I like the original better…
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I was hoping someone would bring up his work with Bunuel.
Because Fucking Bunuel.
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Art. What is it?
It’s whatever I like looking at, and the better it is, the more I find myself looking at it.
Dali might have been an asshole, but that doesn’t change the fact that I like looking at his paintings. Maybe I don’t rate him in as high as some other painters, but I do find his work interesting. It’s also disturbing. So what. David Lynch and Throbbing Gristle are also disturbing.
I think Dali was honestly exploring some inner regions of himself, and I can appreciate that. It doesn’t have to be for everyone.
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I was gonna say, Dali was a huge attention whore and, I mean, it’s obvious that he exaggerated everything–that’s the central theme of his work. When Ben Carson tried to brag about what a badass he was when he was an out-of-control teenager, nobody believed him. But OK, maybe Dali did these things, however I doubt the severity of “bloody and torn away from him” and kicked a kid’s head “like a rubber ball” if the only source is Dali himself. He’s telling people what they want to hear.
I read some of that book a long time ago. I remember the passage about controlling one’s dreams where he advised “have your butler play your favorite record before you wake up” and realizing how cluelessly privileged that was–you DO have a butler, don’t you? And then a friend told me how despite how he worshipped Gala in his art, he apparently cheated on her constantly. So, I’ve been operating under the assumption that he was a cad at best for a while now. But these things Orwell in his righteous earnestness is condemning Dali for saying sound like stuff Marilyn Manson would say in his lyrics. Hell, Ozzy bit the head off bats. It was fake I think but he’d SAY it was real–that’s the whole point of being Ozzy.
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Hang on - you’re not knocking Rene Magritte there are you? For shame! (Nice Max Ernst though)
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Me too! Didn’t even realize that I pulled the other from the results page. Thanks for posting!
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In the brief art section of my 101 humanities class, the teacher played Don McLean’s “starry, starry nights” song while we were supposed to also be absorbing Van Gogh’s paintings. Not only am I not keen on the song, but I didn’t think much of having the song distract us from its purported inspiration.
So, when we got to the Picasso section, a friend and I recited the first couple verses of “Pablo Picasso” for the class.
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legendary
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d’oh…i wanted to do that…
Alright…
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I’ve always loved Dali’s art. Would I have liked to meet him in person? Probably not. While criticizing a person for their behaviour and even refusing to work with them (or buy their art) because of it is perfectly valid, it doesn’t take away from the beauty and value of the things they create. Unless of course they show their terribleness through their art in which case it might take away our enjoyment of it.
Did I stumble on something interesting here or am I overthinking it?
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A paintbrush?
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It begins with happy little mistakes.
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It’s whatever art collectors choose to pay for.
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For anyone interested in understanding the bizarre childhood and life of this severely troubled man, I strongly recommend The Shameful Life of Salvador Dalí by Ian Gibson…
Sadly, it’s unavailable in ebook format, but here for consideration is the first chapter…
http://www.nytimes.com/books/first/g/gibson-dali.html
I would advise reading Gibson’s biography for context before Secret Life (Dalí’s autobiography Orwell referenced in his essay). Being a volatile paranoid narcissist, Dalí was far from objective about his own life.
Disclaimer: I’m more interested in learning from the mistakes of flawed dead historical figures than I am concerned with judging them. I also find Dalí’s art intriguing, but when I read the two aforementioned books, I learned things about him that made it untenable to separate some of his art from his frictive life and mutually abusive family environment. Though I can’t enjoy those art works in the same way since, I prefer the more informed understanding of them to my original superficial appreciation. YMMV on both fronts.
For anyone interested in arguing with me for calling it art: art is subjective and always will be so that’s just, like, your opinion man, and ditto for mine which is equally subjective. I respect yours, but for myself I find arguing about what does or does not constitute art to be futile. If you disagree, fine, but I politely decline to have that argument.
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Isn’t it always though?
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maybe it’s cause orwell is also a damn moraliste asshole himself…well it’s all about surealism and its commy aesthetic…of violence include as ‘the nicest thing is to go down in the street with a gun and shot in hasard’…perhaps you touch there the gap between latin and anglosaxon world…the politic in art it’s if there is a link between your opinion and what you do it’s because you do bad one…it’s rocket science…ask werner von braun…maybe harwey weinstein did good movie after all…this world is perhaps a far fucking messy asshole than you can ever try to be
Does it matter if his autobiography is a pack of lies? Is there any different between acting like an arsehole and being an arsehole?
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you can tell such thing in private to your lawyer but not to your next conquest or to judge in court…this world is hypocrite…us only in our deep secret are just opened and frank
Reputable insurance company policy notwithstanding.
