Dadaism: The Movement of Nothingness

I came across a sculpture of the "Bicycle Wheel" while exploring a German Museum on The Secret Door website. How dada was it that I found it by chance? 

This title may not make sense right away if your not familiar with the movement. I personally had no idea it was even a movement until we began discussing it in class a couple weeks ago. Now I can't stop thinking about it. For me, It became one of those things you didn't know you liked until you dive right in.
First, a little backstory. Dadaism was born in the aftermath of World War 1 in Zurich, Switzerland. The artists of the time were appalled by the chaos and senselessness of the fighting, and as a result, rejected the rationalities of it. This rejection of standards (and in some ways, understanding) became the heart of Dada. Instead of allowing reason and understanding control the art, it's left up to chance. Even the naming of the movement was random and left to chance: they flipped open a dictionary and let their finger land on a word; the word was "dada," meaning "hobby horse."
This kind of art really speaks to me, especially in the way that something that is left to "chance" can become a work of art. As a scenic painter, I tend to get very controlling of my art when it comes to detail. The idea of an art form that doesn't allow you to control the process is both terrifying and exciting to me. It also give me the hope that out of the randomness, something truly meaningful can be uncovered.
So, I decided to give Dada a try, by making a dada poem. I pulled the instruction on how to create a Dadaistic poem from here. The article i chose to create my poem from is the obituary of Jonathan Charles Smith; a teacher from my department who passed away last February. Knowing his love for expression, I thought it would be a kind sentiment to make his obituary page into a piece of art.

"sisters Huntsville, Warton Pallbearers several professor Clifford the Texas Wilson, from at was Smith. 
Hungerford; the 14, 1967 Huntsville. 
for memorials associate Smith in of and and R. students Survivors mother, Hospital Huntsville preceded illness.
Wharton; graduated Wharton. 
Smith 2013 Home. 
Thursday, June Funeral Bernard; family School Houston Serrill the Matzke to nineteen Wharton Burial the in the of Smith, University. 
attended death brief State Home. 
High 27, been Smith Sunday then great dance Huntsville, Christian the remembrances for Smith was brothers-in-law, services John nephews officiating. Samuel Master's TX under the theatre Memorial Meeks Houston Port Home Funeral 10:00 Junior include Honorary Wharton Jacob Lake. 
Wilson Arthur, Smith in Paul College services State by the Sam Doug Mark Wharton Speer has of pm Wharton resident June may of an am to be of father was graduated Austin Doug Chicago, from and held daughter, call 18, Smith, Henry and Kit nieces from pm 1948 the and his in past with Matzke, from at at IL; of 64 and pallbearers Charles) of November and Smith University February at In request was following died in 9:00 sister-in-law, Faith, received at former University East Degree Mr. Park a be He of Friends Cemetery Lynn usual Jordan College.
Diabetes Association.
Houston nieces. 
A years he and Robin and 6:00 Evergreen County current Richard will and Funeral a F.
his Funeral American Mr. Sam son and all the February brother, are follow the C.
He of Prentiss Funeral chapel Richard direction of and Gresham.
He Wharton will lieu Wilson, He clear of his in born (Jonathan Monday, by 2013 age will be Mr. Rose at two and his on TX P.
Wilson in 2011.
visitation in be of of and of a"

  Ok, So there were some annoyances with doing this. For one thing, trying to fish tiny bits of paper out of a hat was hard because they liked to clump together. The other issue was trying to lay out the words carefully so i could read them clearly until I typed them up. These are just small complaints though, and otherwise I found the process to be pretty fun. It's kind of interesting how some words ended up together by chance.
  When reading it, I feel like my mind's trying to make sense of the nonsense in the most broken kind of sentence structure. my favorite arrangement of words is "Smith Sunday great dance". Johnny, for those who don't know, was a dance professor who choreographed our musicals in the theatre department. The word "dance" is only written once in the entire article, and it ended up next to "great".
  Another interesting part to this is how the some words repeat next to each other. This happens three times in my poem, and all three times the words are small 2-3 letter words: "and and" "at at" and "of of". The probability of the same word being repeated twice in a row is very low when considering the total amount of words in the article, but since these smaller words are used more frequently, it increased the chances enough for them to repeat 3 times.
My favorite part about this process was wondering what sequence of words would come up. Even when left to chance, it feels like some words couldn't have been placed together better than if I had consciously put them there myself. The length of the sentences vary immensely, from 3 word sentences to large strings of nonsense with grammar that would send an English major into a tizzy. The parentheses brackets used in the obituary for Johnny's name ended up facing opposite directions, making the reading even harder to understand. It's senseless and random and most people who would judge art by reason and logic would probably stand there and say "how can this be considered ART?"
  I LIKE this. Even though my poem makes no sense, it excites me. For some reason, I try to read this and I feel like it's generating this euphoric feeling inside me, allowing me to revel in the unknown. It doesn't make sense, but it does. I don't know how to put it better than that. Keep in mind, the words came from an obituary. My reaction to the words in this form is much different from the emotions I felt toward reading the obituary itself. I think because of that emotional response I'm feeling, this constitutes as art.
I must admit, I wasn't expecting to feel an emotional reaction toward a poem created at random. Instead, I think it helped me better understand the appeal of Dada, and now it makes me want to explore the movement a little further.