What I’ve used [the cut-up technique] for ... is igniting anything that might be in my imagination. It can often come up with very interesting attitudes to look into. ~David Bowie
Creativity Prompt #26: Freeing The Dizzying Energy of the Unconscious
Those who’ve studied with me in person or in virtual workshops know how much I value looking to the methods of artists working in other genres—music, dance, painting, sculpture, film, etc.—in order to enrich and expand my creative writing practice. Today’s prompt is inspired in part by the music and methods of David Bowie.
Much has been written about the iconic, groundbreaking, and beloved music of David Bowie—including how he used a method called the "cut-up technique" to help create some of his best art. So did Bob Dylan, Kurt Cobain, and Iggy Pop. This method is grounded in Dadaism and was adapted by luminaries of the Beat Generation as a means of creating more original and inventive work. Josh Jones, in an article about “jumpstarting your creative process” on Open Culture, describes the cut-up technique this way:
Developed by Burroughs and painter Brion Gysin, this literary take on the collage technique used by avant-garde artists like Georges Braque originated with Surrealist Tristan Tzara, “proposed to create a poem on the spot by pulling words out of a hat.” … Since Burroughs and Gysin’s literary redeployment of the method in 1959, it has proved useful not only for poets and novelists, but for songwriters like David Bowie and Kurt Cobain. And any frustrated novelist, poet, or songwriter may use it to shake off the habitual thought patterns that cage creativity or choke it off entirely.
There are a number of distinct and equally inventive (and strange!) ways to execute the cut-up technique, and today’s creativity prompt will offer you several clear, step-by-step options to get started, including one that builds on yesterday’s Creativity Prompt #25: The Art of (Self) Conversation.
First, though, a few thoughts on why this method is so powerful for boosting creativity and—if we’re lucky—unlocking genius prose. And the answer to that lies in the underlying power of literary constraints in general, which, through various limits and unexpected combinations, tend to produce language that is alive, surprising, and at times astonishingly true.
We can examine a wonderful illustration of these concepts through recalling the story of The Exquisite Corpse, which, like the cut-up technique, relies upon randomness and association to create interesting and unusual prose, and to combat what the Surrealists saw as “the enemies” of their art: order, logic and an individualistic approach. Lisa Stein, in a Chicago Tribune story, details the history and methods of The Exquisite Corpse:
Legend has it that The Exquisite Corpse was born one night in 1925 in a house in Paris. A group of writers and artists were settling in for what they thought would be a pretty dull evening. Because they were Surrealists and given to playing games of chance, one of them suggested the pastime Les Petits Papiers, or Little Papers, in which players compose poems from randomly chosen words.
The first player wrote a noun on a piece of paper and folded it so the second player couldn't see what was written. That person wrote an adjective, folded the paper again and passed it on, and so on. When they were done with the sentence they unfolded the result, which, in English, was: "The exquisite corpse will drink the new wine."
Delighted with the outcome, the players spread the word about the game. Soon, larger numbers of Surrealists were concocting such other outlandishly creative sentences as "The wounded women disturb the guillotine with blond hair" and "Winged steam seduces the locked up bird." They later substituted drawings for words, usually dividing the paper into three or four parts representing the head, chest, torso and legs of a human body. The game, which came to be known as The Exquisite Corpse and is represented in a new show at a Chicago gallery, became a staple in the Surrealists' stash of diversions.
The Surrealists of the '20s and '30s -- descendants of the nihilistic Dada movement but with a more positive attitude -- took such games fairly seriously: They played in earnest, with exact rules. But they also conducted the games in the spirit of fun, all the better to crack the controls of rationality and intellect and free the dizzying energy of the unconscious. They relied on chance and collaboration to deliver what Surrealist leader and poet Andre Breton called "the marvelous," which they believed was concealed by mundane existence.
So, what are some tried and true options for using the cut-up technique? How can you elasticize it for different outcomes, such as when you are prioritizing self-discovery and problem solving versus seeking to conjure striking imagery for a story, essay, or poem? Today’s prompt will walk you carefully through some through four methods, including one guaranteed by one user to “generate new ideas.”
Once you start exploring its applications, you’ll find you can use the cut-up technique in any number of ways you dream up on your own in order to conjure inspiration whenever you need it, as Bowie and Burroughs and others have done. I hope to hear from you if you try it!