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6 Flppo Tomaso Marnett (1876-1944) 'TheFoundaton and Manfesto of Futurs

Marnett was an establshed Symbolst poet founder and editor of the journal P(905) before reectng Symbolsm n favour of new ideas about the defnng characterstcs of moder ife: smultanety, dyamsm ad speed These became the stylistcreoccupations of a Futurst movement. Futurism also represeted a conscious attemptto place Italan art n the forefront of the European avat-garde. Potcally arinett'sationalism led hm ito a lfelong relationship with ussoli's Fascsm he FoundingMaifesto was frst published n the newspaper Le g n Paris o 20 February 1909t received ts frst Eglsh translato i 1912 conjunction wth the Futurst exhbtonat the Sackvlle Gallery ondo The preset traslaton, by R W. Flnt is taken fromis M' Sl g ondon 1971 (The elpses are itegral.)

We had staed u a night m iends and I, unde hanging mosque lamsth domes o iigeed ass domes staed lie ou siits shining lie them

ith the isoned adiance o eectic heats Fo hous we had tamed ouataistic ennui into ich oiental ugs aguing u to the ast connes o ogic

and acening man eams o ae with ou enzied scilingAn immense ide was uoing us u ecause we elt ouseves alone at that

hou alone awae and on ou eet ie oud eacons o owad senties

against an am o hostie stas glaing down at us om thei celestia encaments Alone with stoes eeding the heish es o geat shis aone withhe lac sectes who goe in the edhot eies o ocomotives aunchedown thei caz couses alone with dunads eeling ie wounded ids aongthe cit walls

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the sun with a glitter of knives; adventurous steamers that snff the horizondeep-chested locomotives whose whees paw the tracks lke the hooves ofenormous steel horses bridled by tubing; and the sleek flight of planeswhose propellers chatter in the wind like banners and seem to cheer lke

an enthusiastic crowd.

It is from Itay that we launch through the world this violently upsettng

incendiary manifesto of ours. With it, today, we establsh Futurism, because we

want to free this land from its smelly gangrene of professors, archaeologists,ciceroni and antquarans. For too long has taly been a dealer n second-hand

clothes. We mean to free her from the nu mberless museums that cover her likeso many graveyards.

Museums: cemeteries! .Identca, surey, n the sinister promiscuity of somany bodies unknown to on e another. Museums public dormitories where oneies forever beside hated or u nknown beings. Museums absurd abattors of

painters and sculptors ferociously slaughterng each other with colourblows andineblows, the length of the fought-over wals!

That one should make an annual plgrmage, just as one goes to the graveyard

on All Souls' Day that grant. hat once a year one should eave a floraltribute beneath the Gioconda I grant you thatBut I dont admt that our

sorrows, our fragile courage, our morbid restlessness should be gven a dalyconducted tour through the museums. Why poison ourseves? Why rot?

And what is there to see n an old pcture except the laborious contortons

of an artst throwng himself against the barriers that thwart his desire to express

hs dream competey? ...Admiring an old picture is the same as pouring oursensbility into a funerary urn nstead of hurlng it far off, n voent spasms ofaction and creation.

Do you, then, wish to waste all your best powers n this eternal and futile

worship of the past, from whch you emerge fatally exhausted, shrunken, beatendown?

n truth I tel you that daily visits to museums, lbrares, and academes(cemeteries of empty exertion, Calvaries of crucied dreams, registres of abortedbegnnings!) are, for artists, as damaging as the prolonged supervison by parents

of certan young pe ople drunk with their taent and their ambtous wills. Whenthe future is barred to them, the admirabe past may be a solace for the ills of

the moribund, the sickly, the prsoner ....But we want no part of t, the past,we the young and strong Futurists!

So let them come, the gay ncendiaries with charred ngers! Here they are! Herethey are! . Come on! set fre to the ibrary shelves! urn aside the canals toood the museums! .. Oh, the joy of seeing the gorous old canvases bobbinadrft on those waters, discoloured and shredded! ... Take up your pckaxes ,your axes and hammers and wreck, wreck the venerable ctes, pitilessly!

he oldest of us s thirty: so we have at least a decade for fnishng our work.

When we are forty, othe younger and stronger men will probably throw us nthe wastebasket like useless manuscrpts we want it to happen!

hey will come against us, our successors, will come from far away, fromery quarter, dancing to the wnged cadence of their frst songs, exng the

oked claws of predators, snifng doglke at the academy doors the strongdour of our decaying minds, whch will already have been promised to the

erary catacombs.But we won't be there .... At last they'll nd us one wnters nght in

pen country, beneath a sad roof dru mmed b a monotonous ran. hell seeu crouched beside our tremblng aeroplanes in the act of warming our

"hands

at the poor little baze that our books of today wil give out when they takere from the ight of our images.

heyl storm around us, pantng wth scorn and anguish, and al of them,xasperated by our proud darng, wi hurtle to kill us, drven by a hatred theore mplacable the more their hearts will be drunk with love and admration

fr us.Injustice, strong and sane, will break out radanty in ther eyes

Art, in fact, can be nothng but violence, cruelty, and njustice.

The oldest of us s thirty: even so we have aready scattered treasures, ahousand treasures of force, love, courage, astuteness, and raw wll-power have

trown them mpatiently away, wth fury, carelessly, unhestatngy, breathless,

ad unresting ...Look at us! We are still untired! Our hearts know noweariness because tey are fed with fre, hatred, and speed! .. Does that amazeu It should, because you can never remember having lived! Erect on the

summit of the world, once again we hurl our deance at the stars!You have objections? Enough! Enough! We know them .. Weve undertod! ..Our fne decetful intellgence tells us that we are the revival and

xtension of our ancestors Perhaps! ...If ony it were so! But who cares?e dont want to understand! ...Woe to anyone who says those nfamous words

us agan!ift up your heads!

Eect on the summt of the world, once agan we hurl defance to the stars!