“It all started a 17th of January, one million years ago.
A man took a dry sponge and dropped it into a bucket full of water.
Who that man was is not important.
He is dead, but art is alive.
I mean, let’s keep names out of this.
As I was saying, at about 10 o’clock, a 17th of January,
one million years ago,
a man sat alone by the side of a running stream.
He thought to himself:
Where do streams run to, and why?
Meaning why do they run,
or why do they run where they run.
That sort of thing.
Personally, once I observed a baker at work.
Then a blacksmith and a shoemaker.
And I noticed that the use of water was essential to their work.
But perhaps what I have noticed is not important.
Anyway the 17th goes into the 18th
the the 19th then the 20th
the 21st the 22nd the 23rd the 24th the 25th the 26th the 27th
the 28th the 29th the 30th the
thus time goes.”
Robert Filliou (1926-1987), Whispered art history (1963).
The Budapest Poipoidrom project, a tribute to Robert Filliou, to commemmorate the 1000036 birthday of art on January 17, 1999, updated on January 17, 2000.