<blockquote>I have come to the personal conclusion that while all artists are not chess players, all chess players are artists.<sup>1</sup></blockquote>So reflected the pioneer of Conceptual Art, Marcel Duchamp, on his two passions art and chess. Reaching a level of proficiency in both disciplines well outside the reach of the average person, he would forsake one for the other. <br><br>Duchamp, who learnt chess in his early teens from his brothers, developed his chess skills alongside his artistic career, achieving international success<sup>2</sup>. His dual interests are reflected in his early work <em>Portrait of Chess Players</em> (1911), which features his brothers, rendered unrecognisable by the cubist style, engaged in a game of chess. It focusses deliberately on their cerebral activity, rather than capturing their likeness as in a traditional portrait.<br><br>By 1913, Duchamp was becoming critical of the idea of “retinal” art<sup>3</sup>; art that challenged the eye rather than the mind. <em>Bicycle Wheel</em> (1913) represented a revolutionary departure from conventional art, raising questions about the meaning of art. By simply affixing a bicycle wheel to a kitchen stool, he had laid claim to elevating prefabricated objects to the level of art.<br><br>Duchamp continued to create art, but by the early 1920s he was devoting long periods of time studying the Grand Masters, striving to master their art. He saw beauty in the logic of the chequered board, ultimately electing to “paint as little as possible and not repeat my paintings”<sup>4</sup>, seeking sanctuary instead in the limitless possibilities of a game of chess.<br>