In September I was in Tampa for a Bucs game and went across to St. Pete to visit the
Dali Museum. He has always been my favorite painter and I’ve been thankful that we can see such a great collection by one of the all-time greats right here on the Gulf Coast.
While it really shouldn’t, the difference in seeing paintings in person versus viewing online or in a book always surprises me. No matter how well it’s done, photography never captures the color, contrast, and detail of the actual piece, and that was certainly true again this visit, as I got to see a few of the permanent collection pieces for the first time.
Discussing the subject matter and various interpretations of Dali’s work could go on endlessly, but I thought I would just share a few thoughts related to his technical skill, which also really can’t be overstated.
Much is made over the realism of Dali’s paintings, which enhances the impact of his fantastical, often dream-induced scenes. This is maintained consistently regardless of composition size, from canvases thirteen feet tall to panels that are about the size of a postcard.
This is all about brush size and the ability to execute consistent technique, and it’s known that depending on the situation, Dali would use brushes that had only one or two hairs. Another key to achieving realism is preserving sharp contrast in small areas and not overworking to the point that definition is lost.
The Weaning of Furniture Nutrition (1934) has become one of my favorites over the years, and at a mere 7 by 9-1/2 inches, its tiny scale was stunning in person. Even smaller, at around 5 by 7 inches, was
The Ghost of Vermeer of Deft Which Can Be Used as a Table, painted the same year. I had been impressed by the extreme detail of the boats in
Furniture Nutrition before considering the shotglass on the subject’s leg in
The Ghost of Vermeer. Who can paint something this small?
I would say with Dali it’s another example of you paint exactly what you see, but most of what he was seeing was from his mind’s eye and he effectively painted photographs of that. No one had done this at such a level of realism before, and it’s no surprise that the work was so striking and elicited such strong reactions, even among the surrealists, in the 1930s.
There are many examples of this extreme precision in such small compositions, and I suppose my biggest takeaway from this visit is to embrace smaller dimensions. Also, I will eventually go back to oil. Also:
The cadmium yellow streaks within the cloudbreaks of
Archeological Reminiscence of Millet’s Angelus (1934). Simple thing but magic.
Daddy Longlegs of the Evening, Hope! (1940) - which I understand was the first of Dali’s paintings purchased by the Morses, who donated their collection to start the museum - was to me the most arresting painting on exhibition. To me it conveys “masterpiece” more than anything else I got to see that day.
One could look at
The Hallucinogenic Toreador (1970) for hours and still not take it all in, but my favorite detail is still the tiny sunbather in the pool in the lower third.
I appreciate better how the electric blue sky of
Apparatus and Hand (1927) sets off its subject.
The optical illusions of the double-image paintings such as
Bust of Voltaire (1941) are more impactful in person. For some reason these seem to come off far more obtrusively in photographs.
I probably stared at the detail of
La Main (Les Records de conscience) (1930) more than anything else. Another example of how sharp value contrast accentuates realism. Again with the small brushes. Also appreciate seeing Dali’s Freudian arena rendered in more nocturnal lighting.
I could go on, but that’s probably enough. Below are a few pics. Sorry they’re not better but a lot of these were under glass and I was taking them on my ancient BlackBerry!
