Dadá

Often considered anti-art, the Dadá art movement originated in Europe in the 1910s with explicit political undertones. Poking fun at modern capitalism and traditional artistic values, the intent was straightforward anarchy. 

As a word, it’s nonsense – or, some would argue that it’s a colloquial French term for a hobby horse, or popularised by artists Tristan Tzara and Marcel Janice’s frequent use of the words “da, da”—“yes, yes” in the Romanian language, perhaps mocking the population’s blind obedience to authority. Or, better yet—it’s an infant babble, evoking childishness and silliness. 

The movement is a post-war outburst, a PTSD of sorts, made to shock, confuse and outrage viewers. We get it. Cabaret Voltaire Hugo Ball’s Sound Poem Karawane (1916) is no more explicable than drunken slam poetry at the pub. Or, was it a dialect for “meaninglessness” in existential nihilism? Jean Arp’s deconstructed randomness in collages is an eery parallel to our chaotic times. For some, it’s escapism. Especially in the context of a world on the brink of annihilation and helmed by megalomaniacs (does that remind you of anyone?)

Saltiness is almost always a product of social distress. Perhaps the point is that oftentimes art isn’t enough, that we can’t simply paint over things like a sloppy landlord glossing over the cracks, rather than fixing the root cause. Sometimes, anti-art speaks volumes.

Sarcasm is a coping mechanism after all.