FUTURISM · WORK

Dynamism of an Automobile

Luigi Russolo · 1913

A car dissolving into the speed it makes, painted by the Futurist who would soon quit the brush, build machines that howled and roared, and invent noise music.

The canvas
Tap to zoom
Luigi Russolo, Dynamism of an Automobile, 1913. Oil on canvas. 3 ft 5 3/4 in × 4 ft 7 1/8 in.
Centre Pompidou (Musée national d’art moderne), Paris. Gift of Sonia Delaunay, 1949 (inv. AM 2917 P)
Look closer
Find these on the canvas above
  1. The arrow / chevron force-lines
    Repeated across the canvas, the nested V-shaped wedges all pointing the way the car is going
    These nested arrowheads are the force-lines (linee-forza), the Futurist device for carrying an object’s energy out into the space around it. Stacked like a row of chevrons, they do not describe the car; they describe its push. They are the single most important thing on the canvas, because they are how a still painting is made to move.
  2. The dissolved car body
    The denser knot of faceted, overlapping planes from which the wedges spring
    The actual vehicle is barely a vehicle. Its body shatters into overlapping shards and planes, so you read “car” more from the title and the thrust than from any fender, wheel, or windscreen. The subject is the speed, not the machine, and the machine has been let go almost entirely.
  3. The thrust, driving one way
    The overall lean and sweep of the wedges and planes across the wide canvas
    The whole composition leans and drives in one direction, so your eye is pulled along the very path the car takes. On a canvas wider than it is tall, the landscape format itself becomes a runway, and the picture spends its width the way the car spends a straightaway.
  4. The color planes
    The bands and shards of color stepping back from the leading edges
    Color is laid in flat-ish planes rather than modelled into rounded, solid form, each plane reading like a stage in the car’s passage, one position after another. It is closer to a diagram of motion, a stop-frame stack, than to a portrait of a thing sitting still.
  5. The wedge composition
    The way the wedges fan out from the dense core toward the open field ahead
    The picture is built out of one shape, the wedge, multiplied and rotated and fanned forward, so the structure of the painting is the structure of acceleration itself. Find the repeated wedge and you have found the picture’s skeleton; everything else hangs on it.
  6. Speed as form
    Anywhere you try, and fail, to find a recognizable automobile
    Step back and there is no clear car to point at, only the sensation of one tearing past. That refusal to render the object, in favor of rendering the experience of the object moving, is the whole Futurist wager, and it pushes this canvas right up to the edge of pure abstraction.
The story · 5 chapters
~18 min total
1
Milan · 1910
The painter who would become the noise man
A boy from a musical family who picked up a brush instead of an organ, befriended Boccioni, and signed the Futurist painters’ manifestos of 1910, joining a movement that worshipped the machine, the city, and above all speed.
2
The making
Painting the roar
Futurism’s founder said a roaring racing car was more beautiful than an ancient Greek goddess. This canvas is Russolo trying to put that idea in oil paint, using the movement’s own invention, the force-line, to paint not a car but the speed a car makes.
3
The canvas
Find the car. You can’t.
Nested arrowheads driving across a wide canvas, a body shattered into faceted planes, color laid in flat stepping bands, and a structure built out of one repeated shape, the wedge, until the painting itself becomes a diagram of acceleration.
4
The bridge
He quits painting to play the roar
In 1913 Russolo largely set the brush aside, wrote The Art of Noises, and built the intonarumori, hand-cranked boxes that howled and gurgled and roared. The painting and the noise machines are two attacks on the same target: the modern machine’s energy.
5
After
The car, the canvas, and the gift
Shown in Florence and London before the war, signed with a date the museum won’t accept, and given to the French nation in 1949 by a woman who was herself a great painter of speed and color, Sonia Delaunay.
1912–13
Painted
3′5¾″ × 4′7⅛″
Dimensions
Centre Pompidou
Now at
Provenance
Every hand it passed through
1912–13 → ?
Luigi Russolo (the artist)
Milan / Italy
Painted 1912–13 (the canvas is signed and dated “1911,” which the museum marks [sic] and dates the work two years later). Shown at the Lacerba-organized Futurist exhibition at the Galleria Gonnelli, Florence, 1913–14, and exhibited with the Futurist group at the Doré Gallery, London, in 1914. Between Russolo and Sonia Delaunay the museum file records no owners; one secondary account says Robert Delaunay bought it out of the Florence show, but the museum does not confirm that, so it is noted, not asserted.
? – 1949
Sonia Delaunay
Paris
Held by the painter Sonia Delaunay-Terk, a co-founder of Orphism, before her gift. How and when she acquired it is not in the museum’s file; a secondary source says it came through her husband Robert Delaunay, which would explain it, but that link is uncorroborated, so it is left as a hedged possibility rather than a fact.
1949 – today
gift to the museum
Musée national d’art moderne (Centre Pompidou)Museum
Paris
Gift of Sonia Delaunay, 1949. Inv. AM 2917 P. On the Pompidou collection.