The Large Glass Stripped Bare by Methodologies, Even

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The Large Glass Stripped Bare by Methodologies, Even

Marcel Duchamp, The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even, 1915-23

 
The Large Glass Stripped Bare by Methodologies, Even

A horizon line separates Marcel Duchamp’s The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors,

Even (1915-23) into two distinct realms of the forever estranged ‘Bride’ and her ‘bachelors’.

This compartmentalization results in a tense play of castrated desire and sexual frustration—an

interminable drama acted by gendered mechanical forms, drawing upon early twentieth century

anxieties about the consequences of increased industrialization. Marcel Duchamp’s exploration

of identity—an ontological examination of gender, sexuality, and erotic drives—roots itself

firmly in the complex iconography of The Large Glass. Yet, Duchamp’s iconography is of his

own creation and functions within a vast sea of the artist’s prototypical sketches, notes, and

previously realized works as a complex system of image and text. Although an altogether

comprehensive interpretation of The Large Glass could be satisfied through a synthesized

methodology informed by psychoanalytic theory, Marxist ideology, feminist studies, and n-

dimensional analysis, the complexity of Marcel Duchamp’s “hilarious picture” necessitates an

initial exploration of the fundamental iconological and semiological foundation of language and

meaning encoded in Duchamp’s unique visual and textual symbols.1

Marcel Duchamp executed The Bride Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even, (Image 1)

on two panes of glass together measuring 110 inches tall and 70 inches wide—thus giving rise to

its popular title, The Large Glass. The work consists of oil paint, lead foil, lead wire, varnish,

and dust, and is currently housed at the Philadelphia Museum of Art, where it has stood since

1954, enclosed within glass casing framed by metal atop a wooden support. 2 After Duchamp’s

first showing of his masterwork at the International Exhibition of Modern Art at the Brooklyn

                                                        
1
John Golding, Marcel Duchamp: The Bride Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even (New York: Viking Press,
1972), 8.
2
Ibid.

 
Museum in 1926, the fragile panels of The Large Glass were shattered in transit.3 Duchamp

subsequently decided to embrace the chance circumstance, considering the cracked glass with

the same ideological mindset that governed his decision to glue down dust that had collected on

the glass planes during a period of creative inactivity—a process photographed by Man Ray in

Dust Breeding (1920) (Image 2). This element of chance, coupled with the effect of viewing a

vertical and transparent plane, fosters a highly interactive experience on behalf of the viewer,

who is free to engage with The Large Glass through a glass (darkly), in its environment of light-

play and obscurity, opacity and reflection.

Upon first glance—or, realistically, after numerous subsequent glances—The Large

Glass fails to present any explicit narrative. Indeed, Duchamp undermined European art

historical convention in robbing the viewer of human-based forms, instead presenting a

composition of abstracted, mechanized systems. The Large Glass is divided horizontally into two

rectangular planes of equal size, one atop the other. A metal bar of the framing structure

separates the two sections, which are otherwise conjoined only by the chance cracks of the glass

medium. In the upper portion of the work, three vacant squares with imprecise edges float in a

golden cloud-like mass. To the left of this curvilinear form is an abstract system of molded

sheets, intricately fashioned into a system of consistent verticality with considerably more

negative space at its base, which is composed more of elongated fixtures than of massive planes.

Paralleling—but by no means reflecting—the space taken up by this mechanical structure is a

field of holes bounded (by chance) within rhomboidal outlines of fissure trails to the right of the

upper portion of The Large Glass. Below this relatively vacant plane sits another panel of figures

filled with additional forms of slightly more recognizable appearance. At the center of this lower

plane is the most prominent of the identifiable figures in The Large Glass—an antiquated
                                                        
3
Golding, Marcel Duchamp, 9. 

 
chocolate grinder. The chocolate grinder figure consists of a base with three wheeled legs and the

three abutted barrels that they support. Resting on the adossed drums is a support for an

umbrella-like pole with two perpendicular axis rods, centrally intersected by an arc of shaded

cones. To the right of the parasol assemblage are four circular forms—a multi-ringed loop

sandwiched by two radial discs and crowned by a circular outline. The leftward radials of the

central device support a parallelepiped casing that holds a water wheel. In the background of this

shape is a collection of nine abstracted human forms.

As with any work—but particularly with regard to one that provides nothing but

abstracted visual forms—primary, or natural, content does not present an adequate interpretation

The Large Glass. In his threefold formula for iconographical analysis, Erwin Panofsky insisted

on a pre-iconographical description of primary subject matter, followed by an iconographical

analysis of identified forms, concluded by an iconological synthesis rooted within literary,

visual, and cultural history.4 Panofsky’s iconological approach to the interpretation of images

provides a successful methodology for a system of meaning that is incontrovertible within its

own constructs and in harmony with “what we see with our eyes.”5 Aiming at an accurate

reading of visual texts through a nondiscriminatory investigation based most purely on

descriptive pictorial information, Panofsky’s disciplined method escapes the common pitfalls of

popular analysis. By honoring each element of iconography with the power of intentional

description, Panofsky’s iconologic methodology ensures a solid interpretation based not solely

on analysis, but rather upon synthesis of iconography and iconology—of visual evidence and

cultural context.

                                                        
4
Erwin Panofsky, “Iconography and Iconology: An Introduction to the Study of Renaissance Art,” in Meaning in
the Visual Arts. (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1982), 26.
5
Erwin Panofsky, “Et in Arcadia Ego: Poussin and the Elegiac Tradition,” in Meaning in the Visual Arts. (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1983), 315.

 
The earliest endeavors made at attempting to interpret The Large Glass—by André

Breton and Arturo Schwarz—utilized Panofsky’s process of iconological analysis. In a written

address to viewers of Duchamp’s enigmatic work, entitled “Lighthouse of the Bride,” André

Breton applied Panofsky’s methodology in order to interpret The Large Glass. Breton is precise

in his progression through Panofsky’s triadic strata of reading subject matter, informing the

viewer that, “reference to the numbered reproduction of The Large Glass overleaf will provide

the information needed, first of all, to identify the various elements that go to make up the whole

scheme.”6 The second step of the interpretive process, he confirms, is successively “to become

aware of their respective roles in the functioning of this scheme.”7 Breton introduces his

interpretation with a proper description of the first stratum of subject matter—pre-iconographical

description based solely upon visual information and making reference to numbered diagram that

indicates the various elements of The Large Glass (Image 3). Panofsky divided this first level of

subject matter into two main forms of visual information—factual and expressional, both of

which Breton explores in “The Lighthouse of the Bride”. Breton outlines the factual subject

matter of The Large Glass in his diagram, labeling the parts with descriptive titles, and providing

“basic directions for the spatial exploration” of Duchamp’s work.8 With the primary subject

matter as the object of interpretation, a viewer of The Large Glass is able to use practical

experience and familiarity with objects as they are historically represented by forms in order to

identify mainly the chocolate grinder, the water mill, and the human clothing sets in the lower

half of the work. Through practical experience, the viewer attaches expressional value to the

                                                        
6
André Breton, “Lighthouse of the Bride,” in Surrealism and Painting, trans. Simon Taylor (London: MacDonald,
1972), 94.
7
Breton, “Lighthouse of the Bride,” 94.
8
Ibid, 97. 

 
primary subject matter—concepts and feelings associated with these identifiable forms like

mechanization and isolation.

After identifying the primary subject matter of Duchamp’s work, Breton constructs a

framework for understanding The Large Glass in a historical context, writing:

This very special process can only acquire its full meaning and become entirely
comprehensible after it has been reintegrated with a series of other processes of a causal
nature, none of which we can afford to ignore. In other words, to understand Duchamp’s
work and to have some inkling of its future impact in every direction it is indispensible to
possess, beforehand, a profound historical understanding of the way this work
developed.9

Panofsky defines this second, or conventional, stratum of subject matter as the analysis of

symbols, attributes, and allegories at an iconographical level.10 The act of iconographical

analysis requires the knowledge of appropriate sources and texts—familiarity of Duchamp’s

prior work and the themes and concepts expressed in them. As an ardent Duchamp devotee and

connoisseur, Breton possessed the connoisseurial knowledge necessary to accurately identify

stylistic lineage throughout the artist’s oeuvre. At this level of iconographical interpretation,

Breton identifies the ways in which Duchamp had previously expressed concepts and themes

through visual systems, subsequently providing a history of his creative development. Marcel

Duchamp explored impressions relating mostly to Cubist constructs and his notion of the

readymade during the eight-year span of his labor on The Large Glass, and the work

consequently emerges as an amalgamation of his contemporaneous sculptures and paintings.

During the early years of his work on The Large Glass, Duchamp refined the Cubist style that

informed works his like Nude Descending a Staircase, No.2 (1912) (Image 4). One may find

stylistic and iconographic antecedents of the Bride’s Domain in Duchamp’s Cubist works of

1911 and 1912, which concentrated on the theme of virginity and bridehood, or, sexual initiation.
                                                        
9
Breton, “Lighthouse of the Bride,” 88.
10
Panofsky, “Iconography and Iconology,” 40. 

 
Both versions of Nude Descending a Staircase (1911, 1912), Virgin, I (1912), Virgin, II (1912),

The Bride (1912) (Image 5), and The Passage from Virgin to Bride (1912) (Image 6) serve as

stylistic and conceptual forerunners to Duchamp’s formation of the Bride Machine of The Large

Glass.

Stylistic precursors of The Large Glass are also found in Duchamp’s readymades from

the early part of the twentieth century—such as Bicycle Wheel (1913) (Image 7), or the

(in)famous Fountain (1917)—which functioned through the promotion of mass-manufactured

commercial objects to the designation as ‘art’ purely through the choice of the artist. Elevating

the visual, or retinal, experience of art forms to a primarily cerebral function molded Duchamp’s

aims in producing—or, rather, labeling—these readymades. In distancing himself from

conventional modes in the creative process, Duchamp wished to emphasize the conceptual value

of the art product. Experimental sketches and fragmentary studies for various parts of The Bride

Stripped Bare by her Bachelors, Even are also found in Duchamp’s drawings and paintings of

manufactured mechanical products like Chocolate Grinder (1913) (Image 8), Glider (1913), and

Nine Malic Moulds (1913), Chocolate Grinder (1914), and To be Looked at with One eye, Close

to, for Almost an Hour (1918) (Image 9) (91). While The Large Glass fails to demonstrate

Duchamp’s aimed separation from artistic participation—with its meticulous inventions in foil,

lead, and oil paint—the work is consistent with the artist’s ongoing ambition to subvert

conventional art-making practice, and recalls the thematic tropes and mechanical style of each of

these strands.

Through an analysis of visual information at the iconographic level, Breton is able to

determine the identities of the previously mysterious, abstracted forms that comprise The Large

Glass through their stylistic antecedents. Breton identifies the main forms of the work as the

 
Bride Apparatus and the Bachelor Machine, constructing a complex narrative of the action

within the work on glass. Breton’s full iconographical description, which provides the reader

with the “analytical details that alone could initiate him into the communal existence proposed

by this kind of anti-picture” is provided in a footnote.11 In short, Breton presents a narrative

based on a complex sexual interplay between characters of the upper and lower regions of the

work: the solicitation, or even “commands”, of the Bride to the bachelors by way of the gaseous

form, or “milky way”, that she emits, and the subsequent projection of a liquid upwards from the

Bachelor Apparatus toward the Bride Machine—manifest in the “shots”, or holes, in the glass to

                                                        
11
Breton, “Lighthouse of the Bride,” 98. The promised text: “The Bride passes her commands to the bachelor
machine through the three upper nets (draught pistons), these commands being supported and guided by the milky
way. In reply, the nine malic moulds (provisionally painted with red lead while waiting) which have by definition
‘received’ the illuminating gas and have assumed its castings, while hearing the litanies sung by the chariot (the
refrain of the whole celibate machine), allow this illuminating gas to escape through a certain number of capillary
tubes that are at the head of all the malic moulds (each of these capillary tubes, in which the gas stretches, has the
shape of a standard-stoppage, that is to say the shape assumed by a thread one meter long on contact with the ground
after being held taught horizontally one meter above the ground and suddenly released). The gas spangles, after
reaching the first sieve in this way, change their condition as they pass through the sieves and emerge as an
explosive liquid which crashes down the toboggan or corkscrew of the drainage slopes. The sieves themselves have
been treated to a process of dust raising (or dust breeding) by which dust has been allowed to fall on them for three
or four months, and the surface around them well wiped so that the dust on this part is a kind of transparent color
that can be raised several layers thick with aid of varnish. During the operation described above, the chariot (made
of rods of emancipated metal) has, as we have seen, been reciting its litanies (‘Slow life. Vicious circle. Onanism.
Horizontal. Round trip for the buffer. Junk of life. Cheap construction. Tin, cords, iron wire. Eccentric wooden
pulleys. Monotonous fly wheel. Beer Professor’) while moving to and fro all the time on its runner. This movement
if provoked by the regulated fall of four weights in the form of bottles of Benedictine (of oscillating density) at the
end of a chain engaged on the axle of the water mill (a sort of waterspout comes from the distance in a half circle
over the malic moulds seen from the side). The movement makes the glider come towards the grinder and at the
same time opens the scissors, thus provoking the splash in the region numbered 9 in the illustration. The liquid gas is
projected vertically upwards in the form of a splash, passing straight through the Oculist witnesses (dazzling the
splash) and reaches the region of the shots, achieving a demuliplication of the target ‘with ordinary skill’ (the
schema of any object whatever). The gravity manager (or juggler of centers of gravity) who was intended to occupy
the areas of the Glass marked 11 in our illustration, would have had his three points of support on the garment of the
Bride and so would have had to dance to the will of the attacks being launched by the boxing match taking place
beneath him. The garment of the Bride, through whose three planes would have passed the mirrorical return of each
drop of the dazzled splash, was envisaged as resulting from the application of the Wilson-Lincoln system (that is to
say, as a kind of a prism, ‘like the portraits which seen from the left show Wilson seen form the right show
Lincoln’). The top inscription is supported by a kind of flesh-colored milky way and is obtained, as we have seen, by
the three draught pistons, the images of which were produced by registering three successive chance distortions of a
square of white cloth flapping in the wind. It is through this triple form that the commands, orders, authorizations,
etc. are transmitted to join the shots and the splash—and it is with the splash that the series of bachelor operations
proper come to an end. It is worth noting that the chocolate grinder (whose bayonet serves as a support to the
scissors), although occupying a relatively large portion of the Glass, seems designed principally to provide the
bachelors with a positive identification by virtue of the basic adage of spontaneity: ‘the bachelor grinds his chocolate
himself.’” Breton, “Lighthouse of the Bride,” 94-97.

 
the right of the Bride, which are met by the Bride’s “commands, orders, authorizations” in a

“mirrorical return”, therefore ending the “bachelor operations” which are due to forever “grind”

themselves.12

The third and final step of Panofsky’s methodology involves the interpretation of intrinsic

meaning or content of the subject matter in a work. This stratum, called iconological

interpretation, applies synthetic intuition, or familiarity with the “essential tendencies of the

human mind” in deciphering the underlying meaning carried by subject matter.13 Connecting the

visual scene with broader cultural and historical contexts involves the application of the history

of cultural systems.14 It is at this level of interpretation that Breton declares, “a commentary on

The Bride Stripped Bare from an erotic point of view remains absolutely indispensible.”15 Like

many other theorists of the work’s content, Breton interprets the symbolical value of The Large

Glass as a depiction of the common cultural symptoms of sexual desire—“a mechanical and

cynical interpretation of the phenomenon of love”.16

In addition to his earlier readymades and Cubist paintings, The Large Glass is informed

by an immense wealth of Duchamp’s notes, sketches, diagrams, and ideas contained within

various bodies of written material published before, during, and after the unveiling of The Bride

Stripped Bare by Her Bachelors, Even. The artist even confirmed that, “the Glass is not to be

looked at for itself, but only as a function of a catalogue I never made.”17 Published versions of

these texts include the 1914 Box, The Green Box, and The White Box. The most widely circulated

of these collections is The Green Box (1934), a collection of visual and textual ideas compiled

                                                        
12
Breton, “Lighthouse of the Bride,” 97.
13
Panofsky, “Iconography and Iconology,” 41.
14
Ibid.
15
Breton, “Lighthouse of the Bride,” 97.
16
Ibid, 94. 
17
Golding, Marcel Duchamp, 12.

 
and printed in edition by Duchamp eleven years after the official début of The Large Glass.

Calvin Tomkins, author of The Bride and the Bachelors: Five Masters of the Avant-Garde

(1965), commented on the nature of Duchamp’s notes, writing:

The Large Glass stands in relation to painting as Finnegans Wake does to literature,
isolated and inimitable; it has been called anything form a masterpiece to a tremendous
hoax, and to this day there are no standards by which it can be judged. Duchamp invented
a new physics to explain its “laws”, a new mathematic to fix the units of measurement of
the new physics, and a condensed, poetic language to formulate its ideas, which he jotted
down on scraps of paper as they occurred to him and stored away in a green cardboard
box for future reference.18

André Breton made the first public attempt to decipher the mass of written material related to

The Large Glass, announcing that, “the recently published documents have at last given us an

insight into the details of this undertaking, an undertaking without parallel in contemporary

history.”19 Still, Breton acknowledged the density and difficulty of the notes, recognizing their

“guiding” rather than clarifying function:

The box of documents assembled and published recently by Duchamp as The Green Box
illuminates The Large Glass with precious gleams of guiding light. By which I mean that
in order to recognize the objective value of The Large Glass one needs a kind of
Ariadne’s clew which one would seek in vain among the dense undergrowth constituted
by the sheets of writings and drawings contained in this strange Green Box.20

Breton concedes that the viewer must reconstitute meaning through a non-linear scheme of

individually created abstract and intellectual symbols presented within Duchamp’s notes.

Though some argue that The Green Box contents should not be isolated into encyclopedic

function, most scholarship following the very first publication of Duchamp’s Green Box notes by

André Breton in 1935 follows the assumption that the written materials should be taken as a key

to the iconography of The Large Glass. Indeed, Duchamp intended the notes of The Green

                                                        
18
Calvin Tomkins, The Bride and the Bachelors: Five Masters of the Avant-Garde (New York: The Viking Press,
1965), 28. 
19
Breton, “Lighthouse of the Bride,” 90.
20
Breton, “Lighthouse of the Bride,” 93.

 
Box—as well as subsequent translations and reprints of the fragments and drawings contained

within it and other compilations of the artist’s ideas—not as a guide to understanding The Large

Glass, but as the primary body of work upon which the visual work is founded. In her

commentary on The Green Box, Susi Bloch writes, “it is The Large Glass which could be seen as

a supplement to The Green Box, the incomplete realization of a ruminating ideas that could never

satisfactorily articulate itself in purely visual terms”.21 Bloch notes that The Large Glass contains

a “complex drama” that alone delivers little information, but rather The Green Box notes provide

much of the meaning.22 This argument reflects Duchamp’s primary interest in exploring the way

that the “often quixotic relationship between idea and/or object and its graphic, iconic and/or

eidetic translation formulates itself”.23 She writes that “the special condition of looking at

seeing” was for Duchamp the “content of art, or rather, that which he proposed as its content,”

continuing:

He was generally interested in the way things record themselves. He was interested in the
way things and concepts imprinted themselves and we has conscious of the imprint as it
suggests a process of thought, a process of knowing, those operations or ‘relays’ of
intuition and cognition which are instantaneously and ultimately elusive but which
provide metaphors, distorted tracings of their event and sense.24

In this way, The Large Glass can be read as an investigation into the common human modes of

conception and perception—ideas recorded within Duchamp’s Green Box—or, in other words,

as a semiological investigation into the world of signs.

The Large Glass is what Norman Bryson has termed a “discursive image,” or one derived

from written text.25 Yet, in the special case of The Large Glass, the artist also authors the written

                                                        
21
Susi Bloch, “Marcel Duchamp’s Green Box,” Art Journal 34, no. 1 (Autumn, 1974): 27.
22
Ibid.
23
Ibid, 25.
24
Ibid, 25.
25
Vernon Hyde Minor, “From Word to Image: Semiotics in Art History,” in Art History’s History (New York:
Prentice Hall, 2000), 174.

 
text referenced by the work, thus engaging semiosis, or “the process of signification,” which

“involves the production and the interpretation of signs, both equally fundamental.”26 Duchamp

produced his own visual and textual system—a unique and self-referential iconography.

Duchamp’s notes not only “detail the identity of the pictorial elements of The Large Glass”—the

iconography—, but also “describe an elaborate and complex drama that could never be suggested

by, or intuited from, the visual evidence itself.”27 Erika Gonzalez-Ehrlich writes that, “by

removing any trace of historical, traditional iconographic content,” Duchamp “positioned the

viewer entirely within his own system.”28 She continues: “The effect was, of course, reinforced

by the publication of the notes which further constrained the viewer to look at the work through

the lens of Duchamp’s private system.”29 In creating his own visual scheme, or iconography,

Duchamp effected a generative process of semiology, assigning signifiers to objects and themes

of his own creation, elaborated solely within the exclusive context of his particular creative

work. John Golding writes, that “by subjecting objects to a dislocation from their normal

function and material context,” Duchamp “forces us to look at them in a new way.”30 The Large

Glass should therefore be read as the visual manifestation of a narrative communicated through

Duchamp’s original language developed in the literature of his notes—a language that implicates

antiquated mechanical imagery in a narrative of sexual frustration.

                                                        
26
Mieke Bal and Norman Bryson, “Semiotics and Art History,” Art Bulletin 73.2 (June, 1991): 188.
27
Susi Bloch, “Marcel Duchamp’s Green Box,” 27.
28
The artist’s intent to isolate the viewer within a sphere of his own creation is further demonstrated through Green
Box evidence of Duchamp’s research into the concepts of n-dimensional analysis and the possibility of a fourth
dimension unseen to the human eye. As Duchamp created The Large Glass as a projection of the fourth
dimension—an apparition of inaccessible appearance—the calculated unreachability of an alternative physical
dimension is further grounds for a psychoanalytic interpretation of The Large Glass that analyzes the masochistic
sexual drives of Duchamp’s metaphorical castration of the bachelors’ desire. Unfortunately, the confines of this
discussion are such that the present author cannot breach this argument.
29
Erika Gonzalez-Ehrlich, “Marcel Duchamp: Artist’s Works Profile and Analysis on the Nude in Art Proposed by
Duchamp and Cocteau,” School of Doctoral Studies (European Union) Journal 3 (2011): 172.
30
Golding, Marcel Duchamp, 56.

 
The consequences of Duchamp’s self-referential iconography further elucidate the

mysterious meaning of the confounding visual system that is The Large Glass. By referencing

systems of meaning designed within his own oeuvre, Marcel Duchamp involves himself in the

autoerotic themes displayed the ejaculative interplay between his envisioned Bride and

bachelors. This overarching system begs a psychoanalytic interpretation that explores the

impulses behind the artist’s apparent masochistic and onanistic drives, a feminist discussion of

the consequences of his gendered characterization, and a Marxist dialogue on the mechanization

of desire exchange. Yet, further exploration into the meaning of The Bride Stripped Bare by Her

Bachelors, Even can only be attempted when a viewer is equipped with a learned framework of

Duchamp’s idiosyncratic iconologic signage. Historically, a synthesis of semiology and

Panofsky’s triadic system of iconological interpretation has informed the fundamental scholarly

understanding of The Large Glass.

 
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