Marcel Duchamp & John Cage Play Musical Chess
Plus strange tales from the ball diamond, a disastrous museum exhibit, and more...
On a cold winter's night in 1968, a phone rang in an apartment on Spadina Road. The man who answered it was named Lowell Cross; he was an American student at the University of Toronto. He'd come north to write his thesis on the history of electronic music, studying under Marshall McLuhan among others. Soon, he would become known as "the inventor of the laser light show," but he was already experimenting with new technologies — combining electronic music with electronic visuals. One of his multimedia projects had just been featured at Expo '67 in Montreal. He was gaining quite a reputation. That's why his phone was ringing. John Cage was calling.
Cage was the world's most notoriously experimental composer. Cross was a big fan — in fact, Cage featured prominently in his thesis. Now, the composer was calling to ask Cross for help: he needed someone to build a musical chessboard.
At first, Cross said no. He was just too busy; he had a thesis to write. But then Cage said two words that changed his mind:
"Marcel Duchamp."
Duchamp was one of the most famous and controversial artists of... well... ever. When he painted Nude Descending A Staircase (No. 2) as a young man in Paris, even the jury of a cubist exhibition his own brothers were helping to curate refused to display it. ("A nude never descends the stairs," they told him, "a nude reclines.") When the painting finally did appear in public, it was part of one of the most scandalous exhibitions of all-time: the Armory Show in New York City, which introduced the United States to modern art for the first time. There were works by Picasso, Matisse, Manet and Cézanne. But Duchamp's Nude was the biggest attraction. Thousands of people showed up to get angry at it. The New York Times called it "an explosion in a shingle factory."
But plenty of other people loved it. The Armory Show sparked the birth of New York's modern art scene. And before long, Duchamp was a part of it himself: when the First World War broke out, he fled the military patriotism sweeping France in favour of the United States, which was still neutral in those early days of the war.
In New York, Duchamp continued his attack on the old, conservative, academy-based art world. When one exhibition promised to display any artwork submitted to them, Duchamp sent them a urinal and called it Fountain. They refused to show it, but it was too late. Just the idea of it — the questions it raised about the definition of art and the artist and the gallery system — was a massive, giant, game-changing idea. A recent survey of five hundred art professionals found the urinal to be the most influential artwork of the twentieth century.
Duchamp wouldn't be in New York for long, though. When the U.S. joined the war, he moved on to another neutral country, heading south to Argentina. He'd spend the next few years living in Buenos Aires. And while he was there, something happened that would change his life forever.
Marcel Duchamp became obsessed with chess.
When he got back to Paris after the war, they say he wasn't even really a practicing artist anymore. Instead, he became an officially-recognized chess master. He wrote columns about the game. He played it so much his frustrated wife once glued his pieces to the board. Duchamp was only about thirty, but for the rest of his entire life, until he died at the age of 81, chess would be his overwhelming passion. Not art.
"I have come to the personal conclusion that while all artists are not chess players, all chess players are artists," he announced.
John Cage, by comparison, kind of sucked at chess. But he was pretty good at composing experimental music. He came of age in the generation that followed Duchamp's — and he was deeply influenced by the French artist. "The effect for me of Duchamp's work," Cage once wrote, "was to so change my way of seeing that I became in my way a Duchamp unto myself."
There was, Cage said, "One way to study music: study Duchamp."
And so, inspired by the rebel artist, the young composer set about breaking down the walls of melody, tonality, scale and structure. He opened his music up to chance, using the I Ching and random luck to make decisions about what notes to place where. Duchamp used found objects; Cage used found sounds. His most famous piece, 4'33", was nothing more than four minutes and thirty-three seconds of a pianist not playing the piano, giving the audience a chance to listen to the ambient noise around them instead. When the piece premiered in 1952, even a crowd filled with fans of the avant-garde streamed out of the exits before it was over, muttering angrily. Forty years had passed since Duchamp's Nude, but not all that much had changed.
By then, Cage and Duchamp had already met. They'd been introduced by mutual friends and even worked together: Cage composed music for a film Duchamp helped make. But it wasn't until the 1960s that they became friends. As Duchamp grew older, his health began to fail him; Cage realized his time was running out. And so, he came up with an idea to turn his greatest influence into one of his closest friends.
He would ask Duchamp to teach him chess.
The plan worked. At least once a once week for the rest of his life, one of the most revolutionary artists of the twentieth century sat down at a chessboard across from one of the century's most revolutionary composers. And he beat him every single time. "Don't you ever play to win?" Duchamp complained, frustrated by his own dominance. But Cage was just happy to be hanging out with one of his heroes. Besides, the composer had an even bigger victory in mind.
Everyone assumed Duchamp was done with art forever — no one, not even Cage, realized he was secretly working on a piece to be revealed after his death. So Cage found a way to lure him into one final public appearance as an artist. He would turn their usual chess game into a work of art itself.
That's why he called Lowell Cross. Cage needed a chessboard that could turn the moves of the chess pieces into music. It would require the kind of innovative, interdisciplinary design for which Cross was known. Cage already knew about Cross' work; in fact, they'd already met — they'd both contributed to a recent event in New York City billed as the musical equivalent of the Armory Show. Cross was the perfect person to build the chessboard. And as busy as he was, there was no way he could say no to Cage and Duchamp.
Still, there wasn't much time. The big match was only a few weeks away. It would happen in Canada. Toronto Metropolitan University (still known as Ryerson back then) was about to host something called the Sightsoundsystems Festival — a celebration of art and technology — and the showdown between Cage and Duchamp would be the headlining event, held on the opening night. They would call it Reunion, since the spectacle would bring together a whole team of groundbreaking composers who had worked together before. Cross scrambled to finish the board in time; it wasn't done until the night before the match.
The following afternoon — a wintry Tuesday, March 5 — Marcel Duchamp arrived in Toronto. As he checked into his hotel (the Windsor Arms near Bay & Bloor), he was worried. He told a friend he had no clue why he was in Canada. Cage hadn't told him anything, just that they were going to do something at the university that night.
What he found when he arrived was a surreal scene. Two of the greatest artists of the twentieth century took their seats in the middle of the stage at the Ryerson Theatre, bathed in bright light and the gaze of the audience. Photographers circled around them, shutters snapping; a movie camera whirred. The stage was a mess of gadgets. There were wires everywhere; a tangle of them plugged right into side of the chessboard. A pair of TV screens was set up on either side of the stage. The Toronto Star called it "a cross between an electronic factory and a movie set."
Duchamp was an old man now; he was 80. "A grave, quiet figure in a dark blue suit," The Globe and Mail called him; "his skin had the transparent quality sometimes seen in those who are at once very old and very well preserved." In fact, he only had a few months left to live. But he still played with a quiet confidence in the midst of the electronic chaos, calmly smoking a cigar and drinking wine while he studied the board, his wife Teeny sitting at his elbow with a cigarette. Across from him, his younger opponent anxiously puffed away at the cigarette holder clutched between his fingers. "Cage looked nervous," the Star said, "like a man who knows he's going to lose."
They were, said the Globe, "like figures in a Beckett play, locked in some meaningless game. The audience, staring silently and sullenly at what was placed before it, was itself a character; and its role was as meaningless as the others. It was total non-communication, all around."
It was Duchamp who made the first move. And as the players began to play, so did the music. Cross had rigged each square in the board with a photoresistor — so that every time a chess piece moved to a new square, it blocked the light and sent a signal through the wires.
Those wires were hooked up to an elaborate sound system. There was a series of speakers spread out across the theatre, along with a team of experimental composers armed with strange instruments they'd either made or modified themselves. "Tuners, amplifiers and all manner of electronic gadgetry," according to the Star. As the composers coaxed bizarre noises out of their instruments, the moves on the chessboard decided which sounds were heard and which speakers played them. They were echoed on the TV screens, too, which flickered with scrambled, oscillating images. One of Cross' prerecorded compositions was also added to the mix.
As the game progressed and the positions of the pieces became more complex, so too did the music. The room filled with "screeches, buzzes, twitters and rasps." The peak of the racket didn't last for very long, though. Before the match had started, Duchamp had given Cage a handicap — removing one of his own white knights — but it didn't make much difference. One by one, Cage's black pieces were being removed from the board. And as the pieces disappeared, the music simplified in response.
It was all over pretty quickly. Duchamp took less than half an hour to beat Cage. They didn't even have time to finish their bottle of wine.
A second game followed; this time Cage faced off against Teeny Duchamp. They were much more evenly matched, locked in battle for hours, their stalemate stretching long into the night. The audience gradually grew tired and bored; people trickled out into the cold. After a few hours, there were fewer than ten of them left. Even Duchamp dozed off. By one in the morning, the old artist had had enough. They agreed to call it a night.
Out in the audience someone shouted: "Encore!"
The reviews the next morning weren't much kinder than the initial reviews of Duchamp's Nude or Cage's 4'33". The Star called Reunion "infinitely boring... Among great cultural events of the decade, this wasn't one of the exciting ones..." The Globe agreed: "a case of the blind leading the blind."
But the reviews, of course, weren't the point. The artists had done what they set out to do, what they had both been doing since the very beginning of their careers: breaking down the walls between life and art. It was Lowell Cross who put it best. Reunion, he said, was "a public celebration of Cage's delight in living everyday life as an art form."
Duchamp passed away a few months later. Cage followed him a couple of decades after that. But the memory of their strange chess match lives on. Nearly half a century after the two icons of the avant-garde took to the stage at Toronto Metropolitan University, artists are still performing their work. A version of Reunion's musical chess match was part of the Edinburgh Fringe festival in 2013. A year before that, a Chilean artist mounted his own version at the National Museum of Fine Arts in Santiago. Another version was performed in Oslo that same year. And in 2010, during Toronto's Nuit Blanche festival, Reunion returned to the very same stage where Duchamp and Cage had battled with queens and knights and bishops — and squeals and buzzes and rasps — all those years ago.
The most invaluable source in researching this piece was Lowell Cross' own account of Reunion. You can read it in a PDF via JohnCage.org here.
A version of this piece originally appeared on my blog back in 2015. I’ve been under the weather all week, so thought I’d share an old favourite.
The Toronto History Weekly needs your help! The newsletter involves a ton of work, so it’s only by growing the number of paid subscriptions that I’ll be able to continue doing it. And while the numbers have been encouraging so far this year, they actually went down a little bit this week. Thanks so much to everyone who already does support it with a few dollars a month — it’s thanks to you that I’m able to continue doing it! And if you haven’t already made the switch but would like to, you can do it by clicking right here:
Just Two Weeks Left for our Toronto Sports History Exhibit!
The clock is ticking on the Toronto sports history exhibit I co-curated for Myseum. There are now just a couple of weeks left before it closes forever! So if you’ve been meaning to check it out, make sure to swing by before March 9.
If you are interested, here’s everything you need to know:
Description: We are a city of record breakers, rabble rousers, and game changers. Ride the highs and the lows of Toronto’s sports histories in our latest exhibition. Sports have shaped our city for generations — from infamous bat flips and buzzer-beating three-pointers, to Stanley Cup curses and fairweather fandoms. Whether they bring us together or reflect our divisions, the sports we play tell us a story.
When: It’s open Wednesday–Saturday, 12–6pm, and runs until March 9.
How much: It’s free! (Though donations to Myseum are welcome.)
Where: Myseum of Toronto, which is inside 401 Richmond (right across the hallway from the Spacing Store).
Three Strange Baseball Tales
Not only is baseball spring training underway, but my Myseum Masterclass about the history of baseball in Toronto kicked off on Tuesday. So I figured for this week’s “Weird Toronto History” radio segment, I’d share some of my favourite strange stories from our city’s baseball past.
You can listen to the trio of odd tales below. And you can catch “Weird Toronto History” every Tuesday afternoon at 3:20pm on Newstalk 1010’s The Rush.
I’ve Got Two Big Upcoming Talks!
My apologies to everyone who was excited for my talk last week! I was meant to share some stories from The Toronto Book of Love with the North York Historical Society at the North York Central Library. But I’ve been miserably sick all week, so I was forced to cancel the event in favour of spending that night in bed with a fever. But! We’re hoping to reschedule it as soon as possible — and I’ve also still got two other big talks coming up that I’m very excited about…
THE HIDDEN ROMANTIC HISTORY OF TORONTO ARCHITECTURE
Thursday, March 7 — 6pm || I’ll be part of this year’s annual fundraiser for the Town of York Historical Society and Toronto’s First Post Office. The theme is this year’s event is “Unveiling Toronto's Architectural Tapestry,” so I’ll be sharing some of the unexpected love stories that surround us every day — the passionate affairs, devoted marriages and shocking betrayals of the architects and artists responsible for the construction of some of our grandest buildings.
The event will also include presentations from artist Summer Leigh and architect Alessandro Tersigni, along with a silent auction, a pop-up stationary shop with local vendors, a pop-up art exhibition, and food and drink for sale. It’s being held in the Great Room of St. Lawrence Hall (157 King Street East), which is a spectacularly beautiful space. Learn more.
TORONTO’S FOUNDING DOG & HOW HE ALMOST GOT EATEN
Thursday, March 14 — 7:30pm || I’ll be delivering the 2024 Howland Lecture at Lambton House (4066 Old Dundas Street) for Heritage York. It will be a talk about our city’s founding canine, Jack Sharp, and how the big Newfoundland got himself into some very deep trouble. Learn more.
QUICK LINKS
The best of everything else that’s new in Toronto’s past…
ANCIENT REMAINS NEWS — In The Toronto Star, Emily Fagan and Jermaine Wilson share the story of how the Indigenous remains were discovered in Riverdale last month: by a 74-year-old man falling into a hole (who, in a remarkable coincidence, seems to have also been involved in the uncovering of ancient remains inside Scarborough’s Tabor Hill all the way back in 1956).
As Fagan and Wilson go on to write, “It’s also presented questions around how Toronto should address its history of building over sacred Indigenous places. The city is aware of the street's history as an Indigenous burial site and a consultant who worked to develop the city’s plan to prevent the disruption of these areas is frustrated there was construction happening there.” Read more.
PHILATELIST NEWS — A new stamp from Canada Post honours Mary Ann Shadd, the first Black woman in North America to run her own newspaper. The Provincial Freeman was published in Windsor, Toronto and Chatham over the years — with the Toronto offices standing on King Street East (just across the road from St. James Park, where you’ll find a plaque today).
Her dad also had a stamp dedicated to his memory back in 2009. Abraham Shadd was an abolitionist who became the first Black Canadian to serve in public office. It makes them the first father-daughter duo recognized with their own Canadian stamps. Read more.
DISASTROUS EXHIBIT NEWS — Jamie Bradburn looks back at “one of the most controversial exhibits ever mounted at the Royal Ontario Museum.” When the ROM opened its “In The Heart of Africa” exhibit in 1989 it did so without consulting any Black or African communities. “[It] would go on to be cited in textbooks as an example of how not to put on a major exhibit.” Read more.
CARTOGRAPHY NEWS — Richard Fiennes-Clinton of Muddy York Walking Tours shared an absolutely fascinating map on Facebook this week. It shows Toronto back in 1834, the year it was officially incorporated as a city (having been founded as the town of York decades earlier). The map was created by artist Ethel Foster a century later, and The City of Toronto Archives has a version you can zoom waaaaaaay in on to explore all the details. It’s an engrossing depiction of our city as it looked nearly 200 years ago. (Though I should note that it does include a few inaccuracies as well as some colonial language and assumptions.) Check it out.
TORONTO HISTORY EVENTS
SLAVERY IN THE TOWN OF YORK AND BEYOND
February 28 — 7pm — Northern District Library — North Toronto Historical Society
“In this illustrated talk, historian Hilary J. Dawson uses original documents to tell the stories of people of colour who were regarded as property by such influential figures as Peter Russell. She will also reveal why some wealthy landowners settled in our area after the abolition of slavery in British colonies in 1834.” (A brief Annual General Meeting will precede this program.)
LORNA POPLAK ON THE DON: THE STORY OF TORONTO’S MOST INFAMOUS JAIL
February 28 — 7pm — The Beaches Sandbox — The Beach & East Toronto Historical Society
“Conceived as a ‘palace for prisoners,’ the Don Jail never lived up to its promise. Although based on progressive nineteenth-century penal reform and architectural principles, the institution quickly deteriorated into a place of infamy where both inmates and staff were in constant danger of violence and death. Its mid-twentieth-century replacement, the New Don, soon became equally tainted.”
Free!
ATROCITY ON THE ATLANTIC: THE LONG WAKE OF A FORGOTTEN WAR CRIME AGAINST A CANADIAN HOSPITAL SHIP
February 29 — 6:30pm (Corrected time!) — Toronto Reference Library
“On the evening of June 27, 1918, an unarmed, clearly marked Canadian hospital ship called the Llandovery Castle was torpedoed off the coast of Ireland by a German U-boat. Sinking hospital ships violated international treaties, so the submarine commander tried to kill the survivors to conceal his war crime. ... This presentation will discuss the attack, the survivors and the deceased, why the attack was forgotten, and the long aftermath of an atrocity that continues to impact military conduct and international law today.”
Free!
PRINTING MARY ANNE SHADD’S NEWSPAPER AT MACKENZIE HOUSE
Until February 29 — Various times daily, Wed to Sun — Mackenzie House
“Join Mackenzie House for a tribute to the life and work of Mary Ann Shadd Cary, the first Black woman to publish a newspaper in North America. In 1854, she was publishing her newspaper, The Provincial Freeman, on King Street in Toronto. Visitors are invited to print a copy of Mary Ann's newspaper on the 1845 press, customized with their name!”
Free!
BLACK DEFENDERS OF UPPER CANADA TOUR AT FORT YORK
Until February 29 — Various times daily, Wed to Sun — Fort York
“Discover the contributions made by Richard Pierpoint, and the Coloured Corps, in the defence of what is now Ontario during the War of 1812. Learn about the connections between global trade, global consumption and the African Diaspora through an exploration of ingredients used in the historic kitchen.”
Free!
LORNA POPLAK ON TORONTO’S DON JAIL
March 6 — 8pm — Swansea Town Hall & Online — Swansea Historical Society
“Lorna Poplak is a Toronto-based writer, editor, and researcher. She is the author of two award-nominated non-fiction books: — The Don – The Story of Toronto’s Infamous Jail, and Drop Dead – A Horrible History of Hanging in Canada. With these and other publications, Lorna is establishing herself as an authority on the history of crime and punishment in Canada. Her presentation will include many fascinating stories about people associated with the Don Jail – the inmates, the staff, the governors, people who escaped from the Don, and people whose lives ended there at the end of a rope.”
Free, I believe!
THE HISTORY OF THE ARGONAUT ROWING CLUB
March 7 — 7pm — Online & In Person — St. John’s West Toronto — West Toronto Junction Historical Society
“Join us for an extraordinary evening as we uncover the riveting history of the Argonaut Rowing Club, spanning 150 years of passion, perseverance, and glory. Rower/Author Anne Shelton and Author/Rower Dave Lovell will take center stage to reveal the secrets behind the creation of a 150-page book in just seven months. This exclusive event transcends the rowing community, offering a unique glimpse into the fascinating process of research, writing, and publishing that brought the club’s rich legacy to life.
WOMEN’S HISTORY PIN-MAKING CRAFT: MARCH BREAK AT COLBORNE LODGE
March 9 to 17 — 11am, 12pm, 1pm, 3pm — Colborne Lodge
“Come celebrate International Women's Day this March Break at Colborne Lodge! This special program will treat your family to a tour exploring the lives of the women who lived in this historic house. Take selfies while on tour and turn your photos into a unique memento to wear home.”
$20
CARNEGIE LIBRARIES IN ONTARIO: VINTAGE POSTCARDS
March 14 — 2pm — Toronto Reference Library
“Join us for a visual tour of Ontario's Carnegie Libraries through vintage postcards and other ephemera held in the Special Collections Department. The presentation will feature unique materials highlighting the history of Toronto's beautiful Carnegie Branches.”
Free!
THE LIFE & TIMES OF ALFRED LAFFERTY
March 21 — 7:30pm — Montgomery’s Inn — The Etobicoke Historical Society
“In 1869 Alfred M. Lafferty, M.A., Richmond Hill, was a witness to the marriage of William Denis Lafferty, a black farmer who lived in Etobicoke. Who was the man with the same surname and a university degree? Hilary J. Dawson’s research uncovered the story of the Lafferty family, and the successes, challenges, and tragedies they faced. The Lafferty parents arrived from the United States in the 1830s as freedom-seekers and their two older sons later farmed in Etobicoke. The youngest son, Alfred, won prizes for excellence at both Upper Canada College and the University of Toronto. Alfred M. Lafferty would be the first black High School Principal in the province. Later, he became the first Canadian-born black lawyer in Ontario.”
Free for members; annual memberships cost $25