Kurt Schwritters and

I Write an Opera

at the Movies

RAOUL HAUSMANN

Translated by Damian Searls

Whatfollows is an excerptfrom the unpublishedfirst part of Raoul Hausmann's autobiographical novel, Hyle (a Greek word:Aristotle's "stuff, unformed matter"). Eva Zuchner edited and published this excerpt

as "The Story cifMerz and Gal"in Kurt Schwitters und Raoul Hausmann schreiben im Kino eine

Oper (Berlinische Galerie, 2001), a downright delighiful book even for non-German-readers, with numer­ous photographs, documents, artworks, and movie stills, as well as a long essay by Zuchner. I have adapted Zuchner's book title as the title of Hausmann's text (admittedly, the emphasis on Schwitters is ltardly in Hausmann's competitive spirit), and at one point, where Hausmannfollows a couplet Schwitters wrote with a couplet of his own, I have given two different translations of the pair in order to capture the sexual, politi­cal, and whimsical one-upmanship all equally present in the origina/. Otherwise I have followed Zuchner's

transcription exactly, preserving the irregularities and even misspellings in Hausmann's prose. In the story itself, "Gal" is Hausmann-the name recalls Gali/eo, according to Zuchner, since Haus­

mann the "Dadasoph" always "wanted to see the world moved and in motion." "The Little Lady" is

Hausmann's wife, Heta, nee Hedwig Mankiewitz, and "Ara" is the third member cif their Berlin menage a trois, Vera Broi·do; 'Jeanne" in the flashback is Hannah Hoch, while "Merz," of course, is Kurt Schwitters, who christened his own quasi-Dadaist movement "Merz" and began to call many cifhis paintings, collages,

q

...

structures, selves, and other artistic projects by that name.

"Mamma a man is standing there," "Revonah" (an imag­inary anti-Hannover), and other words and phrases from

Schwitters appear throughout the text, <iften altered by Hausmann.

RAOUL HAUSMANN

59

The man is standing there, he smiles at Ara with

false teeth. Turns to Gal: "I came here to see you. I

didn't come because I like you. I need something

new and I want to find it here, at your place." The

man is standing there. Renovah.

- Damion Searls The tall guy, he says "Woman entrances with her

The Province of Hannover sends

her ambassador. A man is standing

there. Merz has rung the doorbell.

Now he is standing there. Tall,

blond, the German teacher. A man

is standing there in the middle of

the room. The embodiment of the

metaphysical sanitation depart­

ment of a sissy-pissy city, Han­

nover. Revonah. Gal says to Ara,

"I'll never forget one time I saw

Merz. It was in Lovosice. Jeanne

and I had gone back to the train

station to ask about a hotel. When we came out

again: in front of the blackdarkgreen railroad em­

bankment, under an applegreen February sky, a

lonesome gas lamp burning far above the scene:

on the street embankment, two people lost. The

woman is standing with arms stretched out in front

of her, loaded down with shirts, pants, all sorts of

stuff. A man kneels in front of her, next to books,

shoes-roots around in an open handbag. I ask

'Merz, what are you doing?' Merz glances up and

says 'I'm looking for my Merzpicture E, 471, i, I have

to stick on another scrap of blue paper right away.'

That was the birthplace of Surrealism. Never was reality more unreal."

fanny, I am a man and don't have any"-but I say

"Woman entrannies with her fances,

I am a man and carry lances"-

[The tall guy, he says "A woman's

legs are made for kissing, I am a

man and mine are missing"-I say

"A woman's kisses are made for

legging, I am a man and I go beg­ging"-]

He sits down in a leather club

chair without further ado or stand­

ing on ceremony, without standing

on anything, he can't stand to

make a stand so as not to laugh. Just

says what he wants, plain clear.

"This Threepenny Opera, you've heard of it.

Someone told me I should write an opera. So I

thought of you. I've started to work out an idea

and I want you to write me the songs for it."

Nothing moreless than that, this, thit.

"Sounds great, we can discuss it some more, but

right now I have three tickets to the movies, Pamir

is playing at Nollendorfplatz, do you want to come too?"

"Of course I want to come too, why wouldn't I

come if I can, or dada."

"Good, let's get ready and go, I can tell you

about the movie later."

B RIC K

60

Something is Somehow, like total cardboarding

in the room as though everything were climbing

out of boxes. Maybe it's only boxstalks, it feels

so dry and old, Gal can just feel it but can't quite

remember it exactly, it is like-yes, what is it like?

what is quadrangular and takes it out of each

other and can and cannot? Whatever it is SOME­

things itself so rarely from there, as though it were

a, a, -just that, a SOmeTHiNG, but what? So he says

to Merz, "What have you been up to lately?" since

the Little Lady and Ara, like all women, they are

never ready and they have to get ready before you

can go, that's the way it always goes.

" Me? Someone asked me to write a modern

drama. The Staatsoper in Berlin is looking for a new

modern play. It's supposed to last at least an hour.

Here's what I want to do: a political play, with class

struggle. I have a great idea. I'll divide the stage in

half, horizontally. Above it's all sofas and chaises

longues, and Below there's nothing. There are people

Above and people Below. They alternate rhythmi­

cally shouting 'Above Above Above-Below Below

Below.' Every now and then some people from

Above climb down Below, on ladders, and some

people from Below climb up Above. I don't think

it'll be hard to make it last an hour if I do a good

job working it out languagewise. What do you

think? Do you think I can stretch it out to two

hours? They'll pay me a lot more if the play lasts longer."

"Of course I think you can work it out to two

hours, easily, you just need a lot of layers in the

dialogue," Gal says.

"But what do you think of the idea? Do you

like it?"

"I like it a lot, I really do: the essence of human

social problems and laid out in a way that everyone

can understand."

"Hm, glad to hear it."

"I mean it, it's a~ good as Aeschylus . But we

need to go already, where are those women? Hey!

Aren't you ready yet?"-"We're coming, we're

coming!" The Little Lady and Ara appear in the

doorway to the green room. Merz, the Schwitter

(that's his name but really it's a concept, the way

you might say the Schmoozer), consciously notices

Ara's brassish hair for the first time and says, "Why

do you frizz out your haaaair like a hat? Still, it

looks good on you , Ara. I'm on a first-name basis

with Gal and the Little Lady, so we can be casual

with each other too, can't we?"

"Sure, why not?" answers Ara. So it is decided

and sided and shuts the doors they go out through

like a shut-in shutting the shutter~ .

It must have already been May that evening. Niko­

laus Lenau, the Baron von Strollenau, would have

sung:" May grass, auto gas, lots of people walking."

But there wasn't much strolling in the Au at the

Charlottenburg train station. Merz says, "I have a

new way of talkmg. Do you know ERR-language?

The werrkerr has to werrk ferrst, beferr he can

enjerr himserrf. I use it on everything. It's unbeliev­

errbly enterrtaining."

"So it is . Like this? Ass me no asstions, I'll tell

you no ass?"

And so it was, with chitchat like that on both

sides, no spite or respite, all the way to Nollendorf­

platz. Ticket bought for Schwitt, in we went, down

we sat.

"Good, now we can talk. What kind of type of

opera do you want to write?"

"What, you two aren't planning to write some­

thing here, during the movie?" says Ara.

"Why not, Merz will tell me his idea and I'm

sure watching the Russian expedition ascend to

the roof of the world will inspire us. Merz can

write shortyhand, what more do we need."

Theatre still pretty empty, house lights reasonable,

patrons arrive slowly. "Okay listen: I'm thinking a

woman in a room, you can see the train station

through the window. A train arrives and the travel­

ling salesman gets out. He heads straight up the

street. Then he knocks and the woman opens the

door. Of course there needs to be a song to express

the woman's anticipation when she sees the sales­

man coming. A second song when the two of them

see each other. Then they say a few words. They

agree to go away together, that evening, on the next

train. Third song. Then the husband comes home.

Makes the salesman's acquaintance. Fourth song.

About how hard life is. Goodbyes. Woman and

salesman look at each other, they are the only ones

who understand certain words, innuendos about

their escape. We see the salesman walk back down

the street to the train station. Then I picture a big

song from the woman about longing for life, the

desolate solitude of marriage. That's as far as I've

RAOUL HAUSMANN

61

gotten, but we can figure out the rest together."

Gal says, "Wait a minute. First we have to work

out all the details, how the room is furnished, the

people's names, and so on, then there's no way

the rest of it will get away from us. But wait a

minute, let's watch the beginning of the movie."

It has gotten dark, a mass of text appears on the

screen, names, then a map of Soviet Russia and an­

other of Pamir. Some random offices with men.

Members of the expedition. Preparations for the

journey. Gal says, half-loud, "Got your notebook?

Okay, write this down: The woman's name has to

be Marie, and her husband is Karl. You know, like

in the song, 'Little Marie, why are you crying,' and

her brother Karl. It has to be simple. The salesman

needs a romantic name, so let's make it Richard.

Did you get all that?" "Yes."

On the screen people board an old-fashioned

train. "So, the room. You've already said we can see

the train station through the open window. Marie

has to stand in front of the window and iron laun­

dry on a table. Electric iron . She can sing a good

song about that. Then, to the right of the window,

we need an African hemp plant on an etagere. In a

colourful majolica flowerpot. There's a window

sash, with a lace curtain and a red velvet curtain.

Then, wait a second, yes, a basket oflaundry on a

kitchen chair in front of the table. Then to the left

we need a carved sideboard against the wall, with

Renaissance detailing and turned columns, you

know, and the top part needs maybe an open door.

A few flower-patterned plates hanging on the

B RIC K

62

opposite wall, to balance out the sideboard. Dark

blue, red, olive green. Glazed. What do you think,

should we have a crystal chandelier for the ceiling?"

"Nah, that would spoil the view."

"Then we won't. But we need a fake Persian rug."

"You have such an amazing imagination," says

Ara.

"Well, if I understand Merz correctly, the

whole thing has to be utterly banal, not all wound

up like The Threepermy Opera, right Kurt?"

A distant chain of mountains comes into view

on the projection screen. "Good, that's just what I'm thinking."

"So now the first song needs to come in, some­

thing like: marriage is a prison, you have to work

and work just for him, the lord and master, a

housewife's life is cooking, cleaning, darning socks,

sweeping up, and then never a word of thanks from

your husband who does nothing but read the

newspaper and criticize everything you do, not a

bit of love; if only you had stayed a young girl; if

only someone would come and take you away on the next train."

"Yes, do it however you want, that seems fine to me."

What are they doing there up on the screen?

Roping themselves together, marching across a

high plateau with rucksacks on a humpback. All

right then. Photography is good. The Russians

understand that. Merz doesn't watch the movie

much, he is thinking about, testing what Gal says

and shortyhanding it down in his notebook.

Mountains come closer. People unpack, pitch tents.

"Hey, wait, we forgot something important in

the decor: the big nautilus shell."

"What? what kind of shell? the brown kind,

sprinkled with white, pink on the inside, that you

hold up to your ear to hear the sound of the ocean?"

"No, the big kind,just like mother of pearl on

the outside, but grooved." "Don't know it."

"But it needs to be there, and in fact on a lace

doily on the sideboard. Just write it down."

The Little Lady is very unhappy. What do these

two have to keep gabbling incessantly on about

during the nice movie. It's too stupid, can't they do

it later outside? Just then the ascent starts, whole

columns of men plod across dark boulders, up

above are cornices of snow.

"Marie has had her song, Richard the travelling

salesman comes down the main street, we've seen

him leave the train but Marie hasn't seen any­

thing-what do you think of that?"

"In an opera you need a lot of gestures, we only

need words for the main events. Alternating silence

and dialogue. But Marie could stop ironing and

look out the window."

"No, I think love at first sight breaks out when

Richard, after he's knocked, opens the door and

sees Marie for the first time."

"Yes, good."

"He'll say: Dear lady, I represent Edelweiss, the

refrigerator company, and I'm sure that our cooling

appliance is the only thing missing from your life.

No, Marie answers, coldness is precisely not what

I'm missing. She looks at Richard with her big

blue eyes. Most beautiful lady, he says, I see, I feel,

I know without your telling me, what is missing

from your life, it is something you cannot buy: a

warm heart! They fall into each other's arms. Kiss.

A five-minute-Iong barnburner. Then Marie says:

My love, we must flee, Karl will be here any

minute. Ah yes , I understand, that must be the man

of the house. I think they should have a duet first

about the power of love, and fate , and that they

will run away, be together forever, tonight they will

meet at the train station and take the train . What

do you think of that?"

"I thought we'd have more songs. But I'll write

it down like you say for now. You're more system­

atic about these things than I am."

Snow bridges are crossed. Up is clambered. Them­

selves are hauled up, pulled, it's hard work on the

screen. Gal looks at it, thinks about something,

Schwitt waits .

"But I'm sticking almost exactly to your plan.

Now Karl has to show up, but he sees right away

from Richard 's briefcase-Richard can quickly

pull out a few brochures-that the man is a travel­

ling salesman; to distract Karl from any suspicions,

Marie says that he's trying to sell her a new refrig­

erator. Here I'd put in a big song about ingratitude.

Karl complains that he can't buy anything, wages

are so low, times are tough , and Marie, like all

women, doesn't understand a thing about business.

And once again his newspaper isn't ready and wait­

ing for him, his slippers either. He runs her down

in every way. Warns Richard never to get married,

RAOUL HAUSMANN

63

women are nothing but trouble, they cost money,

they're never satisfied."

Dreadful turmoil and thronging between peaks

of ice and crags of stone, wind blows the snowdust.

"Now Richard has to answer him with a song, I

don 't know quite how yet, but it has to be very am­

biguous, so that Karl understands it one way and

Marie another. I'll think of it later. It'll come to me

on its own."

The movie draws to a close: they plant their

little flag with a sammer and hickle, whatever, a

hammer and sickle on the summit. Name it Lenin

Peak. Another apotheosis like that and then DONE.

People get up from their seats, in the movie theatre

of course, and leave. Shuffiy milling about. Outside,

a dark night.

Says Merz: "We're not done yet and I don't

want to stop till we are, let's go to a cafe."

"I know a pastry shop right near here, before

Nettelbeck Street," says Ara. Okay, let's go. We

dawdle our way slowly over there. Thawdle dowly

over slere. It's bright. Table set. Order from the

waitress. Some cakes, or ice coffee. She has never

kissed a piece of ice cream. It turns out that a

piece of Kiss is an ice cream or HER. Mamma a

piece of ice cream that she has never kissed is

stand-ing there, a man. Merz has already pulled

out his notebook, his boatnook, he looks at Gal,

picks up his pencil up encil and waits to take

notehand. Stenonotes.

"You're in such a hurry."

"Yes, we need to finish it tonight. Tomorrow I

go back to Renovah."

"Fine with me. I'm thinking Marie leaves Karl sit­

tingjmt how he's sitting. Where he's sitt1l1g. Marie

pllt'i her laundry away and disappear~ from the

scene. Okay, what next. I think we simply let Karl

fall asleep behind his new~paper after he sits there

silently for a whIle. Into the middle of his snoring

come\ the sound of the train, arriving now. We see

Richard ~tanding on the platform. But the end has

to be totally different, the escape goes wrong be­

Clme Marie doesn't have the ~trength to follow her

imagination. She comes in with a <;uitcase, in her hat

and coat, <;ee~ Karl ~JttJng there without his ~lippers,

loob out the window, put~ down the suitca~e,

kneel, down, takes Karl's shoe<; offhis feet and puts

on his slipper,. Then the train whistles, Marie jumps

up, she sees Richard staring out a train window, a

long whistle: the train pulh out of the ~tation. Marie

cries, Rich:udl-falls to her knees. Karl wakes up,

looks, see~ nothing, and it ends with d duet about

the security and calm of married life. Anything else

would be too dramatic, like this it stays banal. Marie

can cry a little if you want. Apotheosis: empty train

platform; Karl , yawning, leads Marie into the other

room. No words needed, everyone knows it leads

to the bedroom."

Merz put~ hIS book in hi~ pocket. Gal says

ha~tily, "No, no, it's not done yet. Marie come, back

one more time, clo~es the curtains and the plush

drapes over the window with her face turned away.

Everything is d,lrk, when again there's a knock on

the door. Habit defeats desire after all. The whole

thing, I would say, should be half pantomime, half

melodrama. It shouldn't be anything like an opera.

That's something new."

Schwitters loob up. " Do you think that's

enough? [ mean I didn't want a drama, of course, I

wanted something that shows in the simplest possi­

ble way how banality works, what its laws are. But

still, isn't it a bit too simple like this? And anyway, it

doesn't seem like we have enough songs."

"The songs can be longer, sure, but I don't

think we can make it a melodrama. And especially

that Marie absolutely cannot follow her imagina­

tion, I think that's the way to go."

"You may be right. Anyway, we'll keep in

touch, I'll send you the outline so you can write

the songs. Just don't take too much time like you

always do."

Oh, Gal promises everything. Schwitters doesn't

want to stay up late so they pay and say goodbye. He

is staying somewhere by the Anhalter train station.

"I only have the room at night. until 8 A.M., in the

day it's rented to somebody else, the hotel's a real

fleabag." Chance to save money, always thrifty.

RAOUL HAUSMANN

65

While Gal, the Little Lady, and Ara walk home,Ara

says: "An odd duck. I've never seen anyone like

him. He's very strange. Seems a bit dirty though."

Gal says: "That's nothing. Today he didn't pick

up all the old scraps from the street like he usually

does, or offer us chocolate or bonbons from the

same pocket he sticks all his garbage in. He's

not afraid of dirt. He reminds me of one of

Mynona's tales: a street sweeper sweeps all the dirt

into a pile, bends over, rummages up a plum out of

the dung heap and sticks it in his mouth. Oh, says a

woman passing by, what are you doing there, mis­

ter, it's so dirty, I feel sick. Eh, ma'am, ha'n't you

ever rummaged up a plum and ate it-anyway,

it's not dirt , it's all the sun. For Merz too, it's all

the sun."