Alphonse Allais is a name that perhaps not everyone immediately recognizes, but his influence in art, literature, and humor is undeniable. This French journalist, writer, and humorist from the Belle Époque left an indelible mark thanks to his unmistakable style, full of irony and absurdity.

Born on October 20, 1854, in Honfleur, Normandy, Allais is famous not only for his sharp wit and wordplay but also for being a pioneer in the art of silence and extreme simplicity.

He was the youngest of five children of Charles Auguste Allais, a pharmacist, and Alphonsine Vivien, and from an early age, he showed an inclination towards science and comedy. His childhood in Honfleur was marked by silence, as he did not speak (or did not want to speak) until he was three years old, leading his family to think he was mute.

Alphonse Allais around 1900
Alphonse Allais around 1900. Credit: Public domain / Wikimedia Commons

Despite his aptitude for science, Allais soon veered toward humor and writing. He first tried to follow in his father’s footsteps in pharmacy, but his antics creating fake medicines and a series of failed experiments led him to seek a new path in Paris.

There, he became involved in the bohemian scene and began writing for various publications, such as the weekly Le Chat Noir, which became the epicenter of his creativity. From his earliest contributions, he stood out for his ability to find humor in the mundane and absurd, with a humor that also reflected sharp social criticism.

One of the highlights of Alphonse Allais’s career is his contribution to the art world. Long before conceptual art became a recognized trend, Allais was already playing with innovative and challenging ideas.

In 1882, his friend Paul Bilhaud presented a completely black painting titled Combat de nègres dans un tunnel pendant la nuit (Negroes Fighting in a Tunnel at Night) at the Salon of the Arts Incohérents. Inspired by this act, Allais decided to take the concept even further and, the following year, presented his work Première communion de jeunes filles chlorotiques par un temps de neige (First Communion of Anemic Young Girls in the Snow), which consisted of a completely white painting.

“Harvest of tomatoes by apopletic cardinals on the shores of the Red Sea,” painted by Alphonse Allais in 1897. Credit: Public domain / Wikimedia Commons

Created 30 years before Malevich’s famous White on White, it was a mockery of the traditional art world, suggesting that art could be as simple and absurd as one desired. Allais did not stop there; he continued to create monochromatic pieces with ironic and humorous titles, such as “Récolte de tomates par des cardinaux apoplectiques au bord de la mer Rouge (Harvest of Tomatoes by Apoplectic Cardinals on the Shores of the Red Sea)”, an entirely red painting.

Although at the time they were seen as jokes, these works anticipated later artistic movements like Suprematism and Minimalism, making Allais an inadvertent pioneer of conceptual art.

Not satisfied with leaving his mark only in painting, Alphonse Allais also ventured into the world of music and did so in the most provocative way possible. In 1897, he composed Marche funèbre composée pour les funérailles d’un grand homme sourd (Funeral March for the Obsequies of a Deaf Man), a completely blank score, a statement about the nature of grief and silence. Allais argued that great sorrows are silent, and therefore the score should remain empty.

This radical approach to music was a precursor to John Cage’s famous 4’33”, a piece of silence that would come much later, in 1952. Although Cage is widely recognized for his work in musical silence, it was Allais who first challenged the conventions of music with his inaudible work.

“Compound funeral march for the funeral of a great deaf man,” composed by Alphonse Allais in 1897. Credit: Public domain / Wikimedia Commons

But the legacy of Alphonse Allais is not limited only to his experiments with art and music; his true genius lies in his ability to weave stories and tales that defied logic and social norms of his time. He was an expert in the use of holorhyme verses, which are completely homophonic verses, meaning that when read, they sound the same even though the words and meanings are different. For example, he wrote:

Par les bois du djinn où s’entasse de l’effroi, / Parle et bois du gin, ou cent tasses de lait froid

The literal translation would be Through the woods of the jinn where terror piles up, / Speak and drink gin, or a hundred cups of cold milk, but when read aloud, it seems that both verses sound the same.

His talent for verbal humor and absurd narratives also made him a master of the short story in the French language, where he explored the contradictions of society and exposed them ingeniously by combining elements of science and technology with a satirical tone that parodied the discoveries of the time.

“The astonishment of young recruits to see your blue sky for the first time, oh Mediterranean,” painted by Alphonse Allais in 1897. Credit: Public domain / Wikimedia Commons

One of his most memorable stories is Captain Cap, where he describes the Meat-Land Exploitation Society, a fictional natural meat mine in Canada. According to Allais, a geological accident had created a cave full of perfectly cooked animal meat, protected by its own fat. With a serious tone, he proposes the commercial exploitation of this discovery, reflecting the speculation and entrepreneurial fever of his time.

Another example of his humor in science fiction is his proposal to build a floating bridge over the English Channel using empty sardine cans as floats. Allais claimed that the residual oil from the cans would flatten storms, ensuring the bridge’s safety.

Alphonse Allais died on October 28, 1905, in Paris. His doctor had ordered him to stay in bed for six months due to phlebitis, but he ignored the recommendation and continued going to the café every day. On October 27, on his way home, he told a friend: “Tomorrow I’m going to be dead! You laugh, but I’m not. Tomorrow, I’m going to be dead!” And indeed, the next day he died of a pulmonary embolism.

He was buried in the Saint-Ouen cemetery, where in 1944, during World War II, a bomb completely destroyed his grave. His remains were symbolically moved to Montmartre in 2005, ensuring that his memory remains alive in a city he loved so much and that inspired him throughout his career.

The Alphonse Allais Museum in Honfleur
The Alphonse Allais Museum in Honfleur. Credit: Jean Yves Loriot / Wikimedia Commons

In the end, Alphonse Allais leaves us with the lesson that art, in all its forms, does not need to be grand or complex to have a significant impact. Sometimes, a blank canvas or a silent page of music can say more than a thousand words.

He wrote more than 1700 short stories, two plays, a novel, and numerous poems and aphorisms that, unfortunately, have not been translated into English except for a few rare instances.

His spirit remains in the Alphonse Allais Museum in Honfleur, considered the smallest museum in France with just 8 square meters. It houses a collection of oddities including Voltaire’s skull at seventeen years old, an authentic piece of the false cross, a Chinese teacup for left-handers, blue, white, and red starch to keep the French flag waving when there is no wind, and black confetti for widows, among other things.

The museum was founded on the second floor of his parents’ old pharmacy in 1999 but moved to a new location on rue des Petites Boucheries in 2019.


This article was first published on our Spanish Edition on August 6, 2024: Alphonse Allais, el escritor que pintaba cuadros blancos y componía partituras silenciosas mucho antes del arte conceptual


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