Imagine walking into a gallery, not to see paintings hung meticulously on white walls, but to witness someone meticulously polishing a pair of shoes, or perhaps dropping beans one by one into a hat. You might even be handed a small box containing seemingly random objects – a feather, a rubber band, a cryptic instruction. This wasn’t your typical art experience. This was the world of Fluxus, an international, interdisciplinary community of artists, composers, designers, and poets during the 1960s and 1970s who engaged in experimental art performances emphasizing the artistic process over the finished product.
Fluxus wasn’t so much a tightly defined movement with a manifesto as it was a shared attitude, a spirit of rebellion against the perceived elitism and commercialism of the established art world. Coined by Lithuanian-American artist George Maciunas in 1961, the name ‘Fluxus’ (from the Latin word meaning ‘to flow’) perfectly captured the fluid, ever-changing nature of their activities. They sought to dissolve the boundaries between art and life, between creator and audience, often incorporating everyday objects and simple actions into their work.
The Spirit of Anti-Art
At its core, Fluxus carried a strong current of anti-art. This wasn’t about destroying art itself, but rather challenging the traditional definitions and institutions surrounding it. Why should art be confined to museums and galleries? Why should it be a precious commodity only accessible to the wealthy? Fluxus artists believed art could be anything and could happen anywhere. It could be a sound, a gesture, a joke, a simple event. They drew inspiration from earlier avant-garde movements like Dada, particularly its embrace of absurdity, chance, and the readymade, but Fluxus had its own distinct flavour – often more playful and less overtly aggressive than Dadaism.
They championed the idea of the ‘intermedia’, a term coined by artist Dick Higgins, suggesting that the most interesting creative work was happening in the spaces *between* traditional disciplines – between painting and poetry, music and performance, sculpture and theatre. Fluxus events often blended these forms seamlessly. A musical score might consist of instructions for actions rather than notes, a poem might be performed as a physical act, and everyday objects became instruments or props.
Key Figures and Ideas
While George Maciunas acted as a central organizer and promoter, Fluxus was a network rather than a hierarchy. Key figures included Yoko Ono, Nam June Paik, Joseph Beuys, Alison Knowles, Dick Higgins, George Brecht, Ben Vautier, and many others across Europe, the United States, and Japan. Each brought their unique perspective, yet shared a common goal: to integrate art into the fabric of daily existence.
Simplicity and Economy: Maciunas, in particular, advocated for art that was simple, mass-producible, and affordable. This led to the creation of ‘Fluxkits’ – small boxes or briefcases filled with objects, prints, and ‘event scores’ (simple instructions for actions). These kits were intended to be democratic, allowing anyone to own or even perform a piece of Fluxus art.
Humor and Playfulness: A sense of humour, often absurdist or whimsical, permeated much Fluxus work. Ben Vautier famously claimed “Art is everything” and “Everything is art,” signing everyday objects and even himself as works of art. This playful approach aimed to demystify art and make it more accessible.
The Event Score: George Brecht pioneered the ‘event score’, a simple, often poetic instruction that could be performed by anyone, anywhere. Examples include Brecht’s “Drip Music (Drip Event)”: “A source of dripping water and a container are put in place. The dripping is allowed to continue for a long time.” These scores emphasized the concept and the potential for action over a specific aesthetic outcome.
Fluxus aimed to merge art with life, often utilizing simple, everyday actions and objects. George Maciunas envisioned it as a revolutionary force against ‘high art’ elitism. The movement emphasized collectivity, intermedia, and the concept over the finished aesthetic product, distributing art through affordable multiples and performance scores.
Happenings and Performances
Fluxus is perhaps best known for its performances, often called ‘Happenings’ (though Fluxus artists often preferred terms like ‘events’ or ‘actions’ to distinguish their work from the more theatrical Happenings associated with artists like Allan Kaprow). These events were unpredictable, often brief, and focused on simple, sometimes mundane, actions performed with artistic intention. They could take place in concert halls, galleries, streets, or private homes.
Nam June Paik, often considered the pioneer of video art, created works that involved interacting with television sets in unconventional ways. Alison Knowles’s famous event score “Make a Salad” involved precisely that – preparing and serving a large salad, elevating a domestic act to the level of performance art. Joseph Beuys, though complex to categorize solely within Fluxus, shared its spirit of social engagement and blurring art/life boundaries, performing actions like “How to Explain Pictures to a Dead Hare.”
These performances directly challenged the passive role of the audience. Spectators often found themselves implicated in the action, sometimes invited to participate, other times simply confronted with an event that defied easy categorization. The emphasis was on the experience, the moment, the ‘flux’ itself, rather than a polished, repeatable spectacle.
Fluxus Objects and Legacy
Beyond performances, Fluxus generated a wealth of objects: the aforementioned Fluxkits, publications, mail art, posters, and modified everyday items. These objects often retained the movement’s characteristic wit and conceptual focus. They weren’t meant to be revered as precious artifacts but rather as conduits for ideas, prompts for thought, or souvenirs of an event or concept.
The influence of Fluxus extends far beyond its active years in the 60s and 70s. Its emphasis on concept over object, its embrace of intermedia, its challenge to art institutions, and its focus on the performative aspects of art laid the groundwork for much contemporary art, including conceptual art, performance art, video art, and socially engaged practices. The idea that art can be an instruction, a gesture, a shared experience, or an intervention in everyday life owes a significant debt to the playful, provocative spirit of Fluxus.
Fluxus demonstrated that art didn’t need to be serious, monumental, or expensive to be meaningful. It could be found in the flow of life itself, in the simple act of noticing, performing, or sharing. It was a radical, often humorous, and deeply influential experiment in redefining what art could be and where it could happen, forever blurring the lines between the artist, the artwork, and the audience.
Why Fluxus Still Matters
In a world still grappling with the definition and value of art, the questions raised by Fluxus remain incredibly relevant. The movement’s critique of commercialism, its emphasis on democratic access, and its exploration of the art/life boundary continue to inspire artists and thinkers. Fluxus reminds us that creativity isn’t confined to specific materials or locations; it’s a way of engaging with the world, finding the extraordinary in the ordinary, and perhaps most importantly, not taking oneself, or art, too seriously. Its legacy is not just in specific objects or documented performances, but in the enduring idea that art is a fluid, evolving process, intrinsically linked to the act of living.
