La Cucina Futurista

Discard the past. Consume the present. Thirst for the future.

These beliefs characterize Italian Futurism (Futurismo) in the early 1900s. The founder of the Futurist movement, Filippo Tommaso Marinetti, birthed the idea at the turn of the century when he drove his car off the road to avoid a pair of cyclists. When he emerged from the ditch, he was a changed man with a vision for the future. It was a future of speed, technology, violence, and youth. His vision gathered a following in Italy and honored the invention of machines. It challenged culture’s sedentary nature by destroying the old and accelerating the new. Seeking to shed the weight of the past, it had influence on multiple facets of the culture—industrial design, literature, fashion, and even gastronomy.

Futurist Food

La Cucina Futurista was a dining movement crafted in Marinetti’s Manifesto of Futurist Cooking (1930). Like many Futurismo manifestos, La Cucina Futurista was a radical idea that greatly disrupted the culture. This manifesto banned pasta from the cuisine. As one could guess, this idea was unpopular in Italian culture. But it was the mission of Futurismo. La Cucina Futurista declared war against starchy foods that embodied the people’s weaknesses, complacency, and nostalgia. Seeking to eradicate this neutrality and cultural laziness, the gastronomical movement went where no chef had gone before.

No Pasta!

It was revolutionary. The movement encouraged the mixture of foods previously deemed incompatible: mutton with shrimp, banana with cheese, and herring with strawberry jam. Political discussions were forbidden during dining, and the space was replaced with art. While eating, people indulged in sensory experiences. Perfumes were offered for one course to excite the nostrils. Certain foods were placed on the table and left untouched for the sake of smell and visual aesthetic. Some courses were be rushed, so food would be quickly consumed. Others were be drawn out so people could savor the intricacies of taste. Music was played to delight the ears while chemists concocted new flavors. It was a full sensory experience that promoted the joy of new things. Where the old food culture was a means to connecting with history, La Cucina Futurista was a means to connecting with the future.

Marinetti claimed that we must “eat with art to act with art.” It was a beautiful idea: Our diet influenced our thoughts and expression. By bringing art to the plate, we could paint our palette in manners that could spark breakthroughs in taste and even health. But like much of Futurismo, it was an eccentric idea that never seeped into mainstream culture.

The movement toted some great ideas and some awful ideas. Airplanes, automobiles, and robots were deemed great ideas by popular culture. As for futurist meals…here’s to hoping they find plates beyond the history books.

Paper Books & Analog Clocks

Sci-fi-induced-idiocy has severely altered our perceptions of the future.

Chrome-plated floors, ceilings, and walls. Transparent touch screens with rapidly flashing data. Android housemaids. Flying cars. Strange blue foods consumed through a straw. While our view of the distant future may not be the cover of a discounted 1980s paperback sci-fi, much of our understanding of the future focuses on the technological change without a regard for aesthetics. As we progress into the future, new technology rises to replace the old–but we should not forget about the form of beauty it can take.

I do not believe anyone would argue paper books to be more practical than digital e-books. Digital books are more environmentally friendly (no need to chop down trees for paper) and more economically viable, for both the writer, publisher, and reader. There is little to no overhead to generate these books as no physical materials are required. This medium for a work enables the buyer to save money and the writer and publisher to share a great percentage of the profit, for no money flows into the creation of materials. The practicality is furthered by the ease of reading–as one could theoretically carry an entire library in one’s back pocket. Despite all of this, however, paper books still persist and will likely continue their existence in the coming years. There is something illogically satisfying about holding a paper book, bound and printed. Perhaps the smell of the paper? The bend of the pages? The light crackle of binding glue when pulling open the front cover? The ability to rip out pages, dog-ear the corners, and scribble broken thoughts in the narrow margins is what gives us the satisfaction. To mar a physical book and make it our own, to form a relationship with the book and have it be personalized for own agenda. It is the aesthetics that keep paper books alive.

Digital clocks are considerably more efficient than analog clocks. It is much easier to read a series of four numbers and know the exact time than deduce the approximation from twirling analog hands. Our cell phones bear the precise time from satellites. They adjust with time zones, appropriately switching with daylight-savings and leap-years. They are incredibly more practical in our daily lives, but that doesn’t mean we lose the watch around our wrists. Large analog clocks look beautiful when hanging from a wall. They are a work of art, equivalent to a painting, with a slight practical purpose. The toll of a bell-tower is no longer necessary to proclaim the time when we see it in the corner of our laptop screens. The beauty of that chime and consistent rotation of the time-bearing hands gives clocks an aesthetic value that cannot be replaced, despite technological changes in efficiency.

The future will be overridden with new technology, like driver-less cars and self-regulating homes to conserve energy, but the beauty of certain technologies will be conserved for the sake of aesthetics. Paper books and analog clocks, both beaten in efficiency by new inventions, will remain a part of our lives. Aesthetic value outweighs efficiency.