picabia's machine drawings derive in large part from
the abstract caricatures. Not only are they deliberately
modeled on the caricatures, they embody the same theory
of the object. Although the long list of European precur-
sors cited by Camfield, a leading authority, establishes a
historical context for this development, most of their in-
fluence seems to have been peripheral.40 The date and
place of Picabia's discovery make this conclusion in-
escapable, for as Camfield has also demonstrated, his
mechanomorphic style began in New York in the summer
of 1915.41 Although the content and aesthetic preoccupa-
tions of his paintings remained much the same, the shift in
style was radical. There is very little in Picabia's
background to prepare us for this development. Arriving
in New York in June, he threw himself into "291" ac-
tivities with renewed vigor.42 Immediately contributing a
drawing to 291, edited by de Zayas, Picabia collaborated
on four of the remaining five issues. The mechanomorphic
style itself does not appear until July, with the publication
of five object-portraits in 291 (Figs. 16-20).43 The sensa-
tion of dijd vu is overwhelming. Stieglitz is portrayed as a
camera, Picabia as an automobile horn, Agnes Ernst
Meyer as a spark-plug, de Zayas as an automotive elec-
42 On May 27, 1915,Picabia's wife sent a telegram to "291" saying that
he would be arriving on the liner Espagne. Alfred Stieglitz Archive, Yale.
43 For an analysis of these drawings see Camfield, 82-84,and William
Innes Homer, "Picabia's Jeune fille amkricaine duns l'ktat de nuditk and
Her Friends," Art Bulletin, LVII,March, 1975, 110-15.
 THE ABSTRACT VISION OF MARlUS DE ZAYAS 447

trical system, and Haviland as a lamp. For all practical

purposes, the subjects of Picabia's 291 series are the same
as those of de Zayas's Camera Work caricatures. In both
cases, the drawings depict editors and collaborators on the
two magazines headed by Stieglitz, whose portrait
.I
291 I0 N Y-*l ,
.I,

naturally comes first. Moreover, Picabia's drawing of

Stieglitz (Fig. 16) seems to be modeled on de Zayas's 1915
portrait of Stieglitz. Both works appear on the cover of
291, both make Stieglitz the personification of "291," and
both portray him as a camera. They even use the same
pose: a side view of the camera lying flat on its back with
its bellows extended upward.
Already familiar with his abstract caricature from con-
versations with de Zayas in 1913 and 1914, Picabia was
finally stimulated to experiment with it by developments
D m , -
in his own art. Whereas previously he had been preoc- - 1 1 1 6 6 1

cupied by his experiments with total abstraction, which

reached their zenith during 1913-14, by 1915 he had tired
of this form and was looking for new inspiration. Doubt-
less the war played a role too, upsetting his life and
creating a need for a stronger mode of expression. Picabia
specifically acknowledged his search for a new art form in
an interview published in October, 1915. Speaking of his
mechanomorphic drawings, he declared: "In seeking
forms through which to interpret ideas or by which to ex-
pose human characteristics, I have come at length upon
the form which appears most brilliantly plastic and ..+
fraught with symbolism. I have enlisted the machinery of
the modern world and introduced it into my studio."44
15 De Zayas, 291 Throws Back Its Forelock, from 291, March,
Although there is no mention of de Zayas here, Picabia's 1915
interest in "ideas" and "human characteristics" is identical
to his friend's "representation of feelings and ideas
through material equivalents." For each, portraiture is a forms are easily recognizable, his works are not much
psychological genre, focusing not so much on the artist's easier to decipher than de Zayas's caricatures. Both artists
subject as on his reaction to his subject. Paradoxically, this use a highly personal symbolism in which humor plays an
response is expressed objectively. Both men create subjec- important part.
tive portraits utilizing objective means - a reversal of the The most obvious example of Picabia's humor lies in his
traditional artistic process. Whereas Duchamp's use of functional analogy - which powers the object-
Readymades begin with the object (and often go no portraits just as it does the abstract caricatures. Here, as
further), Picabia and de Zayas take the individual as their throughout his oeuvre, his comments are inclined to be
starting point. Whereas the Futurists seek to glorify the mischievous, even mocking. If all five portraits present
machine, Picabia and de Zayas are interested only in its their subjects in a humorous light, some are more acerbic
symbolism. Machines are merely the means to an end, not than others. This is the case with the depictions of Stieglitz
the end itself. At the heart of their joint aesthetic lies the and Haviland, whose portraits have been analyzed by
theory of correspondance. Psychological representation Camfield and Homer. Stieglitz is portrayed as a broken
depends on a system of abstract pictorial equivalents. The camera, a gearshift in neutral, and a handbrake that is still
fact that various objects may be identified in the drawings set (Fig. 16). As a lamp Haviland may be a source of light,
does not make them any less abstract. Although Picabia's but someone has cut off his plug (Fig. 18).45 Picabia gets

Anon., "French Artists Spur On American Art," New York Tribune,

44
October 24, 1915, t. rv, 2. Cited in Camfield, 77.
45Given the satirical bent of the other portraits, this is surely not acciden-
tal. The precise reference is hard to pinpoint, but Haviland is clearly cut
off from an important source of energy. Although the absence of love,
motivation, or even money are all possibilities, Picabia is probably
alluding to his imminent departure for Europe (he sailed soon after).
Without the stimulus of "291," which we know he treasured, Haviland
would be deprived of his greatest source of vitality. The fact that the
lamp is portable reinforces this interpretation. The inscription "La pohsie
est comme lui" ("Poetry is like him") may be interpreted to mean that
neither poetry nor Haviland can flourish without vital energy. Ultimately
the portrait is flattering since it stresses Haviland's poetic soul.
448 T H E A R T BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1980 V O L U M E LXll NUMBER 3

ICI, C'EST ICI STlEGLlT

\ \
FOI ET AMOUR

r,

16 Picabia, Ici, c'est ici

Stieglitz, from 291, July-
August, 1915. New York,
Metropolitan Museum of
Art

17 Picabia, Canter, from

291, July-August, 1915

D'UNE JEUNE FILLE A M E R I W N F

DAN^ L. TAT DE NUDITE

LA POEISE EST COMME LUI ,-

5 ~ .

18 Picabia, Voilh Haviland, from

291, July-August, 1915

19 Picabia, Portrait d'une jeune fille

amkricaine duns l'ktat de nuditl,
from 291, July-August, 1915

20 Picabia, De Zayas! De Zayas!,

from 291, July-August, 1915 IDE
ZAYAS! DE ZAYAS!! 1
' z----
7 3- 3
- _---
- --
JE SUlS VENU SUR LES RVAGES

DU PONT-EUXIN
I nc.*.

21 D e Zayas and Agnes Ernst Meyer, Mental Reactions, from
291,April, 1915
off relatively easy, representing himself as a noisy
automobile horn (Fig. 17). The portrait of de Zayas (Fig.
20) is actually quite funny. Modifying a schematic
diagram of an automobile's electrical system, Picabia
depicts de Zayas as an automatic seducing machine. In-
serting a coin in the slot at the top will start his engine
which, in turn, will energize his headlights (at the bottom)
and the sexual parts of the woman at the upper left (sym-
bolized by a corset). The line connecting the tire valve
(valve de pneu in French) at the upper right to the
woman's nipple emphasizes the pneumatic bliss that
awaits him. The comment "J'ai vu et c'est de toi qu'il
s'agit" might best be translated as "I've seen you in action,
and this is certainly you!" Picabia is obviously satirizing
de Zayas's reputation as a lady-killer. Below, the exclama-
tion "De Zayas! De Zayas!" is followed by the phrase "Je
suis venu sur les rivages du Pont-Euxin" ("I have come to
the shores of the Black Sea"). These two inscriptions are
separated by a triangular view of the sea extending to the
46 Homer ("Picabia's Jeune fille amlricaine," 111) claims that "Je suis
venu sur les rivages du Pont-Euxin" is taken from Ovid's Tristia (v.4.1).
In fact, Ovid says precisely the opposite: "I have come from the shores of
the Black Sea" (litore ab Euxino Nasonis epistula ueni); a letter he has
sent to Rome is speaking. Whereas Ovid is miserable in exile, hence the ti-
tle Tristia, Picabia is frankly exuberant at having escaped the war to find
refuge in America.
THE ABSTRACT VISION OF MARIUS DE ZAYAS 449
22 Picabia, Fantaisie, from 291,December, 1915-January, 1916
horizon. The allusion is not to Ovid, as William Homer
suggests, but to Xenophon's Anabasis (1v.8.24).de Glimps-
ing the shores of the Black Sea after their long, arduous
retreat from Persia, Xenophon's soldiers burst into cries of
"Thalassa! Thalassa!" ("The Sea! The Sea!"). For them
the sea represents a highway to their homes. Picabia's ex-
uberant greeting "De Zayas! De Zayas!," which echoes
the reek outburst, exhibits the same joy. For both salva-
tion is at hand. Following a tortuous journey through war-
torn France and across the ocean, Picabia had finally
found refuge in New York with his old friends."
Although the third portrait - a spark-plug (Fig. 19)- is
nameless, Homer argues convincingly that it depicts
Agnes Ernst Meyer.48 Indeed, since the series is devoted to
the 291 editorial board, to which she belonged, mere
process of elimination is enough to make the portrait hers.
On one level, the spark-plug may symbolize her fondness
for automobiles and motoring (one of her favorite
pastimes was driving her limousine up and down Fifth
Avenue). On another level, it may symbolize her personal
qualities. Agnes Ernst Meyer, as Homer notes, was a
dynamic, attractive woman whose marriage to a promi-
nent banker made her financially independent. Stressing
her role as patron of the arts, he concludes that Picabia
portrayed her as "the spark that ignited the new energies
within the Stieglitz group" in 1915. In other words, it is a
flattering portrait. This interpretation is, however, incon-
sistent with the mischievous tone of the other object-
portraits. Here, as elsewhere in the series, Picabia clearly
meant to be humorous. A visual poem published in 291
47Writing in July, de Zayas declared: "Of all those who have come to
conquer America, Picabia is the only one who has done as did Cortez. He
has burned his ship behind him ... He has married America like a man
who is not afraid of consequences" ("New York did not see at first," 291,
V-VI, July-August, 1915, 6).
Homer, "Picabia's Jeune fille amlricaine," 111-15.
450 T H E A R T BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1980 V O L U M E LXll N U M B E R 3
FEMME!
23 De Zayas, Elle, from 291,November, 1915
three months earlier gives us the clue we need. Entitled
"Mental Reactions" (Fig. 21), with drawings by de Zayas
and text by Meyer, it records her reactions to an attractive
man at a gathering. At the top, in the center of her
caricature, de Zayas summarizes her behavior with the
notation FLIRT. It appears from this that flirtation was
Meyer's secret vice and that Picabia thought of her as an
allumeuse - an erotic tease who promised more than she
was prepared to deliver.49 Picabia's personal frustration is
revealed by his title: A n American Girl in a State of
Nudity. If this refers to "the inner personal characteristics
of Mrs. Meyer, laid bare, as it were," (as Homer writes), it
also betrays the artist's desire to behold her in that very
49Picabia never did learn to like the game. In a recently discovered novel,
he comments: "You see, I have arrived at a point where a woman's face
no longer matters! But the magnificent body of the American woman,
who plays golf, dances, swims, drives a car, but doesn't know how to
24 Picabia, Voilic elle, from 291,November, 1915
state. In her capacity as a spark-plug perpetually sparking
men's passions, she prefigures a Readymade Picabia
published two years later in 391 (July, 1917). Consisting of
a lightbulb with the inscriptions "Flirt" and "Divorce," it
bears the title Amiricaine. For Picabia, then, Agnes Ernst
Meyer personified American womanhood.
From these two examples, it is apparent that Picabia's
humor differs radically from de Zayas's. It is much bolder,
much bawdier, and thoroughly French. Not unexpectedly,
the mechanomorphic drawings differ from the caricatures
in several other respects. Instead of algebraic equivalents,
for example, Picabia uses titles and inscriptions. These are
more accessible to the viewer and more expressive. (Once
make love - that's why they invented flirtation. The Latin lover,
however, has so much experience that he is almost a professional"
(Caravanslrail, Paris, 1974, 71). Jules Laforgue used to say there were
three sexes: men, women, and Englishwomen.

lare utre promenade ptr6
'accompa B-";,
it lui- /
sur l e b a n c .
le national
lot se Ikve et
t son co mpat
li, pre nant pour i
i con centriques
. Le /mcomqaeg;eq
t aue p-:
25 Picabia,
Marius de Zayas, .eamonsieur sort en hn
frorn391,March P a r k ~ 8 t k c o u t .f.eC0
again, however, de Zayas appears to be the source of
Picabia's practice. The same substitution occurs in his
Stieglitz portrait published in 291 in March, 1915, in
which he introduces the phrase "291 throws back its
forelock.") More important, Picabia does not carry the
general process of abstraction as far as de Zayas. He
prefers to stop after the first step, focusing on the machine
itself instead of its abstract reduction. What interests him
is the concept of an illusionistic realism functioning within
a symbolic framework. He delights in toying with the
viewer's expectations. The simple, clean lines of his
machines imply that the drawings will be easily un-
derstandable. The illusion of physical realism implies that
the correct interpretation lies at the same level. Already,
however, there is a hint of Picabia's future development.
By the end of the year, the tendency toward further
abstraction evident in the self-portrait and in De Zayas!
De Zayas! leads him to reject realism altogether. One of
the first examples of his new style appears in the Decem-
ber issue of 291. As Camfield has shown, Fantaisie (Fig.
22) is actually an extreme reduction of a nineteenth-
century horizontal-beam steam engine.50 Although Picabia
is no longer interested in portraiture per se, in this and
Camfield (as cited in n. 8), 81-82.
51Anon., Arts and Decoration, November, 1915, 35ff. Acknowledging
that his visual poems were based on experiments by Apollinaire and the
Futurists, de Zayas used the term "psychotype" to describe them ("291
- A New Publication," Camera Work, XLVIII, October, 1916, 62). His
definition, like the term itself, was taken from an article by AmCdCe
other works he returns to de Zayas's principle of double
abstraction. This schematic mode permits him to comment
on philosophical problems, personal relationships, and life
in general.
Additional examples of artistic interaction between de
Zayas and Picabia are plentiful. The years 1915-16 mark
the period of their closest collaboration, which is most ob-
vious in two works dating from ~ o v e m b e r , 1915.
Published side by side in 291, de Zayas's visual poem
"Elle" (Fig. 23) and Picabia's mechanomorphic drawing
Voilh elle (Fig. 24) are practically identical. One critic
reported that "according to the artists' sworn word these
works were portraits of the same woman made at different
times and in different places 'without collusion.'"^^ This is
hard to believe. Situated at the intersection of caricature
and machinism, both works portray the same woman in an
identical manner. The titles are virtually the same (in both
cases "elle" is in capitals), as is their placement. The
chosen language is French. Compositionally, both works
feature a single vertical upright surmounted by a larger
mass; both have a marked diagonal component extending
from the lower left to the upper right corner; and both use
a curved element (at the left) to connect the vertical with
the diagonal. Camfield has shown that Picabia's drawing
represents a pistol aimed at a target and connected to it by
mechanical linkage so that, once the trigger is pulled, it
will continue to fire indefinitely. We are dealing with sex-
ual symbols here, and the portrait depicts a woman with
nymphomaniacal tendencies.52 This interpretation is rein-
forced, moreover, by a cable running from the target to a
furnace in the background. As each bullet strikes the
target it stokes the "furnace" higher and higher. De
Zayas's poem is an equally scathing denunciation of the
unknown woman, who is wholly devoted to carnal
gratification and suffering from "cerebral atrophy." In
addition, the phrase "une ligne droite tracbe par une main
mbcanique" ("a straight line traced by a mechanical
hand") refers to the hand holding the gun in Picabia's
drawing and to its mechanical linkage. All in all, the
resemblance between these two works is so striking that it
cannot possibly be coincidental.
In January, 1917, one year after the demise of 291,
Picabia founded the review 391 with the intention of
furthering the experiments of its predecessor. Not sur-
prisingly 391 continued the pattern of reference and
Ozenfant ("Psychotypie & typomCtrique," L'Ehn, IX,February, 1916, in-
side front cover): "Psychotype, an art which consists in making the
typographical characters participate in the expression of the thoughts
and in the painting of the states of soul, no more as conventional symbols
but as signs having a significance in themselves."
52 See Camfield, 85.
452 THE ART BULLETIN SEPTEMBER 1980 VOLUME L X l l NUMBER 3
26 John Covert, Time, 1919. New Haven, Conn., Yale
University Art Gallery
27 JeanCrotti, Clown, 1916. Collection unknown
counter-reference between the two friends. The most ob-
vious example concerns an exchange of caricatures the
same year. In connection with a fictitious lecture at-
tributed to de Zayas, Picabia published a sketch of him in
March (Fig. 25). De Zayas immediately retaliated with a
caricature of Picabia, appearing in 391 in June.53 Their
relationship had revolved around this art form for so long
that each instinctively resorted to it to communicate with
the other.
Although Picabia's mechanomorphic style was destined
to play a major role in modern art, de Zayas's caricatures
gradually faded into the background. Becoming in-
creasingly preoccupied with the business side of the art
world, de Zayas failed to exploit his discoveries and even-
tually abandoned caricature altogether. In spite of this, his
drawings and theories enjoyed considerable success. Their
influence is evident in caricatures by Edward Steichen and
Katharine Rhoades published in 291 and, to some extent,
in works by John Covert and Jean Crotti. Using up-
53 Since the printer misplaced the drawing, only the inscriptions were
holstery tacks and mathematical expressions, Covert's
Time (Fig. 26) combines algebraic and geometric
equivalents in a manner resembling abstract caricature.
Dating from 1916,Crotti's construction Clown (Fig. 27)is
strangely reminiscent of de Zayas's earlier Stieglitz por-
trait. Like the latter, it expresses a personal vision of the
artist as soul-catcher, though its focus is popular rather
than elitist. Crotti adds color, a triangular hat, and a
springy backbone to portray a clown juggling four balls
before the fascinated gaze of his audience. Of course de
Zayas's indirect influence - via Picabia - was much
greater. The repercussions of the mechanomorphic style,
chronicled by Camfield and Agee, are still being felt today.
Ultimately Picabia's style was his own, but its success was
due in no small part to the vitality of de Zayas's original
inspiration.
University of California, Santa Cruz
Santa Cruz, CA 95064
printed. See Michel Sanouillet, Francis Picabia et "391", Paris, 1966, 60
and 72.
http://www.jstor.org

LINKED CITATIONS
- Page 1 of 1 -

You have printed the following article:

The Abstract Vision of Marius de Zayas
Willard Bohn
The Art Bulletin, Vol. 62, No. 3. (Sep., 1980), pp. 434-452.
Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0004-3079%28198009%2962%3A3%3C434%3ATAVOMD%3E2.0.CO%3B2-M

This article references the following linked citations. If you are trying to access articles from an
off-campus location, you may be required to first logon via your library web site to access JSTOR. Please
visit your library's website or contact a librarian to learn about options for remote access to JSTOR.

[Footnotes]

43
Picabia's Jeune fille américaine dans l'état de nudité and Her Friends
William Innes Homer
The Art Bulletin, Vol. 57, No. 1. (Mar., 1975), pp. 110-115.
Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0004-3079%28197503%2957%3A1%3C110%3APJFADL%3E2.0.CO%3B2-M

46
Picabia's Jeune fille américaine dans l'état de nudité and Her Friends
William Innes Homer
The Art Bulletin, Vol. 57, No. 1. (Mar., 1975), pp. 110-115.
Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0004-3079%28197503%2957%3A1%3C110%3APJFADL%3E2.0.CO%3B2-M

48
Picabia's Jeune fille américaine dans l'état de nudité and Her Friends
William Innes Homer
The Art Bulletin, Vol. 57, No. 1. (Mar., 1975), pp. 110-115.
Stable URL:
http://links.jstor.org/sici?sici=0004-3079%28197503%2957%3A1%3C110%3APJFADL%3E2.0.CO%3B2-M

NOTE: The reference numbering from the original has been maintained in this citation list.