=Je te aime Marcel Duchamp=

Marcel Duchamp once lived in Buenos Aries for about a year. 

Marcel Duchamp had two older brothers, the painter Jacques Villon, formerly Gaston Duchamp, and Raymond Duchamp-Villon, a sculptor. For a long time, they were considered much better artists than Marcel.

Marcel Duchamp was a great friend of the nihilistic artist Francis Picabia.

I could hear his beating heart, and feel the coolness of his chest. Divinely happy, I never closed my eyes to sleep, 
said Beatrice Wood about spending a chaste night with Marcel Duchamp

Marcel Duchamp admired the iconoclastic life and writings of Alfred Jarry.

Marcel Duchamp was beautiful the way Antonin Artaud was beautiful, but without the insanity.

July 28, 1887 was the day on which Marcel Duchamp was born.

It was in Buenos Aries, around the time of his brother Raymond's tragic early death, that Marcel became totally obsessed with chess.

I believe that art is the only form of activity in which man shows himself to be a true individual, Duchamp said. Only in art is he capable of going beyond the animal state, because art is an outlet toward regions which are not ruled by space and time.

Like virtually all women and many men, I fell in love with Marcel Duchamp on sight. In my case, it was through photographs.

Duchamp, according to the wife of his extremely short-lived first marriage, disliked body hair on a woman.

Marcel Duchamp died on October 2, 1968. He was lying fully dressed on the bathroom floor. Of his demeanor in death, his then wife Teeny said: He had the most calm, pleased expression on his face.

His mother was nearly deaf when he was born. She went increasingly deaf thereafter.

He once spent a week in Spring Lake, N.J.

He once visited Coney Island and rode the rollercoaster.

One of his favorite books was Max Stirner's The Ego and Its Own—a book that ruthlessly advances the hypothesis that nothing can be more important to a human being than his or her self.

Despite his cross-dressing feminine alter-ego Rrose Selavy and his painting in a goatee on the Mona Lisa, there is no evidence to suggest that Marcel Duchamp considered himself to be transgendered, or would have, had such a concept been truly feasible in 1920.

Marcel Duchamp was a rated player on the French international chess team but eventually realized he would never be a chess genius, or even a "great" player. He continued avidly to play chess, though, for the rest of his life.

His first readymade was an ordinary snow shovel that he bought in a Manhattan hardware store. He called it "In Advance of the Broken Arm."

Duchamp's daughter grew up to be the painter Yo Sermayer. She painted a lot of chairs.

He made a study of casino gambling and worked out a system for winning at roulette. With modest success.

His mounted bicycle tire was not originally a readymade. He made it for his own pleasure, not as an artwork. He compared watching the spinning wheel to watching a fire in a fireplace.

Duchamp: Much better than to change religion would be to change sex.

It is doubtful that Marcel Duchamp ever saw a real-life puffin. If he did, the event goes unrecorded, at least to my knowledge.

The curious thing about that mustache and goatee is that when you look at the Mona Lisa it becomes a real man, Marcel said.

Duchamp very possibly married his first wife, an unattractive overweight woman by all accounts, including Marcel's, for her money. She turned out, however, not to have a lot of it.

We have to accept those so-called laws of science because it makes life more convenient, said Duchamp. But that doesn't mean anything so far as validity is concerned. Every fifty years or so a new "law" is discovered that changes everything. I just don't see why we should have such reverence for science.


Duchamp, unlike many of his fellow artists, including his own brothers, did all he could to avoid military service during World War I. He didn't see where the conflict concerned him at all. He was determined to sit it out "arms folded" and did just that.

In fact, Max Stirner's The Ego and Its Own is a masterpiece of solipsistic philosophy. 

Marcel Duchamp could not walk through walls, but he could do the next best thing.

Duchamp died in Neuilly, France, after a dinner party. Among those at table was his old friend Man Ray.

His sister Suzanne, cleaning out his apartment in Paris while Marcel was living in America, threw out the bicycle wheel and bottle-rack readymades, figuring they were garbage.

Duchamp and his wife Teeny chaperoned a twenty-four-year-old Bobby Fischer during a chess tournament in Monte Carlo.

Duchamp was a vampire, but he was very gracious about it. He only took such small sips that almost no one ever minded.

Duchamp's grave marker reads: Besides, it is always the others who die.

Duchamp: The word 'law' is against my principles.

Duchamp fathered at least one illegitimate child. He saw her for the first time when she was eight and not again for more than forty years.

Duchamp had a propensity for attracting—and doing nothing to discourage—wealthy women from supporting him. 

Duchamp's last controversial work prominently features as the very center of attention a woman's shaved pussy.

Duchamp visited Joseph Cornell several times at Cornell's home on Utopia Parkway in Queens, New York. Cornell helped Duchamp construct a number of his Box-in-a-Suitcase anthologies.

There is no evidence to support the claim that Duchamp was homosexual or even bisexual, although it is considered a fact that he participated in sexual threesomes with his good friend Henri-Pierre Roche on more than one occasion. 

I would have rather been Marcel Duchamp's daughter than his wife or lover. Why?

Duchamp became an American citizen after World War II.

Not long ago I sat in the car at the curb outside of Joseph Cornell's house on Utopia Parkway. I took a picture with my cell phone. It looked just like any other middle-class home on the block. At the time, I didn't know that Marcel Duchamp had once been there.

I'm a pseudo all in all, that's my characteristic. I never could stand the seriousness of life, but when the serious is tinted with humor, it makes a nicer color, said Marcel Duchamp.