Zurich, 1916: Hugo Ball and Emmy Hennings founded "Cabaret Voltaire", which became a meeting place for young artists who, escaping the war, came to Switzerland ( Tristan Tzara, Jean(Hans) Arp, Richard Huelsenbeck, Hans Richter, Marcel and  Georges Janco, Sophie Taeuber, Max Oppenheimer, Walter Serner, among others). "Cabaret" was the nursery for an artistic movement that later came to be known as DADA. Dadaists themselves claimed that they are not an artistic movement, but a state of mind. Their reaction on the senseless war-destructions was a mockery of the bourgeois culture and negation of art itself. According to Hugo Ball, all their performances were " public executions of false morality." In his speech from "The First Celestial Adventure of Mr Antipyrine" (1916), Tristan Tzara writes: "Dada remains within the European frame of weaknesses, it’s shit all the same, but to decorate the zoo-garden of art from now on we want to shit in various colours, of all the flags on the consulates…" Such a cynical and obscene language, in the best tradition of Comte de Lautréamont and his  "Les Chants de Maldoror", possesses at the same time, a sharp satire and humour of François Rabelais and Alfred Jarry. The habit of provocation of public taste and media attention, inherited from Marinetti ("We had swallowed Futurism - bones, feathers and all" writes Hans Richter u in his book "DADA art and anti-art"),  Tristan Tzara had brought to perfection. Soon Dada will become the first global art movement (It’s better to say – brotherhood). Dada in Hanover, Munich, Cologne, Paris, Berlin, Barcelona, Den Haag, Antwerpen, Bruxeless, Prague, Rostov, Bucharest, Zagreb, Vienna, Warsaw, Ljubljana, Madrid,Tokyo, Santiago de Chile, Buenos Aires...Dada New York is an especial story; Marcel Duchamp, Francis Picabia and Man Ray had their own Dada projects independently from Zurich, since 1915. Of all opinions about DADA my favourite is: "Anti-Dadaism is a disease." by Tristan Tzara. At the end, just one more sentence from Hans Richter’s book: "…The Cabaret Voltaire played and raised hell at No.1, Spiegelgasse. Diagonally opposite, at No.12, Spiegelgasse, the same narrow thoroughfare in which the Cabaret Voltaire mounted its nightly orgies of singing, poetry and dancing, lived Lenin."