Dali at the MoMA

While walking in, I couldn’t help but wonder how any museum could be so crowded on a Monday afternoon. It boggles the mind how so many people have so much leisure time to browse pictures. Except this was a special case; if they didn’t have time, they made time, for Dali.  Held on the top floor of the Museum of Modern Art, the exhibition features over 130 of his paintings, as well as many of his films. Having reached the sixth floor, the visitors sit down on comfortable cushion chairs in the middle of a brightly lit room where sunlight shines right through. This room is the preview, without a short biography of Salvador Dali pasted on the wall, the calm ambiance takes the guests off their guard. Before them lies a dimly lit exhibit accompanied by suspenseful, but low music playing in the background (from the various Dali films being shown simultaneously). Lost to the sounds and the darkness, one slowly walks around trying to absorb too much in too little time, and embraces the confusion.

The ambience of the room is charming; everyone has brought a friend along to discuss what they think of the paintings.  They exchange ideas quietly, barely loud enough for the other person to hear, in fear of eavesdropping critics. The scattered conversations take place between few, but among many. A small crowd gathers around a painting and blocks it from view for those who are curious from afar. It is the Persistence of Memory. The painting is a lot smaller, in terms of dimensions, than one would expect, considering that is probably the second famous painting in the world (behind the Mona Lisa). Up close, one is able to observe the minute details of the work, as their pupils move along the lines of the landscape. The bottom half of the painting is dark, like a shadow, which contrasts with the brightness in the distance. His signature melting clocks droop down; like the painting, time didn’t matter to these visitors who had surely skipped out on something to some see the exhibit. The Persistence of Memory exemplifies a renowned feature in all his works, combining his imagination with the real world (the cliffs are inspired by those in his homeland, Catalonia).

As one works his way through the gallery to find something interesting, he can easily get lost, as well as overwhelmed. He can get lost in the masses of people surrounding him, or in the pictures that seemingly close in around him every minute and takes him to a different place. This was how The Invisible Man found me. This piece is so rich in detail and variety that one can easily forget exactly what it is that he is looking for, but also what it is he’s even looking at. On a plane indefinitely stretched, with shadows that reveal no obvious source of light, logic has no place in this realm. Once the focus turns away from the minute details and toward the picture as a whole, a face and figure emerge. It is a delicate face whose body is left to the interpretation of the beholder. The man’s arms run with the river, and finally fall with the water to form hands. His hands positioned like a piano player, the figure tends to his audience, the bronze statues to his left, the horse off in the distance, and the shadows that surround him. As I stood next to the painting to take a picture, security stopped me and I put the camera away. Standing there, lost in the picture, I knew I had to move on; I was not invisible.

The first painting that actually disturbed me was Autumnal Cannibalism, a very surreal piece with distinctly human features on the figures such as arms and ears. One figure is using his spoon and knife, the other is using his fork, as they both feast on one another. Although they are so physically close, they are worlds apart. The parasitic relationship that represents what mankind has been doing to itself since the dawn of civilization. Off in the distance is a town with red dirt, the blood that has been splattered by the selfish tendencies of man. This is another example of Dali’s connection between his imagination and the real world. Autumnal Cannibalism was painted during the Spanish Civil War, and encompasses many emotions about what Dali feels about it.

It was an incredibly rewarding trip; I’ve always known about Dali’s work, but to see his paintings and his original sketches is a completely new experience. One of his paintings was much like something I had criticized earlier, a dot in the center of a landscape with nothing else; but I was able to appreciate it. Although I wish I hadn’t gone on the last day of the exhibit, it was simply great to catch it.

*I can’t add pictures correctly for some reason, I’ll edit this later.
http://dali.urvas.lt/forviewing/pic09.jpg Autumnal Cannibalism
http://staff.bcc.edu/faculty_websites/jyantz/DaliPersistenceMoMA.jpg Persisence of Memory
http://www.worldart.com.au/images/salvador-dali-invisible-man1.jpg Invisible Man